John T

Just pulled the last bit of candy floss from my brain, looked at some famous last quotes “Julius ‘Groucho’ Marx and Noel Coward.” Played with some authors and their book titles, used some well know sayings and came up with this bit of fluff.

<u>The last question</u>

I was surprised when the invite appeared mysteriously on my lap.

F…[Read more]

UNTITLED (149 WORDS)

Contains an obscenity

Today is the last day I will beat myself up over this.

It’s the last day I’ll say sorry for hurting you, as if I haven’t said sorry a million times already.

It’s the last time I’ll try to make amends for something you will never forgive me for.

It’s the last time I’ll go to bed and wonder how di…[Read more]

Jill, it’s so good to hear from you again, in spite of what you’ve been, and are, going through.

I think any response that isn’t on a level with your own experience of positivity is likely to sound trivial, or at least less significant. But it is a fascinating topic. It’s often said that realists have a less positive expectation of outcome, but…[Read more]

Two fabulous stories and still half of the month to try your hand. What luck!

The First Steps and the Last

‘Come on, Mum, two more steps and you’re there. I’ve got you …’

Why was she raising her voice? I wasn’t deaf.

My mind wasn’t the disabled part of me. And what was the rush?

Hold your tongue, old lass. It’s all said through care, not to mention a familiar tone of worry that she might slip or let go.

It took me…[Read more]

You’re not actually the person I was referring to when I said I knew I was preaching to the converted. Quite often people reply to these Literary Byways blogs saying they’re going to read the book concerned on my recommendation, but this is the first time I’ve had feedback on that, and I’m delighted that you share my enthusiasm for Pavane.

As for…[Read more]

It was, and still is, a very good blog indeed. I remember it well, and on the strength of your recommendation I bought Pavane. It is a unique book, with an extraordinary atmosphere. Since reading it I’ve returned many times to check on parts and to reread. It really is remarkable that it isn’t better known. It’s somewhat depressing that a book so…[Read more]

Congratulations, Ath. Delightfully creative tale!
Thanks to Janette for the prompt and to Sandra, Libby and Terrie for a selection of wonderful stories x

Congratulations, Ath,  for your interpretation with a twist  and well done  Sandra, Sea and Libby as well.

I enjoyed everyone’s entries.

Its always interesting to  see others  take on  a challenge prompt.

When I say that I seriously didn’t think I’d win – I mean it. There was a fistful of really great entries. Thanks to Janette for the prompt and to my co-entrants for some great entertainment.

Ps, yes, thank you all for your brilliant entries, I meant to say- sorry if this didn’t come across in my summary.

Congratulations Athelstone, and thanks to Terrie, Sea and Libby for their responses to Janette’s  May challenge – all so entertaining – and for the summing up.

Five great stories this month, making my decision oh-so difficult and changeable.

Sandra – Lyrical Determination (thin on legend)
Smartly-penned descriptives throughout, giving vivid imagery of Fran lying prose on the attic bed, having decided to give her virginity to Ivo (having been inspired by the words of John Martyn).  Love that she bathes…[Read more]

May

The cactus on the table, out there on the decking, it’s gone mad. Look there are four new paddle things growing off it. Mr Hoskins from next door says they’re called “cladodes”. He should know, seeing as he’s a botanist or something at the college. It’s a modified stem, apparently, which serves the function of a leaf. He came over for a cup o…[Read more]

Renewal Dance

Below a patchy canopy of leaves, sunlight falls in dusted shafts of light, highlighting small tufts of fluffy-winged seeds, spiralling and soaring in the breeze and somewhere, within the cool, dark, caverns of under-earth, the chime of rock, root and soil begins its soft, ceaseless, song of renewal.

Stirred from slumber beneath the…[Read more]

Princes Street, Edinburgh, in early May. The morning is bright, the sky opaque with a promise of blue, and there’s enough chill in the air to warrant the cardigan I left on the back of the chair in the kitchen. I’m walking on the sunny side of the street – the side across from the gardens – with measured, purposeful steps as I head to a train…[Read more]

Lyrical determination (thin on legend)

2001, around eleven, on the first day of May, lying on a sun-striped bed in an attic studio, John Martyn exhorted, ‘May you never’, in a voice fluffy and worn as the sheet beneath them and a saxophone further ramped  up lust while Fran Lloyd satisfactorily surrendered her virginity to Ivo Kinnersley. Ivo,…[Read more]