Sunday Photo Fiction – The Language of the Birds

February 3, 2016 / Penny L Howe / 11 Comments

This week’s Sunday Photo Fiction challenge is a sweet photo of a mother and her ducklings (Thanks Al), my offering follows. For more information about either participating or reading other writers entries click here.

photo copyright Alastair Forbes, 2016

The Language of the Birds

As I walk along the water, mind in a meditative state, I feel most peaceful viewing the sweet scenic image of a mother duck keeping cautious eye on her brood of ducklings paddling nearby in the fresh water pond. Colorful array of small fish and pebbles just beneath the shallow rippling waters create a pleasant visual sensation of harmony and tranquility, life and renewal.

I admit to being moved by this comforting view of reality, even with the realization of knowing that we all live in a consciousness hologram, set in linear time for the experience and subsequent recording of related emotions. Such is the nature of the great human ‘bio-genetic Earth experiment’ of which I was, until recently an unknowing participant.

Of course now that I am aware, the worldwide pattern recognition reoccurring in all areas of life seem obvious to me. Layers of past, present and future (“the all-time” as I like to think of it) linking together as one. I hope my human experiences are therefore not compromised (as a result of this knowledge) in my memory banks.

However I find it most synchronous, even intriguing to be strolling past this pastoral scene of life and birds, whilst also finding myself in the middle of deciphering a mystical and mysterious book “The Language of the Birds”. An ancient manuscript purported to be about our true human beginnings, mailed to me by an anonymous source. Clearly the language the ducks are speaking here is not of what the book is referencing … but then again, perhaps …

***

Thanks for stopping by, hoping the remainder of your week is a positive and creative one.

With affection,

~ Penny

A Warmth Against Her Skin – Sunday Photo Fiction

January 26, 2016January 26, 2016 / Penny L Howe / 10 Comments

Hi Al and thank you for providing this wonderful weekly writers challenge (200 words or less) based on a photo. I love your city photo below, beautiful! For more information on how to enter Sunday Photo Fiction’s writers challenge (or to sample the other authors creative work) click here

My offering follows:

Photo Credit and copyright Alastair Forbes 2016

A Warmth Against Her Skin

Walking briskly along the street, she listened to early morning sounds of the waking city. Although warmly dressed, chilly air still managed to permeate the several layers of thick winter clothing. She hugged herself feeling an intense need for warmth against her skin.

Continuing her morning walk, she passed street vendors, inhaling the enticing aromas of breakfast fare being served to waiting customers. Recognizing her, a few vendors waved hello, welcoming smiles spread upon their friendly faces.

“Nancy,” one of the vendors called, volume of his voice raised so she’d be sure to hear him. “How about a hot cup of coffee and pastry to warm you up this morning? And say …” he added, noticing she was alone, “where’s your walking companion today?”

She shook her head, smiling a sad little smile back, hugging herself even more fiercely against the cold.

“I’m solo now,” She responded, an involuntary shiver to her movements, realization finally setting in that it wasn’t warmth against her skin that was missing, it was a warmth so desperately needed to stop the cold dark emptiness pouring out of her broken heart.

Thank you for stopping by, I hope your week is a great one filled to overflowing with warmth – in both your heart and your life!

♡

With much affection,

~ Penny

Sunday Photo Fiction – A Beaker of Magic Passion!

January 3, 2016 / Penny L Howe / 26 Comments

Too too long since I have written flash fiction for Al’s wonderful Sunday Photo Fiction, click here for more information on how to enter your own short short story based on the photo (around 200 words) or to read some of the other delightful entries. Thanks Al.

To me the object in the photo looked like a beaker, the lights at the bottom a little bit like magic, so I wrote accordingly:

A Beaker of Magic Passion

“As you can see,” she whispered seductively, “I hold in my hand a beaker of passionate magic. It is up to you to decide what’s to be done with it.”

He scoffed. “More likely a beaker filled with your overactive imagination.”

“Perhaps, as you say, it is a beaker of imagination. Yet I have found imagination to be closely related to the nature of passions in one’s life!” She responded with a sweet smile.

“You speak nonsense.” He said.

The smile remained on her face although there was a strained quality to it. “It is nonsense only in this reality that you currently endorse as your life. But there are many realities and in mine, the beaker I have is filled with passionate magic. What do you wish me to do with it?”

His caustic laughter most unpleasant and dismissive with intent. “Do with it as you wish, my love. As you wish. I care not for your silliness. I shall go about my day doing precisely as I desire – without need for any mythological magic.”

Removing the stopper from it’s container, her smile became sad as she spoke. “I will do as you have requested. I wish for my own passionate love of you to be transferred to someone who loves and respects me believing that all things are possible if you believe they are.”

A moment later she vanished. He never saw her again, but over the years in his loneliness he often thought he could hear her gentle happy laughter echoing in the reality of the empty chambers of his heart.

But of course he knew it was only his imagination!

Thanks for stopping by, hope you enjoyed. Have an excellent new week ahead.

With affection,

~ Penny

Sunday Photo Fiction – The Trucker

May 5, 2014 / Penny L Howe / 17 Comments

The truck stood waiting. His tricked out, shiny and sleek, big rig, 18 wheeler. The engine had been idling and now was warmed up and ready for him to go on his midnight run to the city and then out into the far lying reaches of numerous small towns, delivering goods that wouldn’t be delivered if it wasn’t for him and his mighty truck …

… In the harsh light of reality’s morning sun, he rolled out of bed. After several cups of coffee and a quick breakfast he was on his way. Not in the 18-wheeler, but in a much more modest truck, picking up trash people left by the curbside each day.

Throughout the early morning hours he filled the back of his truck with the multitude of various unwanted things, finding (as usual) he couldn’t wait to return home so he could rummage through the discarded items. His price for removing the trash.

Photograph by Alastair Forbes

Amazing that one person’s trash is another person’s treasure. Inconceivable how many quality items he found and resold, adding to his “dream truck” kitty.

One day … one day he vowed, he’d have enough money to buy the truck of his dreams. To be a real trucker, to pick up and deliver cargo or “goods”. Being on the road – for real. Living the dream.

Until then he’d depend on his trusty little truck to get the job done. He was a trucker after all, even if for now – it was only in spirit.

But one day …

This is my entry for Sunday Photo Fiction. For more info. click here. Lots of great short fiction stories to check out or enter yourself. Lots of fun for everyone at Alastair’s Sunday Photo Fiction.

Have a great week ahead, keep working towards your dreams. Dreams do come true.

~ Penny