ADVENT CALENDAR - DAY SIXTEEN

'Write a story totally in negatives', we were told, so here is mine, written in a rush after a day with family. Can someone please tell me why I accepted this challenge with Christmas looming? :(

NEVER AGAIN

Never did I imagine our drive into the French countryside would end in disaster. We planned nothing more than to eat moules in a tree-shaded cafė, stock up with goodies and head home.

There was no daylight left as we zigzagged through burning tyres, dodging masked men brandishing weapons.

“They don’t stop cars - only lorries,” Dave said, just before a torch blinded him and the door was wrenched open.

Not a gendarme was in sight as our wine hit the road and two men squeezed into the boot.

“We are not afraid to use these guns,” they said, “Drive.”

If we don’t end up in prison I’m burning our passports.

***

BURNING THE PASSPORTS - and TRAVELLING - TWO stories in 100 words each.

BURNING THE PASSPORTS

It was supposed to be a day of relaxation – drive into the French countryside, eat moules in a tree-shaded cafė, stock up with goodies and head home.

It was dark when we zigzagged through burning tyres, dodging masked men brandishing weapons.

“They only stop lorries,” Dave said, just before a torch blinded him and the door was wrenched open. Not a gendarme in sight as our wine hit the road and two men squeezed into the boot.

“We have guns,” they said, “Drive.”

If we don’t end up in prison I’m burning our passports.

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And here's another story in a much lighter vein - two for the price of one this week!
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TRAVELLING

I was happy in that quiet close – trees for shade, some lovely flowers, and the cats kept the birds at a respectful distance. The furthest we travelled was to a local market – nothing too adventurous, until we went on a day trip to France.

Miles on the motorway, far too fast – anything over fifty upsets my digestion. Then, after hours in a smelly ship, we’re driving on the wrong side of the road!

The moment we got home I moved out. The people next door never go anywhere – I’ll be much safer living behind their wing mirror.

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One of the treats I looked forward to when we returned to England was a day trip to France such as we used to enjoy in the 1990s. Though the news reports are no doubt exaggerated, with the turmoil that fills our present world, the very idea now fills me with dread.

The second tale? Well, that cobweb appears with predictable regularity on my car, and on one occasion I actually spotted the spider nipping back behind the mirror. Which I can't take out, so he stays, living an exciting life in the fast lane and catching flying insects in his seine net.

These stories were prompted by Ted Strutz's photo posted on Rochelle's blog for Friday Fictioneers. To read other stories, follow the links from  https://rochellewisoff.com/

FRANCE AND FISH

   

   FRANCE Trying to find the names of small villages and hamlets on a map of France when I was writing Helter-Skelter was confusing, especially as the soldiers who wrote the DIARIES I referred to two days ago often spelled the French and Belgian names phonetically. Even Google couldn’t help every time, but I persevered. By using various different accounts I was able to plot Albie’s route as he and his fellow soldiers guarded the rear of the retreating British, often only a hedge or a field away from being captured or killed.   I apologise for these blue bits -shouldn't have tried to post when I feeling woozy with vertigo, and definitely shouldn't have tried to move a map. have you notiecd how Google seem to have made a botch job of combining two maps? Denmark didn't slide under the Netherlands last time I looked, and Coventry wasn't on the north coast of Kent! GET IT RIGHT GOOGLE!
It was in France that Albie received premonitions of danger, warnings that waved him and those who belivved in his gypsy luck and stuck by him.as they trecked mostly on foot up the Belgian French border to the small boats of Dunkirk

FISHING BOATS were among the small craft that rescued the stranded army, which is a very weak link to this photo that I couldn’t resist sharing. In Las Galletas stands a recycling area surrounded by a wall on which an artist has created these FISH from squashed bottles. Aren’t they FABULOUS?

RESEARCH

This is a downloaded image from my research into the first months of World War Two in France, showing that, dreadful as the whole war was, the British soldiers still found reasons to laugh.
I am on the last stretch of my major rewrite of Helter-Skelter, after which I can take a month off with a clear conscience to visit my family in UK and Canada. When I return to it at the end of October I shall print the whole thing off, read it, and edit anew.
These final chapters are the ones that entailed the most research, as they are set in France and Belgium in early 1940. There is a dearth of information about the Phoney War in the first months of 1940. In a way this is good because there are fewer details to get wrong, but it also means that I did a lot of guessing.
Now that I want to weave in another thread, I am having to refresh my memory about why I sent Albie to a particular place on that exact date (what a good thing I kept the relevant parts of my research!) and there was an unexpected bonus.
I revisited one of my former research sites and clicked on a hitherto un-noticed soldier's diary of the very place and time I wrote about. He mentioned a real incident I had already imagined two years ago, which proves I managed to get into the mind of my soldier. I can re-flesh the bones of my story knowing that the underlying structure is sound.
The moral of this is - never bin your notes!