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Lols, oh dear. I’m happy. I am. Happy happy happy. Tinking the happiest of thoughts. And not failing whatsoever. *goes off to see what big, fat li-, I mean what I can do* 😬😬 haha
The glow of embers in the fireplace, warm and comforting
Shadows chased by the sudden flare of a match
A candle flickering in a steamed-up window
The bob of a rescuer’s headlamp on a snowy mountain
A lighthouse in a stormy sea, guiding, reassuring
Sunlight slicing through dark curtains
A beam of torchlight on an unlit path
In the darkness, imagine YOU are the light
Let yourself shineI lied.
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Summer of sixty-one – when Percy Faith’s ‘Theme for a Summer Place’ persistently played along the telegraph wires, exhaling hauntingly into the ether – was one of much excitement and promise for the girls of the small Hertfordshire village where I lived, thanks to a recent influx into the village of no fewer than eight new males, mostly of an age to be of interest.
Sean, Christy Mick and Joe, (Liam a bit young), Irish and each of them fascinatingly different in appearance and personality, moved into the estate opposite my parents’ bungalow. South through the village, cousins John and Steve (John’s mother owned and managed the Wool Shop) To the north, newly-occupying another  bungalow, another Steve and, a younger brother, Jack.
In the following months those who had the freedom, the confidence, the knowledge, made progress,  aided and  empowered by such songs as Helen Shapiro’s ‘Don’t treat me like a child’;  Billy Fury’s ‘Halfway to Paradise’ and Elvis’s ‘Surrender.’
Me, I got German measles. And my parents were very strict.
So it was April 1963, a youth club trip to The Fifty Nine Club in Hackney Wick, run by the “Ton up Vicar  before the Steve living to the north and I “got together” (i.e. snogged on the coach throughout the journey home.)
A date for the following night was made: the  cinema  in Bishop Stortford.
“Telling” my parents opened a floodgate of questions:
“How old?”
“Eighteen”
“How get there?”
“Bus” (Taken as read, catching the last one back meant leaving thirty minutes before the film ended)
“Has he a job?”
“Yes.” (And gives his mother £3 10s of his wages every  week.)
“What qualifications?”
“A levels.” Getting fed up. “He was accepted for Medical School, but changed his mind!” Then, sensing victory, “We’re only going to the cinema – it’s not as if I’m intending  marrying him!”
That April date was fifty-nine years ago. I knew before the end that night, waiting to catch the bus home, I’d found the man I could be me with. And three and a half years later, we did marry. And have lived happy ever after.
And  I thank my lucky stars that his parents, thinking of the cost of medical school, sold their house in Ponders End and moved out of London, so as to free up cash to fund it, unaware he’d change his mind.
[394 words]
Ath! Ath! I got sumthing!! Had real worries about it but a slight thing came to me this morning. So I’ll see where it takes me 😃✨
The March comp has two super entries and, maybe, another on the way? With a whisker under a week to go, and a word limit as low as 1 (2 would be better) and as high as 500 there’s tons of time to rattle of an entry. And all it needs is a happy ending. Yippee! Look there’s a one-word-entry with a happy ending. You can’t have that one though.
Teddy was lost.
Teddy’s owner, Joe, was inconsolable. His face red and blotchy, his screams ringing through the house. How could Joe and Teddy survive apart.
Teddy himself was having a nice time. He’d been left on the bus, propped up next to the window where he could see the world go by. Life with Joe was nice, but sometimes a bit boring. Teddy really had had enough of getting splattered with paint, or dropped in the mud, or stuffed in a bag. Today, he was having an adventure.
Something Teddy had discovered was that if he sat very still, adults didn’t notice him. So he watched the people come and go on the bus. The suited workers, the phone staring students, the old man with a bottle hidden under his coat. And as the people changed, so did the view through the window. The bus left the town and drove into the country. Teddy had never seen so many green fields or trees. He’d never seen a cow or a sheep, although Joe often painted them. Teddy couldn’t help but think Joe would have loved this view. He would have to tell him all about it when he got home.
But now Teddy was starting to get tired and wondered how he would get back to Joe.
The bus had reversed its journey and arrived back in the town depot. The passengers had gone and it was starting to get dark. Teddy shivered. Maybe this wasn’t such a good adventure after all. Maybe boring was better.
‘Hello, Teddy,’ said a lady with a mop, making him jump.
Teddy wondered how she knew his name. But he was very pleased she did.
‘Let’s take you to lost property.’
The lady picked him up and took him into the depot. There, another lady looked at Teddy, looked at a clipboard, smiled and picked up the phone. And it wasn’t long before Teddy heard a voice he knew, Joe’s, calling his name. Teddy got a warm glowing feeling in his tummy.
Very soon Teddy was in the car heading home, but he didn’t see the world going by outside. He was snugged up in Joe’s arms, fast asleep.
Happiness Is An Old Slut
Y’know, there were a time – before the Great Dark – when I would chase Happiness. Relentless in my pursuit, I would pin her with a heated stare onto the walls of my life, undress her slow and vulgar, dry fingerin’ the places where she kept her best secrets. But even when I caught her, had my way with her, I knew Happiness – the old slut – weren’t never mine to keep.
Then the Great Dark came, increasin’ the deadness I felt inside whenever she left, a hundredfold. So much death inside somethin’ so small and fragile as the human heart, well –it left me colder than grief and twice as wounded. It were three years into those dark days, that I found the love of my life, Meaning. She were a fine woman, pristine in a way that made an old dog like me wanna be somebody’s next of kin.
But her, her I could not touch even though I’d sought her far and wide. No matter how close we grew, I couldn’t so much as bring my hand to glance the soft underside of her cheek the way I longed to. Still, I found her when I proved my worth, when I bested myself, when I moved forward alone and contained. I found her in the absence of touch and other, and when I spoke the truth, ‘specially the ones that left me exposed to the world.
She was there when I took care of myself, when I watched the company I kept. And even though I could not hold her, show her how much a man like me could love the woman she was, Meaning set me free. And free I remained. Roamin’ dark lands, I was filled with sweet wonder and understandin’, my quest a quiet, triumphant mountain pass spiralin’ me home. It were to this quest – even more so than Meaning, who now always rode alongside me – that I belonged.
Who knows, perhaps it were better this way, the chance to meet my kindred folk long lost on life’s path, leavin’ me lonely and collectin’ strays for associates. Desire for companionship, and the beauty of that feeling, faded to naught but dirt in my mouth. Yet even if it’s too late for anything but peace, knowing it were a good life despite my worst choices – and perhaps even because of them – would make it all worthwhile in the end, when these dark days turn to light.
[408 words]
Oh my, how to decide between four super entries?
Seagreen: poetic, inspirational.
Sandra: a slice out of a life that seems to be true.
Kate: warm to the max.
Knicks: beautifully wrought and fiercely hopeful.
I read these last night and thought “Blah! I’ll look again tomorrow when it’ll be easier”. It isn’t. I really could pick any one of them, but I’ll pick Knicks.
Thank you Ath, for comp and comments, and very well done Knicks. Seagreen (who gave me lovely images), and Kate., whose teddy could well be a friend of mine,
Woopity woop! 🥳🥳 Thanks, Ath! This was a real challenge for me as evidenced by my unusually late submission. I thought I wasn’t going to make it, but I was working on it the whole time, trying to get the voice right, and make sure my own meaning was clear.
Love your work as always, ladies. Seagreen, your piece was absolutely beautiful; Sandra’s youthful and sweet; and Kate, your Teddy gave my heart a right, good squeeze.
Gonna see what I can come up with for April, and I’ll post sometime later today ✨
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