Autumn – Stanza 14

Cries of horror surely wailed at William’s
messy burial beneath Abbaye aux Hommes,
his tomb, ‘twas found to be too small to hold
his corpse’s expanding girth; hence ensued a
gruesome scene…they forced him in, until he burst!

~kat

For Jane Dougherty’s August Stanza Challenge.


When I was in school I had little use for history with its dry facts and dates to be memorized, only to be forgotten once I’d barely passed the final exam. But as I have discovered a personal link with some of these characters I’ve had the opportunity to dig past the textbooks. Today’s story is about my 34th Great Grandfather William, the Conqueror, the Bastard King. He had a turbulent reign as king. Married Matilda of Flinders and  had at least 9 children, among them Henry, my 33rd great. But the story I found most interesting was his funeral. You don’t generally read this sort of thing in history books. Thanks to the internet and Wikipedia read on to learn the final chapter of William’s life:

“Disorder followed William’s death; everyone who had been at his deathbed left the body at Rouen and hurried off to attend to their own affairs. Eventually, the clergy of Rouen arranged to have the body sent to Caen, where William had desired to be buried in his foundation of the Abbaye-aux-Hommes. The funeral, attended by the bishops and abbots of Normandy as well as his son Henry, was disturbed by the assertion of a citizen of Caen who alleged that his family had been illegally despoiled of the land on which the church was built. After hurried consultations, the allegation was shown to be true, and the man was compensated. A further indignity occurred when the corpse was lowered into the tomb. The corpse was too large for the space, and when attendants forced the body into the tomb it burst, spreading a disgusting odour throughout the church.”


Twittering Tale #97 – 14 August 2018 – Things That Go Bump in the Night

About the challenge: Each Tuesday I will provide a photo prompt. Your mission, if you choose to accept the challenge, is to tell a story in 280 characters or less. When you write your tale, be sure to let me know in the comments with a link to your tale.

A final note: if you need help tracking the number of characters in your story, there is a nifty online tool that will count for you at charactercountonline.com.

I will do a roundup each Tuesday, along with providing a new prompt. And if for some reason I missed your entry in the Roundup, as I have occasionally done, please let me know. I want to be sure to include your tale.

Finally, have fun!

And REMEMBER…you have 280 characters (spaces and punctuation included), to tell your tale…and a week to do it. I can’t wait to see what you create this week.


Twittering Tales #96  – The Roundup

Starting us off…

The Tea Garden
We sipped tea here, from porcelain cups with pink roses, and ate cranberry scones, letting the crumbs drop for squirrels who darted in when we weren’t looking. I come everyday at 2:47 pm hoping to see her. Just yesterday she walked straight through me. It’s why I’ll never leave.
~kat
279 Characters

From Amritha at  Igniting Hope:
The Amethyst
She was sitting alone, sipping her espresso pensively. Her deep blue eyes personified the tranquil mood of the Café. As she left with a curt smile and a tip, a cute chirpy couple took their seats. Greeting them again with a cheerful smile, I cleaned the table. A new tale unfolds.
(280 characters)

From Deepa at Sync With Deep:
Oasis in a Desert
The thought of schooling a gang of preschoolers was overwhelming.
My first lesson was about Relationships.
‘This is you, your family tree,’ I explained the curious little eyes.
And now, ‘you must draw a family tree.’
A curious five-year-old drew a beautiful garden instead.
(230 charcters)

From Michael at Morpethroad:
The Secret Garden
She said to follow her.
It would be something I’d always remember.
She reached out to hold my hand as we pushed through the last bushes.
There was the garden, the seat she’d spoken of under the tree.
It was here she took me into the wonderful world of her love and affection.
(272 characters)

From Lorraine at Lorraine’s Frilly Freudian Slip:
Secret Garden, Secret Friend
Table set for two; she always sat alone.
Yet, she engaged in animated conversations; nodding, smiling, frowning, laughing.
Reaching across the table as if to hold a hand.
Who decides your childhood invisible friend dies went you hit the ripe old age of 10?
250 characters

From Radhika at Radhika’s Reflection:
The Perfect Setting!
The drifting wind carries a sweet floral fragrance, alluring me to step into the most beautiful garden. The bird chirps, echoes of the rustling leaves, the riot of blooms, a table set for two, is just perfect for my date.
Trring…….darn the alarm, jolted back to the mundane morn!
Letter count: 280

From Fandango at This, That, and the Other:
Painful Memories
“Are you sure, Ma’am?” the gardener asked.
“Yes, I’m sure,” she answered.
“You know, Ma’am,” he said, “once done it can’t be undone.”
“I’m aware of that,” she responded.
“May I ask why you want to remove all of those bushes?”
“It’s too painful of a reminder,” she said, tearing up.
(276 characters)

From Reena at ReInventions:
She
“She has not come here for the last two nights.”
“How can you say that?”
‘The lawn is covered with petals if she comes. The flowers can’t resist falling to meet her……”
“Jack” barked the police inspector, “I need a witness, not a lover or poet.”
“It was a New Moon yesterday….”
“Gawwdd”

From Peter at Peter’s Pondering:
The Secret Garden
They sat looking at each other across the dusty table, saying nothing. The dried remains of their meal had been pecked over by crows and nibbled by squirrels and field mice. It was no longer identifiable. Nor were the hazy outlines of the lovers, shimmering forlornly in the dusk!
(280 characters)

From The Dark Netizen:
Tea Party
I looked at my daughter playing tea party.
She looked so adorable. I put my arm around my husband’s. We had done well. Our little darling had arranged the table, poured the ‘tea’ and offered the cup to her imaginary friend.
Our smiles vanished when the ‘friend’ picked up the cup.
Character Count: 280

From Willow at WillowDot21:
The Secret Garden
It had all been so hard and scary. Yet today Jess felt calm everything in the garden was beautiful.She always thought of this corner as her secret place. They’d made such a fuss about her sitting out here, she’d won though. Alone now she was tired all pain gone she slipped away.
(280 Characters)

From Piyali at Piyali’s Blogs:
Diminishing Hopes
He gently squeezed her thin wrinkly hand from across the table.Her gaze wandered away from his face to some insignificant object in the distance.A lump formed in his throat as he saw her feverishly rummaging through her diminishing memory.Dementia made him a stranger to his wife.
280 Characters

From Hayley at The Story Files:
Tea
In the time it had taken to break off the engagement the teapot had go cold. I wasn’t bothered, never be a fan of tea. I picked up a wedge of Victoria sponge cake and ate. Strangely, my mind was clear, it had been the right decision for us both.

From Deb at Twenty Four:
When he had visualized it, it had been perfect. A little hidden garden where they could dream, but now he had built it, there seemed to be something missing.
He picking up his paint set, the flowers needed to be pink not blue, he decided.
Perfect, the giant smiled, pleased.
(273 characters)

From Kirst at Kirst Writes:
Second Chances
An old maid,
the local gossips whispered. Never got over her first love.
I saw her as I walked to school. She would sit on that white chair, drinking tea, alone at the end of her garden.
Until the day I saw her bring out a second chair, a sparkle in her eyes. And on her left hand.
(279 characters)

From Schwetha at Face the Music:
My puppy had just learnt to jump over our fence. Every afternoon since, he would be prancing around while I sat by the garden relaxing. One day he jumped over and did not come back for a while. All the jumping had finally paid off-he returned with a play mate from the other side.


Thank you to everyone who joined the challenge this week! We have quite an inspiring round up of amazing tweets. Bravo!

This week, another photo from my collection of random snapshots around town. I love the night. I think I was taking out the trash when I snapped this one. I always have my phone on me for such occasions. It was a full moon night. Most people had long settled in and there I was roaming the streets with a bag of rubbish. It’s amazing what you can discover, while carrying out the most mundane of tasks, if you’re paying attention. This week, tell me a bed time story. Or a scary campfire tale. What things go bump in the night in your corner of the world? Maybe…just maybe, it is the stuff of dreams…or even nightmares! Happy tweeting! See you at next week’s roundup. 😊


Twittering Tale #97 – 14 August 2018 – Things That Go Bump in the Night

Celia couldn’t sleep. As she stepped into the night, an eerie hush hummed in the coolness.

Suddenly, a cat growled nearby, startling her, it’s back arched as it recoiled, hissing.

Then, in horror she noticed her hands, covered in fur.

“Damn full moon!” she howled. “Sorry, kitty.”

~kat

280 Characters


Dirge – Manic Mondays

DirgeManicMondays

darkness
i understand
dreams
grow dark
i go into
the night
of my heart
the flame
rises,
I desire

~kat

For  Manic Monday’s Three-Way Prompt: Word: Dirge, Photo above, and the Song: Aniron by Enya. As I do every week, the poem inspired by these three are a Black Out poem taken from the translated lyrics of the song below:

O môr henion i dhû:
Ely siriar, êl síla
Ai! Aníron Undómiel

From darkness I understand the night:
dreams flow, a star shines
Ah! I desire Evenstar

Tiriel arad ‘ala môr
minnon i dhû-sad oltha
Ai! Aníron Edhelharn.

Having watched the day grow dark
I go into the night – a place to dream
Ah! I desire Elfstone.

Alae! Ir êl od elín!
I ‘lir uin el luitha guren.
Ai! Aníron Undómiel.

Behold! The star of stars!
The song of the star enchants my heart.
Ah! I desire Evenstar

I lacha en naur e-chun
Síla, éria, brónia.
Ai! Aníron Edhelharn.

The flame of the fire of the heart
shines, rises, endures.
Ah! I desire Elfstone

 

 


Autumn – Stanza 13

kin can be elusive, notorious in fact with
legacies to be recalled by generations hence
more curious than how they lived, accounts
of how they died, some of causes natural
while others met the sword midst battle cries

~kat

For Jane Dougherty’s Daily Stanza Challenge.

I have found that records of how my ancestors died can be an interesting window into the times that they lived. I discovered the obituary for my 3rd Great Grandfather, Henry Orwick. Henry was born on the 2nd of July 1833 in Virginia. He married my 3rd Great Grandmother, Malinda C. Martin, in Indiana on 10 May 1855 and from census records it appears that they made their home in Indiana, where they lived for the rest of their lives.  Henry served in the Union Army, when he was 30 years old, in the 144th Regiment, Indiana Infantry. The 1864 United States Census records that Henry was a Hog Farmer, having slaughtered in excess of 100 lbs of the beasts that year.  Henry and Malinda had 5 or six children. My great great grandmother, Amanda was born in 1874. But it was Henry’s death that caused quite a stir. Here is the excerpt of his obituary,  found by a distant cousin (I assume) at the Cordyn, Indiana Library. It may actually be the most interesting thing about this common man who I call great, great, great…

Sudden Death of Henry Orwick

Henry Orwick, of Leavenworth, died suddenly at that place last Monday. He had been deputed to serve attachment papers against a steamboat tying at that place, and while holding the line attached to the boat, he was seen to throw up his hands and fall backward.  It was, at first thought he had been shot, but it was afterward learned that he had died of heart failure.

 

 


Mauve Martens – Case Study

Mauve had schooled her share of psych interns. As the longest live-in resident of Elmwood Sanatorium, she was a favorite subject for rounds and more intensive interview sessions. It was a symbiotic relationship. For her ‘performance’ Mauve got an extra 3 hours of tv access and the program of her choice. For their part, the staff gained valuable insight into an intern’s potential. Mauve had a way of weeding out those who weren’t cut out for a specialty in psychology.

She plopped herself at the table, with a gleam in her eye, and studied her next…victim. He shuffled several cards without looking up.

“Hmmm, a hard nut to crack,” she thought, “but I like nuts. After all I am the queen of nuts!” Mauve chuckled. “Humph…those bloody ink blots again. There are exactly ten of them. I know them well.”

And know them she did. She could spin a delirious show for each; one that left most interns disturbed at best. Ultimately they would fail their evaluation, only to be rotated out of the psych ward to the general surgery wing or some other safe corner of the hospital. Yes, Mauve was an expert in ink blots. “This is going to be fun,” she sniggled under her breath.

“Hello Miss Martens. My name is Dr. Stevens. Shall we begin?”

“If we must,” Mauve sighed, leaning back in her chair.

“Alright then,” Dr Stevens announced, as he flipped the first card face up on the table in front of her. “Tell me how you feel about this image, Miss Martens. Tell me what you see.”

“First of all, call me Mauve. I detest being called Miss,” Mauve hissed as she leaned forward to eye the ink blot. “Which one will it be…the bat or the dancing bears?” she wondered.

As she studied the image Mauve grew agitated. Something was wrong! Terribly wrong! She had never seen this ink blot before. Mauve pushed away from the table abruptly.

“Is something wrong, Miss Mar…Mauve?” Dr. Stevens inquired.

“Who gave you permission to call me that? You don’t know me!” Mauve shrilled.

“I’m sorry, Miss. But back to the cards, please. Tell me. What do you…”

“You stop right there! Is this some kind of joke? What do YOU think this fucking card means? Hmmm?” Mauve pounded the table with her fist, lurching toward the doctor, eyes bulging, face flushed red. “Go on tell me if you’re so smart. There are rules Doctor, and you are breaking them! How dare you come in here with your fancy white coat and bother me with your stupid cards!”

Dr. Stevens tapped the card he’d laid on the table and cleared his throat. “The card, Mauve…Miss Martens…What. Do. You. See?”

It was too much! She had nothing. It was a trick. She was sure of it. She started to rock maniacally, humming to herself, eyes squeezed shut as she clutched the arms of the chair.

“Miss Martens?”

The room was spinning growing darker, darker. “Did someone say my name?” Mauve’s thoughts spun. “No one ever calls me Miss…”

“Mauve?”

Suddenly, she collected herself, sat upright in the chair, and tilted her head to the side as she leered at Stevens. “Well, well, aren’t you a looker. What do you say we forget this silly game and get down to what you really came here for. I know what men like you like…” she slurred in a guttural tone, licking her lips.

“Miss Martens…”

She cackled, “Ha! That little bitch? Why waste your time on her, Doc, especially when you have me…”

“And you are?”

“Trixie, Doc. The boys call me Trixie.”

~kat

A short story for Mind Love Misery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt based on the photo above.