BUT YOU SAID.... a story in 100 words

BUT YOU SAID...

“But you said you loved me!” Sonya stared unseeing at the crashing waves, willing herself not to cry.

“Everyone says that – I didn’t think you’d take me seriously.”

Sonya fumbled for the door handle and stepped out onto the sodden turf.

“Get back in the car - you’ll catch your death!” Matt grabbed her arm but she wrenched it free.

Her eyes blurred with tears and wind, she turned and ran. She didn’t even see the cliff edge, and Matt was powerless to stop her as she tumbled to the rocks below, taking her unborn child with her.

.......................................................................................

Only the rain blurring Rochelle's photo made it interesting, so I went with that - hope you like my story? If so, please do leave a comment. I see far more 'page views' than comments and I always wonder what people thought when they read and moved on silently.

We've had some rain this week in UK, as you may have heard. I drove through huge puddles on my way to buy a new bed this morning, but that is nothing compared with the devastation in other parts of the country. With the coronavirus invading our shores as well, it's been a dramatic fortnight. But on the other side of the world the Australians are greeting heavy rain with huge sighs of relief.

THIRTY-NINE STEPS - a 100 word story for Friday Fictioneers

THIRTY-NINE STEPS

The villagers called Seth simple, but his mother was a witch – if he wanted to build his staircase, no-one was brave enough to stop him.

When he carried log after log up the hill they mocked. “Those steps are far too big!” and “Who wants to go up there?”

Seth simply smiled. “You’ll thank me one day.”

Then the rain came – first a downpour then a deluge. The stream became a river, Old Jake’s cottage washed away, and the villagers retreated uphill.

Each over-large step held a family and, until the flood receded, there they stayed - scared and soggy but safe.

.........................................................................................

There are a few people in parts of England who would have welcomed some steps to higher ground a few days ago, but the sun has now returned. Thanks as always to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers on https://rochellewisoff.com/  and to Karen Rawson for the photo prompt.

Her photograph also reminds me of a trip many years ago to the Flinders Ranges in South Australia, where heavy rain turned a trickling stream into a raging torrent within half an hour, underlining the valuable lesson - don't mess with Nature.

I am feeling happy this week, as I and my novel A Volcanic Race have been given a lovely write-up on the Subscriber Spotlight pages of Writing Magazine's June issue. The article has already nudged one friend into buying a copy - click on the image at the top of this page if you would like to follow suit.

I HEAR THUNDER - a 100 word story

After a fortnight away in England visiting family we have decided to drop the price of our apartment. I have therefore spent the last few days re-advertising it. If you like the idea of owning an apartment in Tenerife, the details are on the APARTMENT page of this blog.

Now I can concentrate on writing again, here is my contribution to FRIDAY FICTIONEERS prompted by a photograph on Rochelle's blog   https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/



I  HEAR  THUNDER

After months of hiding in cellars, trembling at each explosion and venturing out only when driven by hunger, Shira crept away through the ruins.

Carrying her daughter among broken timbers and glass shards, she dodged from shadow to shadow until they were in the fields.

Even in the ditches they dropped flat every time a bomb fell, but when they reached the hills the sounds of war were mercifully distant.

Sheltered beneath a tree, they slept until woken by a crash directly overhead. The child screamed, but Shira said soothingly, “Hush - it is only thunder. See, here comes the rain.”

FLOODS & FISH - A-Z Challenge 2015

We've had a FEW spots of rain over the past week but not nearly enough to cause FLOODS like we have had in the past.

They seem to happen when there is a particularly FULL MOON which pulls the tides high, and when this is combined with strong winds the sea throws huge waves over the inadequate sea defences.

When I went to shop in Las Galletas one morning the sea was actually roaring as I parked my car, and the waves must have rached six or seven metres in height.

Another time we couldn’t reach Las Galletas at all – rain on Mount Teide raced downhill and competely washed away the road behind the garage ...

... then flooded the rough ground before pouring across the coast road and the beach and out to sea in a brown waterfall.

This young man lost his shoes and I watched as he hopped from one rough stepping-stone rock to another to get back home  ...

... but this woman was determined to do her shopping. A small crowd watched her, and once she'd got safely through everyone removed their own FLIP-FLOPS and FOLLOWED her example!

It doesn't pay to ignore the power of water, though, and a FLASH FLOOD in the adjoining town took these vehicles by surprise.

The mother and baby in the white car were lucky that a bystander braved the torrent to rescue them.

FISH live in water, so here's a little FISHY POEM I wrote when my son was a boy.

BIGGS

John won a goldfish one day at the fair –

brought him home and christened him Biggs.                

the goldfish was free,

 but John’s Mum had to buy

him a bowl, and some gravel and things.

Biggs lived in John’s bedroom, but he didn’t like

the noise, and the smell of old socks,

so they dug him a pond,

 and used the spare soil

for a rockery with some big rocks.

In his pond Biggs began to feel lonely,

so Mum had to buy him some friends,

and fish-food and pond-weed –

 this free fish had started

expenditure that never ends!

That's all for today FOLKS!

Please leave a comment and thanks for visiting.

THE WEATHER IN TENERIFE

 Una calima mas!

No sooner has one dust cloud lifted – or rather, dropped its load onto my car, my terrace and every surface in the apartment – than another drifts in on the prevailing summer wind from Africa.

These calimas often used to be followed by rain, which freshened the air and washed the trees – we have even hastened to park the car outside in it – but this no longer happens. 

We’ve had nothing more than a few pathetic showers in the last two years – we need RAIN!

And yet the wild plants manage to survive. I drive past this fig tree several times a week and I thought it was dead. Today my morning’s walk took me right past it – and it's struggling but alive! 

As is the yellow weed that is taller than me, waving bravely against a sere desert backdrop.

If you know where to look, life is bursting out all over.

THAT BLOG done - now back to my own,

In case anyone is interested in my account of the whole process of rewritng a novel, you can read my guest blog on
Read Short Stories and Write Short Stories at Shortbread | Home of the Short Story

Meanwhile back on my own poor neglected blog, the bananas are growing and its raining! This is a two fold blessing - it will fatten up the bananas, give every plant and tree in the area a good wash and a soaking, and put me in the right mood to pack for England.

So we are delighted to see it. The cat is not!
She  normally perches at the bottom end of the swimming pool retaining wall from where she can see the path along which we will return home from an hour of debauchery in the local bar, then she will lead us up the path, doing somersaults to trip us up.
When it rains she sulks in her nest on the outside sofa and looks at us as if its all our fault.

It was raining when I took this photo last October - the last time I saw my grandsons - so I am well prepared.
I shall be away for two weeks, leaving the OH to fend for himself - don't forget me while I'm gone!

RAIN!

This was the view that welcomed us when we opened our terrace door this morning - rain!
I had woken in the night to the sound of it thrashing down, and after nineteen months without rain - our last real rain was on St Patrick's Day 2011 - it was music to my ears.
It's come down again several times again today - long may it last.

BLUE SKIES, nothing but blue skies...

We have had no rain for over a year – one shower exactly seventy-four seconds long doesn’t count – and the Government have finally admitted there’s a sequia – a drought. They have asked people “not to waste water” though they haven’t actually banned its use – that might cause an uproar – and we can’t upset the tourists by asking them to use less. The street cleaners are still hosing debris off the pavements rather than sweeping first, and the public gardens are still watered daily, often with sufficient pressure to wash passing cars as well.

Savings are being made, of course. The plantation owners have been suffering from cuts in supply, frequent enough for some of them to be reduced to watering their fields by bucket – an arduous task in temperatures of over 40*C. Private complexes such as ours have tried to economise by reducing the number of trees in their gardens, so we have had the sad sound of chainsaws.

Despite all this, nature refuses to lie down - there must be some moisture in the air because my bedroom door is sticking.

 The barbed-wire plant has gone from grey to green, the weeds on the abandoned building site look healthy, and even the pepper-tree stumps are trying to grow again.

¡Viva la naturaleza!

Rain please!

One of the upsides to living here is the weather. Well, usually! For weeks now we've been expecting/hoping for rain. Yes, I know - if you live in UK you can't understand why we're complaining, can you?
But we've only had a few showers since this time last year, and precipitation is our only water supply. If we get rain near sea-level it falls as snow on Mt Teide which filters through to underground aquifiers.
So while the UK is apparently about to have a heat wave, can we please have your rain?