Keith's Ramblings

;

Why that look? I didn’t mean to spill wine, knock over your flowers, leave the toilet seat up, use rude words.  Only one thing for it – abscond!

.

,

Thanks to Sammi Cox for hosting the Weekend Writing Prompt

.

,

,

Arthur was chatting with his fellow farmers at The Baaamy Innn, ”I was standing next to a foreign chap at the bar the other day, his English wasn’t too good and Len poured him about three drinks before giving him the one he actually wanted, anyway, he looked at me and said something like ‘hollow, how you is?’, I said, ‘hello, very well thank you how are you?’ and he said, ‘no, I mean who is you?’, so I said, ‘Arthur, who are you?’,  and he said, ‘velly well thankoo’, then he put a £50 note on the bar and walked off with all three drinks!”    

“You see that bloke over there with the hollow expression on his face”, said Ted, “he looks as miserable as sin, I smiled as I walked past him and he just gave me a dirty look which is odd, because yesterday he was sitting in the same place chatting with people all aound him, life and soul of the party, I even heard him say that his librarian’s favourite drink is tequila mockingbird, beat that Colin!”; Babs laughed and said, “that’s Jim, Ted, the guy you saw yesterday was John, his twin brother!”

Bert took part in the pub’s carved pumpkin competition on Saturday, and his mates where curious to know why he hadn’t seemed particulaly excited about it, “because it was a hollow victory”, he chuckled, “which reminds me, it’s Guy Fawkes Night tomorrow and I expect my creation will end up on the bonfire with the all the losers; I can’t wait to see the fireworks, Len always puts on a good display – mind you, the way things are going with AI, he wont need to much longer, he’ll just make do with a hollow gram or whatever it’s called” – Suzie at the next table leapt to her feet, “remember, remember the fifth of November, gunpowder treason and plot…”

Vince from the vineyard walked in and joined them, “I just had a round of golf, it was going quite well until I wacked a ball into the hollow, I went down to hit it back on course and you won’t believe what happened, I got a hole in one…”, he was interrupted by a round of applause then he went on to say, “some idiot had left a broken bottle on the ground, I stepped on it and got a hole in one of my shoes just look at it”.

Colin’s moment had arrived, “firework sales have rocketed – the cop saw two shoplifters, one stole batteries and one stole fireworks, he charged one and let the other off – Happy Hollowing said the pumpkin – my dad’s mum said she felt empty inside, she’s a hollow gram – an empty jar of Cheeze Whiz is Cheese Was – don’t write on an empty stomach, use paper – he talks like an empty tip jar, non cents – I always keep an empty milk bottle in the fridge incase someone wants black coffee – empty batteries cost nothing, they are free of charge – the room full of married couples was empty, not a single person there  – her empty purse was always the same, never any change in it – not all fairy tales start with once upon a time, some say, ‘if I’m elected….’.”

Len’s dearly departed Maggie was a stickler for making sure the bed was always made perfectly, and for her sake he always ensured there was never a ripple in the duvet cover, and always plumped up the pillows; however, when he climbed in tonight he noticed the pillow alongside his had a hollow in it; “are you there, my love?” he muttered – ‘yes’ , she whispered, ‘it’s been a long time!’ – Len smiled a saucy smile!

.

Thanks to Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge for hosting Six Sentence Stories, where this week’s given word is Hollow

‘

.

.

Trevor was a cheeky little lad. Squirt, his schoolmates called him! True to his nickname, his lifelong job involved maintaining the fountain and hosing flower beds in the park.

The day he retired, he threw a coin in the fountain and made a wish. It never came true.

On his ninetieth birthday, he went back. The fountain stopped flowing years ago. Down among the dead leaves, he found his coin.

‘It’s soiled and worthless now’, he thought, ‘a bit like me’.

He threw it back and imagined he heard a splash.

‘It’s a sign’, he said, before remaking his wish.

.

Click Squirt to visit the squares!

.

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers

PHOTO PROMPT © Nancy Richy

.

for Wordless Wednesday etcetera!

,

I went through my old photos to find a few colourful ones – and found quite a lot!

Let’s start in Peru

…they really are breastfeeding!

.

Now, Morocco

Marillion in concert!

Here we are in Nepal

.

…at Buddha’s birthplace

.

Now for Norway

.

Meanwhile in Italy…

.

What’s that I hear? It’s André Rieu!

.

Over in Egypt…

.

Shhh, we’re inside St Peter’s Basilica at The Vatican

.

Beautiful Madiera!

.

A Picasso immersive experience

.

Now we’re in Dubai!

.

Back in the UK, here’s Salisbury Cathedral

.

The bus stop shelter across the road…

.

and a few odds and ends!

.

Hold tight!

,

.

Cheers!

.

/

,

.

.

Wrapped in my warmest coat, a woolly scarf around my neck, I wished my colleagues farewell and headed off into the wrath of a winter’s night.

The freezing wind assaulted me, and a shower of hail struck my cheeks like a thousand icy needles. A car’s headlights blinded me as a frustrated driver honked his horn. My heart missed a beat. Noise, hail, light, dazzling light. If I wasn’t awake, it would be a nightmare.

Two more corners and the bridge would be in sight. As I crossed the river, the street light beside my cottage would glow like a beacon, drawing me home.  A few steps more, then I’d be safe. Safe from the hostile world that surrounded me.

.

The door closed behind me, and for a moment or two I stood in the hallway, my eyes closed. It was warm. It smelt lovely. It was quiet. It was good.

As I sank into my chair, a log hissed and crackled in the hearth, and the flames that embraced it sent an orange glow around the room. My shadow flickered upon the wall like a faithful best friend. Drawing my legs up beneath me, I hugged my favourite cushion.

.

.

Two worlds. One beyond the curtains, chilling, harsh and forbidding. One within, welcoming, snug and cosseting.

The End

.

Thanks to Sadje for hosting What Do You See?

Image credit: Johannes Bek @ Pexals

.

.

.

Nobody knew Mollie and I were lovers, not her husband, not my wife. Who would have suspected it of two doddery old folk like us? We felt not a glimmer of remorse nor fragments of regret for what we got up to. However, we hoped not to suffer penance when we knocked on heaven’s door.

We are both dead and buried now, but we don’t mourn, we don’t pine for each other.  Because here in the shadowy graveyard we can do as we wish, unseen by the living, getting up to whatever ghostly goings-on we fancy!

Rest in peace? No way! Isn’t death wonderful!

.

.

Thanks to Brenda for hosting The Sunday Whirl, where this week’s given words are – dead pines penance mourns folk glimmer graveyard remorse ghostly fragments lover and shadowy

.

,

You never know what to expect when Connie turns up, one day she’ll be vivacious, the next, vile!

One day a year she’s both; she’ll gatecrash a Halloween party dressed as a smiling sorceress. She’ll frolic, dance and kiss people’s cheeks, then suddenly her inner witch erupts, and believe me, you would not wish to witness that!

.

.

Thanks to Sammi Cox for hosting the Weekend Writing Prompt.

‘

,

.

.

With Halloween just days away, Landlord Len had decorated the Baamy Inn with ghosts, ghoolies and cobwebs; he’s not keen on having kids in the pub, but once year he welcomes them; they surge in wearing their creepy costumes then go from table to table shouting and pulling funny faces then stop and begin to sing the song their teacher made up for them …Mary Mary, you’re quite scary, why does your red hair glow… then they are handed treats before exiting the bar and heading off to knock on doors in the village – Albert admits to being a little frightened of them so this year he’s decided to get his own back by dressing in a black robe and painting his face, “you hardly need to”, said Ted, “since you stopped cutting your hair and shaving, you look scary enough already!”.

Over at the knitting circle, Lucy was telling them about when she visited her mother in the retirement home, “Mum’s friend Sally said she’d always wanted to run naked through a crowded place, and she thought this might be her last opportunity, so surged with excitement she stripped off and tottered through the lounge and into the games room where two men were playing snooker; one said, ‘what was that?’ and the other said, ‘I don’t know, but it needs ironing’! “.

“I bumped into my ole mate, millionaire Marcus ‘tother day”, said Arthur, “he told me he’s getting married to a pretty twenty-three-year-old; he even asked me to be his best man, well, I said yes hoping it might encourage him to leave me something in his will; then I asked him how he managed to attract such a young lady, after all, he’s in his seventies, and he said, ‘simple, I told her I was ninety-eight!’ “.

“I saw Surge this morning”, said Babs, “the tree surgeon from down the lane, he told me he took on an apprentice last week and on his first day he handed him a chain saw and told him to practice by cutting down the dead tree behind the barn; half an hour later the boy came back and said he’d tried sawing it without success, well, Surge took the chain saw from him, pressed the start button and it went, vroom, vroom – the lad stuck his fingers in his ears and shouted, ‘wow, what’s that noise?’ “.

“I made up a joke about a skeleton for halloween”, said Colin, “but it wasn’t very humerus – there’s one thing I hate about halloween, which is… – never marry a tennis player, love means nothing to them – how to get a farm girl to marry you, first a tractor – the invitation said, ‘your presence itself is a present, we don’t want any presents at the wedding’, so I assumed that meant I wasn’t welcome – another invite said ‘black tie only, when I got there everyone else was in tuxedos – my mate said I was the worst best man ever, I was speechless – an attracive lady said ‘every time you smile I feel like inviting you to my place’, I asked if she was single and she said, ’no, I’m a dentist – since the price of insurance has surged it’s cheaper to get robbed – I know an insurance saleman called Justin Case – I foresee a surge in the sales of citrus fruit next yer, Kumquat May – my doctor said the eye surgery was a success, and I said, ‘so I see’ – the last thing you want to hear a surgeon say is ‘ooops’ – the expert in keyhole surgery studdied at Yale – a trainee tree surgeon couldn’t hack it to he was given the axe – a lumberjack got promoted, now he’s a branch manager…..”

Before turning out the lights, Len looked around the creepily festooned bar; his dearly departed Maggie would have loved it, “I miss you, my little pumpkin”, he muttered, ‘I’m still here, my love, you just can’t see me’, she whispered as the decorations quivered for a second or two.

.

Thanks to Denise for hosting Six Sentence Stories, where this week’s given word is Surge

.

.

My phone died. I only heard half of the message.

I’d been invited to one of those battle reenactments where grown men put on pretend suits of armour and play soldiers. I knew when and where, but little else.

I certainly wasn’t expecting to be handed a Medieval outfit and a sword when I arrived; I assumed I’d just be looking on!

I shook in my boots as the enemy came ashore. We charged down the beach, then seconds later an unfriendly foe poked me in the eye.

This eye patch is quite cool. I wonder if they do pirate reenactments.

.

Prod Froggie to visit the squares

.

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers

PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast

.

…for Wordless Wednesday and bloghops various

.

.

Let’s start in Norway

.

Now to Lima, Peru

.

Copenhagen, Denmark

.

The River Nile, Egypt

.

Kerala, South India

.

Nepal

.

The Zambezi, South Africa

The Netherlands

.

Back in the UK, I went camping!

.

This is Eastbourne Pier

.

Loch Lomond

.

Back home in Bexhill-on-Sea!

.

…from my window

.

…in the town, last Christmas

.

…on the beach

.

.

.

.

…above the park!

.

Last week I featured Pevensey Castle; I’ll finish with a photo I took there one evening.

.

.

,