Keith's Ramblings

for Six Sentence Stories where the given word is Distraction (I’ve been a bit naughty and changed it to Distracted!).

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I was wandering along thinking about this that and the other, when I was distracted by an angel. 

How dare you laugh, and no, I did not imagine her!

As I was saying before you rudely interrupted me, this angel was smiling at me and …. what do you mean ‘how do you know she was an angel?’ 

Because she had a sticker on her back saying ‘made in heaven’, duuuh!  Of course she was a bloody angel, she had wings, that’s how I know! 

Anyway, I waved to her and …. yes, I had been to the pub … oh I give up.

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Thanks to GirlieOnTheEdge for hosting.

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Click below to see what others have written

 

for Friday Fictioneers

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There’s something wrong with this wretched phone.

As you know, I’m an Adonis but the camera thinks I’m grotesque.

In my first selfie, I looked like the back of a bus. Actually, it was a picture of a bus because that about-turn button chose not to work.

As for texting, I received an unfathomable one from Rosey.

how u. seein j tomoz. 4t u mite cum

It has a mind of its own because when I carefully replied, this is what it sent –

Watch massage a boot? I dead nut undertake it 

Like I said, there’s something wrong with this horrible phone.

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Thanks to Rochelle for hosting and to Roger Bultot for the photo.

Click Froggie to join in the fun!

 

for Wordless Wednesday and others!

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Take a wander around the campsite with me.  By the way, the facilities comprise just a chemical toilet and a tap, but I didn’t bother to photograph them!

That’s Chichester Cathedral spire in the background.

Time for a burger with cheese and bacon!

There were about 15 other small tents there, but they can’t be seen because the meadow grass was so high! Mine was by far the largest.

Spot the butterfly! *

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Sunset (obviously!)

I love my firepit!

Right, I’m off to the pub down at the coast – it’s only a couple of miles walk across the fields!

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Cheers!

 

*There’s the butterfly!

 

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for Shweta’s Six Word Story Prompt where the given word is Paranoid

 

 

for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt where the given word is Vivid and the limit, 89 words.

 

Just back from my wild camping adventure and raring to get writing again!

 

 

 

 

 

‘Meet in the park’ said my friend Rosey.  She was nowhere to be seen so I messaged her.

‘At my spiritual home’ she replied, ‘the Roseybeds!’

The rosebeds were spectacular, I’ve never seen such a vivid array of blooms.  I spotted several people but not Rosey.  Suddenly I noticed what looked like some blossoms moving!

Then I twigged.  Rosey recently had her hair coloured.  Not a blue streak or a green splash, but every  colour imaginable!  In her orange dress, she looked just like a terracotta tub of flowers!

 

You can find lots more stories about My Friend Rosey here!

 

for Shweta’s Six Word Story Prompt where the given word is Drug – I’ve gone plural, hope that’s okay!

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for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt

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I glance at my watch. Tessa, late again. 

Ah, here she comes.

“Coffee Tessa?”

“Latte, please”, she says.

Tessa’s lately been considering accepting yet another job. She’s had so many. ‘Tessa’s tessellatical tapestry of occupations’ best describes her career! This one comes with an electric car.

“That’s nice,” I say, “what make?” 

“A Tesla of course!” she chuckles!

 

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for Six Sentence Stories where the given word is Centre.

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I’m not normally one for digging up pieces I’ve written in the past, but now and again something comes to mind that I think deserves a second outing. This a drastically reworked version of a piece I wrote when I was a pub chef a few years ago and it seems to fit the bill quite nicely! 

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I spend hour upon hour in the kitchen where dressed in my pristine whites I am top dog, master and mentor for this is my empire, my territory, my domain, the centre of my universe.

Suppliers come and go, butchers, greengrocers, fishmongers, poachers even, for this is where I conduct business, where I weal, deal sometimes pass cash under the counter!

I have helpers in my kitchen, some cook, some peel and chop, one washes pots, and it’s also my consulting room, my advice centre; a surgery where I witness teenage angst, advise on relationships, stick blue plasters on cuts and proffer a friendly ear when required.

The kitchen is my studio, my workshop and my laboratory, for this is where I embrace my passion for all things gastronomic, where I experiment and create surrounded by cookery books, hastily written recipes and copies of old menus.

It’s where I receive orders from my hungry customers, where waitresses bring me scraps of paper containing orders, some scribbled, some wordy and many illegible!

At the end of service, I stand back, look around and tell myself how lucky I am to work in this kitchen, then I close the door behind me, and with the sound of the day still ringing in my ears, I thank God it’s all over until tomorrow when I’ll have to bloody well do it all over again!

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Thanks to GirlieOnTheEdge for hosting.

 

 

for Friday Fictioneers

I sometimes get asked why I don’t write much poetry – well, you’re about to find out!

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Hop out of bed

Leap in the shower

Stick on a suit

Comb my hair.

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Coffee too hot

Scald my mouth

Burn my toast

Trip over the cat.

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Rush to the station

Squeeze on the train

One hour later

Off again.

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Fly to the office

Land at my desk

Work flat out

No time to rest.

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Lunchtime at last

Half the day gone

Then back to work

More to be done.

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Time to head home

Stand on the train

Pushed and jostled

Always the same.

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Open the door

Fling shoes off my feet

Pour a large drink

Collapse in a seat

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and …

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Thanks to Rochelle for hosting and to  J Hardy Carroll for the picture.

Click Froggie to join in the fun!