THE ROAR OF THE GREASEPAINT

THE ROAR OF THE GREASEPAINT

Lucy was just nineteen and ripe for plucking when the actor stayed at her aunt’s boarding house. After a week of stories about his glamorous world, she packed her bags and followed him.

But scrubbing greasepaint from his collars wasn’t glamorous, and the thrill of being backstage soon wore thin. She wasn’t even good enough at sewing to help the wardrobe mistress.

When she caught him kissing his leading lady, she got a bus home and married the boy she’d left behind.

He was a much better father to her child than the actor would ever have been.

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In the midst of preparing for publication Landslide, the third book in my Living Rock series, I've taken a break to write this week's 100 words.

My first husband had just dipped his toe into the world of amateur dramatics when we met, and twenty years later the 'roar of the greasepaint, the smell of the crowd' tempted him to turn professional. I still remember scrubbing the collar of his one white shirt and drying it on a radiator overnight for the next performance!

Thanks to Dale Rogerson for her evocative photo, and to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers on her blog, https://rochellewisoff.com/

SPARROW REMEMBERS

SPARROW REMEMBERS

Stolen from her bed in the cold white darkness of a Canadian winter, Sparrow’s last sight of home was the sun rising beyond the grain silo beside her house.

Instead of attending school, she chopped wood, broke ice for water in winter, suffered mosquito swarms in summer, and endured nights under a stinking blanket with her captor.

She was thirteen when another little girl appeared – then she remembered that image.

With the child on her back she trudged east, scavenging for food, hiding from strangers, focussed only on one thing – the vision of sunrise over her parents’ farm.
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Dawn Miller's photograph may well have been taken in Canada - it reminds me of the country around my son's home in Ontario, where he lives with his Canadian wife and two small daughters. So my mind instantly put together Canada, little girls, and the photo's focus to create my story.
You can read what other writers made of the image by following links from Rochelle's blog.  https://rochellewisoff.com/

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.

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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.

HOMECOMING - a story in 100 words

HOMECOMING

They landed at midnight to avoid the protestors, simply glad to have arrived. Guards took them to an anonymous building where they were stripped and examined for any signs of the plague, then after scalding disinfectant showers they were given flimsy paper gowns.

“Where are my own clothes?” Lee asked.

The answer was curt. “Burnt.”

Herded through the eerily empty terminal like lambs being driven to slaughter, Lee was grateful no-one was around to witness their humiliation.

Then they stepped off the escalator into a dull roar of sound, and behind a glass wall a hundred flashbulbs popped.

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The UK citizens who arrived from Wuhan this week were treated less harshly than this, merely being put into quarantine for a fortnight. They all signed their agreement to this step before they flew, and are being provided with every comfort, yet still some are complaining already! Two weeks is nothing compared with the nightmare that people are living in China right now.

Ted Strutz's photo is puzzling, and I wonder if my story is anywhere near the truth? To read what other writers made of it, follow the frog link from Rochelle's blog.  https://rochellewisoff.com/

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For anyone who missed my contribution to Friday Fictioneers last week, my excuse is that I was helping my 95 year old Mum to pack and move into a care home near me. She is making friends there already, and I have been in to see her several times. Joining in with the occupational therapist's chair exercise routines quite wore me out!!

NUTS! a story in one hundred words.

NUTS!

Moira crept round the shops, hiding her bruises behind her hair. Derek had ordered macadamia nut ice-cream – where on earth did he imagine she’d find that?

After an increasingly frantic search she tracked some down in the deli, and finished her shopping. At home she added a few more nuts and made a curry – he liked it hot enough to sear his taste-buds.

When Derek collapsed, gasping for his Epipen, Moira slipped along the back lane to throw the tub in a skip before calling an ambulance.

It arrived far too late, of course, but that was hardly her fault.

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It's taken me 24 hours to think of a story for this domestic image taken by Na'ama Yehuda, so I hope you think it's up to scratch! If you would like to read how other writers interpreted it, follow the Frog link from Rochelle's blog https://rochellewisoff.com/

GREENHOUSE - a story in 100 words

GREENHOUSE

Zena dressed the children carefully – trousers, long-sleeved shirts, wide-brimmed hats, sunglasses, Factor 100 on exposed skin.

“Are we going to the beach, Mummy?”

Sometimes Zena took them for a picnic under the ruins of the pier, but keeping them in the shade was exhausting. “No – today’s a surprise.”

When they reached the Dome Zena bundled them up in warm jackets - air-conditioning kept the temperature down to a cool 40 – but their awe at their first sight of a tree made the journey worthwhile.

With tears in her eyes she told them, “This is how it used to be.”

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This story may very well be prophetic, the way we're treating our world at the moment. I shudder for my grandchildren. There are countries still too poor to do their share of the repair, but the richer countries should be picking up the slack, and they're not. I was born in Australia, so the dreadful fires there are breaking my heart. 

Enough of politics! Thanks to J Hardy Carroll for the photograph, which reminded me of a tropical rainforest dome I visited in Australia 30 years ago, and the thoughts combined to inspire this story. Thanks also to Rochelle, our genial host on Friday Fictioneers on her blog  https://rochellewisoff.com/

BY THE PRICKING OF MY THUMBS - a story in 100 words

BY THE PRICKING OF MY THUMBS

It was so hot in the campervan that the children wanted to sleep in the tent. Delia was reluctant to let them but Barclay said, “The security guard patrols regularly – they’ll be fine.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling...” Delia demurred, but when he winked and added, “We’ll be alone for a night,” she blushed and yielded. The site was well-lit, the pool’s surface reflecting the orange lamps – what could go wrong?

Eventually the children’s giggling ceased, the van rocked to a standstill, and all was silent. Only then did a tentacle slither up from the deep end.

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This story, prompted by C.E Ayr's photograph, is my first for this year, and written in a hurry, as it is my granddaughter's 5th birthday today and I am taking the cake. I have been making Smartie cakes since my own children were small - sometimes chocolate ones, but she prefers plain. So be it!

And here is an update for those who read my story two weeks ago. My mother enjoyed her impromptu stay in a nursing home so much that she wanted to stay. Fortunately they had a vacancy arise over the Christmas period, so we will be moving Mum in soon.