Concrete Witness Pt 5
Concrete Witness, Longer Shorts, Random Short Stories, Relationships 2 Comments »Hi!!
Oooo! Fifth and final instalment time…
(The last four are: here, here, here annnnnd…here!)
I have left this late to write because I was stupidly scared to start. I generated the words about 15 mins before I had to pick Youngest up from nursery, looked up what secant meant and also the various definitions of Pallas (this disambiguation page is extensive!)…then I fell down the rabbit hole of YouTube on purpose after picking up Eldest.

From Jimpix
[Who doesn’t need to fold laundry while shedding a tear over the stories behind the beautiful voices from past televised talent show auditions?!]
I didn’t let myself sit and just find my ‘in’ to the last part of this story until the noisy background of bathtime. The kids must have conditioned me in some crazy way to think better through numerous distractions?! My 20 mins came up with the below. It is what it is…
Pallas Bitter Secant Imperfect Restricted Wrist Cart Plain Barriers
I keep your picture in my head
Way you move, way you smile
But blood lies all around
Rose lies broken on the ground.
Blood and Roses by Pallas, from the album: Beat The Drum
As Ollie first looked around, he thought maybe he’d fallen asleep to the old Pallas tape again. He was somewhat surprised not to be in his own bed, and to see his mother asleep in a chair: bun all askew and her handbag dangling from her unconscious arm.
This did not bode well.
There was a cup to his right that appeared to have water in it, but when he tried to drink, he realised it was laced with the lemon juice that his mother swore by. With his booming headache, the bitter hit was far from welcome.
Where was Bridget, Ollie wondered. Had she ended up here, too? As he shifted in the bed, he could feel other parts of his body complaining, so he guessed that maybe they had been in some sort of accident?
“It’s like you’ve been a miserly secant to my whole life and thrown me back this tiny sliver!!”
Oh yes…Bridget had been very upset that morning (was it night now? How long had he been out?). He shouldn’t have stayed out with Kev. Product launches are meant to be imperfect; staying up to the small hours poring over the figures, their creative flair restricted by alcohol, was never a smart idea…
His mother gave an exclaimation when she opened her eyes and realised he was awake.
“Oliver! Thank God! I was so worried!”. She moved to sit on his bed, her smooth hand caressing his wrist.
“Hi, mum” smiled Ollie “where’s Bridget? Is she ok?”
His mother’s face changed. “Hopefully they’ve had the sense to find her and cart her off to the nearest police cell! There’s been a plain-clothed policeman skulking about here for the last few hours, like he’s got nothing better to do than wait for you to wake up… Miriam from the next street told me there were barriers outside yours, earlier. At least they’re taking things seriously!”
Ollie’s eyes had widened. He wasn’t quite sure how to process what his mum had just said. “So…Bridget had something to do with my injuries? Was she driving?”
Ollie’s mother blinked. “You weren’t in a car…from what the doctor said you were lying in a pool of blood on the patio when they found you!”
“WHAT?!?”
“Yes, apparently no-one saw anything, but a few of your neighbours reported the sounds of an argument, when the police went door-to-door…”
THE END
My eyes are drooping, so I will have to backdate this post, but I am glad I was able to write something,eventually, and not get beaten by the generator. I’ve been watching Julia Cameron (in interviews and speaking on YouTube) the last few days, and I am striving to keep pushing my comfort zones for my art 😉
It’s been about a decade since I wrote Morning Pages. I may start them again to fully embed my creative re-awakenings…
[Pic is from here]
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