A Comfy Kind Of Restless

Hey there 😉

One of my regular readers, Michelle, gave me this picture as a prompt today, and asked me to use Textfixer as my generator to guide the story I compile this week.  I think this may be another fun assignment!

I first got Textfixer to give me five words that could make up the title:

Words: thin, diametric, complicated, expressive, cloth.

I liked the sound of Expressive Cloth because I thought there could be many connotations when related to a circus environment.  I then researched Circus Roncalli a bit (as it is the name on the side of the trailer in the pic) and Wikipedia said that ‘Roncalli’ is also the legal surname of the popular Pope John XXIII.  Another ‘cloth’ reference…

‘Godsent’ then came up as one of my nine-word mix, along with the name Mary.  The universe is having fun again, obviously! 😉

Dial   Fugitive   Sideways   Comrade   Companion   Godsent   Hot   Live   Mary

I tried not to be jealous, dial down the fugitive feelings of inadequacy and age that always accompanied my witnessing of rehearsals.  As I watched her nimble body twist sideways and fly between the apparatus as if suspended on strings, I knew I was failing.  Every muscle was reminiscing.  I longed to climb that ladder again.

“Comrade!” he boomed from somewhere to my left, “you are thinking of her mother, no?  Every day I see that look on your face: how you are her companion up there in spirit.  Pulls at the strings of my heart!” he thumped me on the back.  “I salute you for letting your daughter carry on the traditions!  Her talent is godsent, my friend.”

I nodded, did not trust myself to speak.  Gavrill knows only too well what it is like to lose a loved one to this business.  I gripped his shoulder in solidarity, and made my way back to the trailer.  Hot tea awaited me; along with a summary of my fortune, if I refused to live better with my grief.  I didn’t need a woman festooned in scarves to tell me this; my memories of Mary were becoming harder and harder to bear.

Lots of backstory in just 201 words, eh?!  Wonder where my protagonist will go from here.  Come back tomorrow and we’ll see what nudges Textfixer gives me…

Pssst!!! I need inspiration for next week – please follow the instructions on my Facebook’s ‘sticky post’ challenge if you want to help me out and choose a picture and generator for me to play with! Thaaaank Yoooou!!

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Hi!

As I said yesterday, my last set of Jimpix words gave me an idea for how I wanted this story to end – so I decided to just write the end of it today, no matter how long it would turn out to be.  Over 1.5K words later, I had finished 😛

I did not ask Jimpix to generate any words for this bit, I just carried on the drama that was already unfolding in my bonce.  Hope you enjoy it!!

Mew came over to see if she could claim her prize once more, but Nate caught her and struggled to the back door.  “Will I chuck her out?  Does the catflap lock?” he asked.

“No, it doesn’t for her, just her pals.”  I said, starting to examine the bird for any damage.  “I have no idea how Mew managed to get through with the cygnet!  He looks a few weeks old, quite big.  Have a look outside and see if the mother is searching for him, will you?  I don’t want Mew getting into a fight with an adult swan!!”

In his inebriated state, Nate didn’t think to look for swans through the kitchen window, but instead opened the back door.  Two excited dogs and a delighted cat bolted down the garden.

“Oh” said Nate.

“Can you stand, dear?” I asked Miriam, as Popcorn started barking incessantly from what sounded like the lake end of the garden.

“Yesh!” said Miriam “I’m abso-loofly fine.  Why?”

“Well, it would be great if you could go and help Nate get the dogs in before my neighbours want to lynch me.” I smiled “I think Popcorn might be having a bit too much fun out there, and I don’t want Rufus escaping again”

“Ok” said Miriam, staggering off “I’ll just go powder my nose firsht…”

The baby swan looked as if Dracula had popped by.  I really didn’t like the depths of his wounds at all and was at a loss for what I could do for him.  I got a few towels from the cupboard as blankets, then put him up in the bathroom with the door shut so that I could easily clean any mess he made, and Mew also couldn’t get to him.  I knew what unfortunate move I’d have to make next, so I went back downstairs to break the news to Miriam and Nate.

I found them both in the garden, trying to reason with an irate and protective Sheltie in front of Rufus’ old kennel. 

Rufus was still rampaging about, declaring his glee at the top of his voice and Mew was standing  hissing at the defensive Popcorn, obviously intent on getting in to maul whatever was being protected.

“What on Earth…?!” I started.

Ivor’s voice answered me from the direction of the side gate (he’s got to stop doing that disembodied thing!!)  “Ah!  Hello Cassandra!  I was wondering where you were – that little Sheltie is quite the sheepdog, isn’t she?  Herded those birds in there quick smart!  Just as well too, that cat looks like she’s up to no good.  Is she yours?  Is that your Nephew there? Quite a party you’re having this morning.  Em…are you aware it is after 1am…?”

“’Morning Ivor”  I said, releasing the bolt to let him in “is there a swan in the kennel, then?”

“A mother and two babies!” nodded Ivor “are they regular visitors?”

“Mew invited them” I said

“Mew?”

“My cat.  She throttled one of the cygnets and I think the mother must be looking for it”

“Oh.  Is it in the kennel?”

“No, my bathroom.  Would you like to go and keep an eye on him for me?  I need to try and help here…” I said

“Have you got any of those Oat biscuits left from the other day?” asked Ivor “for me, not the swan.  Of course”

“Yes, in the tin on the counter” I said, rolling my eyes as he walked past me.  “put the kettle on too, if you like”

“Right-o”

Miriam came rushing up to me “That cat is a menace!  She scrashed me, look!” Miriam thrust her wrist in my face and bumped my nose a bit “sorry.  It really hurtsh!  I hate cats!”

“I’m sorry she did that to you, she likes throwing her considerable weight about.  If she’s daft enough to risk the wrath of a mummy swan, she’ll think nothing of swiping at a human, I’m afraid.  Do you need a band-aid?”

“No, I’ll live,” Miriam huffed “just come and deal with the brute!  She might hurt Popcorn.”

It appeared to me (and Nate) that Popcorn was more in danger of hurting us.  She really was reluctant to let us near the kennel on her watch.  Nate and I went after Rufus and Mew instead, and shut them in the kitchen.  I took Mew’s collar off so her catflap’s opening device wouldn’t recognise her.  Popcorn stopped barking, and lay facing the kennel instead, growling if a swan-neck dared to protrude.

Ivor came down and cheerfully informed me that I was getting low on oat biscuits, and the cygnet had soiled quite a bit of the bathroom floor already.  Miriam wrinkled up her nose and sank into the recliner again, and Nate sighed and looked very tired.  “What are we going to do, Auntie Cass?” he asked.

“Well…um…” I swallowed “I’m worried about the cygnet Mew attacked, and we need to get the other swans out of the kennel before sunrise, so I think we’ll have to phone Debbie…”

“DEBBIE??!”

“Yes, Miriam.”

“WHATEVER FOR?!”

“I think we are in real need of her expertise, and” I tried for some humour “after all that’s gone on recently, she’s unlikely to charge a callout fee…”

”NO!”

“But I don’t think the cygnet will survive without her, Miriam” I said

“I CAN’T!”

“You could hide in my room, she needn’t know you’re here…”

“I have every RIGHT to be here!”

“I know that, but…”

“So why would I HIDE?!”

“Well”  I said, starting to feel a bit flustered “to keep out of her way.  Avoid a confrontation.”

“Why would there be a confrontation?” asked Miriam “I have nothing to say to her!”

“Sure you do!” said Ivor “The woman sto…” he suddenly caught my look and fell silent.

“Maybe you should just do what Auntie Cass suggested, mum.  I’ll sit with you, if you like” said Nate

“She’ll see your car.  She’ll know you’re here” said Miriam, re-crossing her arms and frowning even more deeply. “I won’t be hiding from anyone”

“Ok, that’s settled then! I’ll go and call her, you can sit here: not hiding” I said.

Miriam just harrumphed.

Debbie got to mine about 45 minutes later, looking very nervous.  My brother had stayed in bed, apparently, which was selfish but wise.  I took Debbie straight upstairs and she agreed with me that the cygnet’s prospects weren’t too good.  It had gone downhill in the last hour, and was making no attempt to move any more.  Debbie got on her mobile and woke up a friend of hers from the local animal shelter.  He promised to be along within the next half hour.

To her credit, Debbie smiled at everyone as she walked through the livingroom to the back door.  I probably should have taken her out the front again and round by the path, but part of me also wanted a little revenge.  Nate and Ivor said their hellos, but Miriam had decided that the kitchen layout in an old IKEA catalogue was infinitely more fascinating than making eye contact.

Popcorn seemed pleased to see us.  She was still in front of the kennel, but appeared to be bored with her role now, so let us make a fuss of her and then flash a torch into the doghouse.  The mother swan immediately tried to attack us, a determined look on her snowy face.  Debbie spoke kindly to the bird, telling her that she was just wanting to make sure her young were ok and that she didn’t mean them any harm.  Something about the tone must have calmed the swan, because it stood at a reverent distance after that, and let Debbie gently shoo the cygnets out one at a time.

I had to admit, the woman had clearly found her calling in life.

“They look fine, Cass.”  Debbie said “probably pretty frightened by the Sheltie getting so close to them, but they seem unharmed.”

Sure enough, the mother swan began ushering her babies down the garden, looking like she didn’t want to hang about any longer.  It seemed she had given up her third cygnet for lost, and that made me sad.

When we went back in, Ivor was shifting from foot to foot at the back door, looking excited.  “What’s happening?” I asked

“There is a young man here, asking for Debbie” Ivor said “Miriam is livid!”

I cringed, and hurried through to the livingroom once more. “Hello!” I said to the man, loudly, trying to drown out Miriam’s furious line of questioning “are you from the shelter?”

“Yes!” he replied

“What?” said Miriam “he’s homeless?  Why was he asking for Debbie then?  Does she take in every stray male?!”

Ivor guffawed behind me.

“The animal shelter, Miriam!” I said “he’s come for the cygnet”

“The what?” said Miriam (honestly, she shouldn’t drink)

“The baby swan, mum!” said Nate, rolling his eyes.

“Well, go upstairs then, man!  It’s in the bathroom, of course!” said Miriam.

“Of course…!” mumbled the man from the shelter, heading back out to the hallway.

“Sorry about that” I said to Debbie, who was looking  mortified.  “Tea, everyone?  I know your friend will have to leave, Debbie, but you’ll stay for a thank you cuppa, won’t you?”

I could feel the daggers emanating from Miriam, and made a point of not facing her before I turned back into the kitchen.  They say that looks can’t kill, but I am loathe to test the theory.

THE END

Yaaay!  That was fun!  Thanks again to Helen for the picture of the feather and for her choice of the Jimpix generator 😉

Who wants to bagsy the week beginning the 5th of March?!

Pssst!!! I need inspiration for Monday’s post – please follow the instructions on my Facebook’s ‘sticky post’ challenge if you want to help me out and choose a picture and generator for me to play with! Thaaaank Yoooou!!

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Hey 🙂

So today’s Jimpix words set up a little scenario in my head that I wanted to explore and as a result this piece is more of a thirty than a twenty minute one (I forgot to set the timer, if I’m perfectly honest) I got an idea and just ran with it!!  This story will also go to a sixth instalment because it’s not been finished today…ooops!!

I am obviously enjoying my characters waaay too much this week.  Hazard of the job 😛

(Here are the posts from Mon, Tue, Wed and Thurs ). 

Harlot   Sober   Thoughtful   Host   Plugged   Rowlock   Grinding   Ascension   Fumble

It turned into a messier night than I had envisioned when Nate first opened the white wine. 

Around 11pm we gave up trying to get Miriam out of the recliner, and just covered her in a blanket.  It was decided that Nate could now take the spare room instead of the couch. 

Nate and I retired to the kitchen, chewed on a couple of microwaved pizzas, and giggled about silly things his uncle and I thought were cool when we were first dating.  Nate also told me about some of his dates.  I’d have been labelled a Harlot if I’d acted the way young girls do today.  Sober, I’d probably have put on my ‘thoughtful auntie’ face and pretended to have been a bit scandalised – but I was tipsy, so I was much more fun.

“I love that you invited us over tonight, Auntie Cas.  I think mum really needed the company and chat” grinned Nate.

“Annnd here’s youuur host, live and unplugged: Cassaaaandra Rowlock!” I slurred “I really do think we went a little Jerry Springer-esque with the Debbie-bashing; very disrespectful to your father, not to mention her.  We shouldn’t do these things in front of you, y’know” I gave him a conspiratorial wink.

Nate laughed “I’m a big boy, I know you’ve both been hurt by his actions and care about Dad a lot.  He’s actually lucky to have had either of you in his life.   I also know you admire Debbie, you raved about her handling of Rufus when she moved here”

I ruffled Nate’s hair “you’ve grown up so well my darling, I am embarrassingly proud of you, as are your parents.  If I’d had a son…” the usual tears sprang up, and I paused to swallow them down with a lump of pepperoni .“These pizzas are surprisingly good, Nate.  I wonder if…”

Miriam’s scream woke both dogs with a jump, and almost knocked me off my kitchen stool.  Nate went pale.

“Are you ok?!” we shouted at once, running through to the livingroom and snapping on the light.

Miriam was standing, swaying, on her chair; a tangle of blanket around her feet. “A RAT!! A RAAAAT!  A GIANT RAAAT!” she shouted, pointing behind the couch.

I groaned, as Mew streaked past me “Are you sure?  Did Mew bring it in?” I asked, gesturing to Nate to grab the other end so I could move the offending piece of furniture.  My silly hip was already grinding in a worrying way, and I was glad I had the alcohol to bolster me if there was indeed a humungous rodent hiding a few inches from where I stood…

“I TOOOOLD YOU I HATED CATS!” Miriam flapped, from her perch.  Mew chose that moment to make her clawed ascension up the back of the recliner and right onto Miriam’s arm. 

I swear Mew grinned as Miriam was deftly caught by her son, mid-topple.

I peered down at the carpet, and saw what looked like an extremely large ball of bluey-grey novelty yarn poking out from under the radiator.  It was moving.  Curious, I prodded it gently with my foot (now quite sure it was not a rat, for it definitely had feathers).  It gave a mournful half-squawk, and a long limp neck flailed to one side.

“Goodness!  I think it’s a baby swan!” I gasped.  I got on my knees and implored Miriam not to make any noise that would scare the poor thing any further.  I didn’t want us to fumble this rescue attempt and have the bird die on us: I was feeling sad enough for it already.

Awww bless the ball of fluff!  Tune in tomorrow and see what becomes of it!

Pssst!!! I need inspiration for Monday’s story – please follow the instructions on my Facebook’s ‘sticky post’ challenge if you want to help me out and choose a picture and generator for me to play with!  Pretty please?!! 

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Hey you 😉

It’s Thursday…fourth instalment time!

(Here are my offerings from Mon, Tue and Wed this week)

My Jimpix words were:

Dairy   Curling   Dog   Popcorn   Cairn   Nestle   Computer   Eager   White 

My Nephew stopped by the shop on his near-daily wander to the newsagents next door, intent on fulfilling his paper and dairy needs.  His hair was curling from the squally rain that had settled over the town that morning, and his crazy dog,Popcorn, was almost choking herself trying to see Rufus.

“Hi!” I smiled “how’s your mum doing?  Should I call her again?”

“She’s so-so” Nate hedged, planting a soggy kiss on my upturned cheek, “it’s very kind of you to keep looking out for her.  I know Dad’s being a prat, but still…”

“Ach, Miriam never deserved any of this! I’m livid with your father!  You know: he hasn’t even tried to contact me?!” I busied myself with constructing a cairn-like edifice with the rainbow 4-ply, and tried to remember not to make Nate feel too awkward.  “How are you doing, more to the point, darling?  This can’t be easy stuff to handle”

“I’m just worried about mum.  What Dad does is his own business, but it would have been nice to have had some warning.”

Popcorn wuffed her agreement as she tried to nestle in a nearby basket of fabric oddments.  Her lead was a little too short, however.

Nate looked uncomfortable, “of course, it must have been a bit of a blow for you not being invited to your own brother’s wedding?  Have you seen the Facebook posts?”

“No!” I said “Are they sickening?  I’ve not been on the computer today”

“She’s very…young” said Nate “let’s just say I’m not too eager for Mum to see them!”

I groaned.  “Was it a big, white affair on some balmy beach, then?”

“Well, there was no floofy dress” said Nate, gesturing to indicate a large bustle-y skirt.  “Lots of fake tan and pouting selfies, mostly”

“Lovely!” I made a face.  “You got time for a cuppa, darling?  I’ve a sudden craving for a meringue…”

Final instalment tomorrow!  Whoop! I wonder where it’ll lead…

Pssst!!! I need inspiration for the coming weeks – please follow the instructions on my Facebook’s ‘sticky post’ challenge if you want to help me out and choose a picture and generator for me to play with!  It’s always much appreciated!

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Hiya 🙂

While the snow is piling up out there (and a red weather warning’s in place til tomorrow morning) we are ok for the moment!

I have written part 3 (here are parts one and two if you need them) Jimpix wasn’t too mean, so yaay for that 😉

Starveling   Annum   Hexapod   Pending   Cigarette   Anarchist   Resistant   Present   Cured

Mew tried to cheer me up after dinner, delightedly depositing a starveling  mouse in my slipper a nano-second before I inserted my toes.

That was not the nicest experience.

Mew is a prolific little hunter; if I was paying her I think she’d be the highest grossing kitty per annum around here (with strong emphasis on the ‘gross’).

She pairs up with Rufus to dispense with anything of the Arthro- or Hexapod variety.  Rufus whines at it in a certain way, and Mew comes running; death pending an in depth paw investigation.  They really are an asset to any household…

Miriam had been quite tearful on the phone, I’m not sure whether she’s fallen off the wagon for good, but I could definitely detect pauses for anxious draws of a cigarette.  Again, I silently thanked my lucky stars that I hadn’t ended up with some anarchist for a husband, and instead had chosen a man who had remained steadfastly resistant to unseemly behaviour all his days.  He’d have given my brother a piece of his mind; as would my Dad.  I miss them both so much: they were proper gentlemen.  They would have been so sorry to see Miriam in her present predicament.  I wish there was some way I could have prevented half of Dad’s estate going to my brother, and have kept a chunk safe for her.  Him declaring bankruptcy like that was just a huge con, obviously, seeing as he just got married abroad…!

Could selfishness like that ever be cured?  I don’t know where he got it from, I always thought my brother was swapped at birth.  Our mother was such a gentle soul…

I will again endeavour to write and post another instalment for you tomorrow!

Take care if you are out and about in snowy conditions over the next 24 hours, especially if you are driving!  The school and nursery here are closed again; we will be praying for no power outages once more and thinking about our favourite books despite the kids not being able to dress up with their peers for World Book Day 😉

Ciao for now!

Pssst!!! I need inspiration for the coming weeks – please follow the instructions on my Facebook’s ‘sticky post’ challenge if you want to help me out and choose a picture and generator for me to play with!  It’d be much appreciated!

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Hello!

I left you on a bit of a cliffhanger yesterday…so let’s get right into Part 2, with the new set of words that Jimpix gave me:

Skinned   Calendar   Agonizing   Exchange   Dispenser   Archivist   Flump   Cerium   Hushed 

I could have skinned my brother by the time Ivor finished his tale.  Almost a full calendar year since we mended our bust-up over Dad’s estate, and I envisioned another agonising exchange in his doorway.

Ivor looked gleeful in his role as ‘dispenser of scandal’.  Bless him.  Nothing like a good bit of gossip to brighten one’s day…

I wasn’t sure, as I closed the shop early and stomped home, which part I was most hurt by: that my brother had eloped and therefore excluded me from the wedding; or that I would now have to find a new vet.  I couldn’t very well go to her now – poor Miriam (my brother’s ex-wife) would think I was condoning him running off with a thirty year old.

At only ten years my junior, I was hoping he’d finally grow up and stop this cliché of ‘mid-life’ shenanigans.  What man really looks good in leather trousers after fifty, anyway?  What self-respecting thirty year old wants to buy into that ‘sugar-daddy’ nonsense, I ask you?  It’s not like he’s made any decent money in his life!!

An archivist by profession, it seemed my brother didn’t want to preserve his relationships as much as start a collection of them; filing away discarded suitors in a sordid black book or something. 

Who knows…maybe she’ll be the last I thought to myself, already doubting it.  I hit my couch with a FLUMP, and knew I had to phone Miriam. 

I thought of her: all alone in that little flat he’d left her with.  Her kind face, and hair that looked as if someone had knitted the roots from the new mohair line I’d just welcomed into the shop (in ‘Cerium’ colourway).

Why had he felt the need to humiliate her in this way?  Why such a young woman this time? And so local…!

I shut Rufus out in the hall and hushed Mew from living up to her name, letting her finish kneading my lap with her claws before I lifted the receiver.

Oh dear, the brother sounds a bit cantankerous, doesn’t he?!  

We have a weather warning in place for our side of Scotland over the next day or so – I’m hoping that the snow won’t interrupt my power or internet connection and I’ll be able to get part three written and blogged for you tomorrow 😉 

The council here have confirmed that the kids have a snow day, anyway, so it’s a happy ‘Restless’ household tonight!

Catch you as soon as I can…and take care if you’re venturing out in the cold!

Pssst!!! I need inspiration for the coming weeks – follow the instructions on my Facebook’s ‘sticky post’ challenge if you want to help me out and choose a picture and generator for me to play with!

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Hi 🙂

In The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron the author talks about synchronicity and being able to spot the universe helping you out when you decide to own your creativity.  Well, I have had experience of it today!

Helen on Facebook picked a lovely picture of a blue-tinged feather from Pixabay to inspire my scribblings this week, and also asked me to use the Jimpix generator.  I dutifully asked Jimpix for 9 words, and it gave me them on a pretty, pale pink background.  I screenshot the words and saved them to my computer; then remembered that because it is the first day of a new story, I would need a title.  I went back to Jimpix and asked for five words, closed my eyes and hit the ‘generate words’ button seven times for good luck (seven is a favourite number of mine) before saving what it came up with:

Not only was the background my favourite colour – two words of the five relate to birds/feathers!!  (Skein [see definition 4] and mew [the meaning with the small 4 after it!]) What are the odds?! 

Want some more spookiness…?  I wrote this poem on the 21^st of February last year, and it has geese flying overhead, a woman sitting knitting (a ball of yarn can be referred to as a skein)…and I explain later in the accompanying post that in my head the yarn she was knitting with was blue.  (Remember what colour the feather in this week’s picture prompt is?)

I’m a little freaked out by all of this 😉

Of course, the nine words Jimpix spat at me were not going to be easy to incorporate but – hey – I can’t have everything…

Merge   Dike   Aged   Chromate   Sums   Tendril   Davit   Cabinet   Deceit

I like it when the shop is quiet around 3pm; I’m usually just starting to get sleepy, and I can settle with my knitting and relax a bit.  That day, I was getting to my favourite part of the sock process: where the stitches are all joined, and the needles seem to merge together to become more manageable. (I’ve been making longer socks for my nephew recently, so at that point I know I have quite a while before I have to turn the heel).

Rufus was out the back, digging a small dike, excited because he’d managed to bring me an old spanner earlier.  It sat at my feet, looking forlorn, its aged chromate coating helpless against the amount of weather it had obviously endured.

I chuckled to myself. “That about sums up how I feel!” I said, aloud.

“What does?” came a voice.

I jumped: at first absurdly convinced the voice had come from Rufus, who had re-entered the shop at that second, trailing some poor plant’s tendril off his tail, while looking suspiciously downcast.  On turning my head, however, I realised that the head and davit-like neck of my neighbour were poking through the open front door.

“Oh, nothing…just speaking to inanimate objects as usual” I breezed, a little embarrassed.  “What can I do for you?”

Ivor brought the rest of himself into my shop, and started rummaging through the baskets of the nearest cabinet.  He never buys anything.  My nephew thinks Ivor ‘fancies’ me.  I think he’s just a lonely, nosy old man with nothing better to do with his time.  I keep up the pretence that he’s my favourite customer, though.  It’s a comfortable deceit. 

Sometimes he brings me homemade scones…

“I heard about your brother” he said, far too casually for the enormity of the bombshell he was about to land on me.

Join me tomorrow for Part 2!!

Pssst!!! I need inspiration for next week – follow the instructions on my Facebook’s ‘sticky post’ challenge if you want to help me out and choose a picture and generator for me to play with!

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Hey 🙂

Here is the last instalment!

[If you need a link to one, two, three and four…you’ve got ‘em 😉 ]

These are the nine words Random Word Generator came up with for me to use today:

Scrape   Salmon   Child   Marketing   Enemy   Rifle   Tidy   Seize   Observation  

He’s been shouting at me for a long time.  At least, he thinks it’s directed at me.  I’m waiting for his breakthrough.

Standing in this kitchen, my hands morphing into hers as I scrape the brown meat from the salmon, I have the clarity of a child.  His hurt is coming off him in waves.  It could engulf me, so I am keeping up the walls.

My internal monologue is changing.  I am starting to realise that this long 18 months of writing/discovery/marketing/being sought out has made us rail against each other as one does against a foe.

But he is not my enemy.

I saw his copy in the same bag.  He was using her photo as a bookmark.  There were passages highlighted from every chapter.  I almost felt proud…

The rifle was bulky, but he still had room for my book.  He hadn’t brought a change of clothes.

“Why did you take it?!”  he wails.

My tiny, tidy, living room whirls into view as he spins me round.  The knife skitters along the worktop.  I feel lucky he didn’t seem to notice that, as his large hands seize mine.

One thing most of my positive reviews pick out is my keen observation skills.  I feel as though I have not studied his face properly in a very long time.  I can see the panic in his eyes now that his last resort is gone.  I can feel his thundering pulse through the pads of his fingers.

I suddenly know what I must do.

“Dad, I love you” I say.

I hold his head in my lap as he cries.  This cottage can shelter us both for a while.

I’ll have all my family at my fireside tonight.

I hope that you find this ‘ending’ satisfactory and you have liked where I went with this prompt picture and the generator that Sandy asked for me to use.  I’ve enjoyed wrapping my head around the inspirations, and I will be starting a new story (for a lovely new reader, Helen) on Monday…using Jimpix again!!:)

Catch you then…

(see my Facebook’s ‘sticky post’ challenge for details if you want to bagsy a week inspired by a picture and generator you chose)

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Hi!

We are on the penultimate post for this story already!  The picture from here is the one that Sandy (one of my regular readers on Facebook) asked me to use as inspiration for this week, and I again utilised her specified generator to decide what direction this part of the narrative would take. 

(Here are parts one, two and three if you missed any)

These were the words for today:

From Random Word Generator

And this is how I used them in my 20 minute writing session…

Rider   Fair   Distortion   Complete   Pursuit   Represent   Glimpse   Publication   Owner

I shudder when motorbikes pass by.  If the rider looks at me I hold my breath and wonder if they notice.  I always imagine guns and shattered bones and blood.  I see my once-fair hair soaked in scarlet, my life ending, illuminated by blue lights.  I know I shouldn’t give the universe such visual prompts, but I can’t help it.

I have my Father’s hair.  It doesn’t suit my dark eyes, but I live with the distortion.  The rest of me is Mother.  I am standing trying to make out what she saw in this complete fool of a man, and his pursuit of material gain.  Maybe she found his confidence refreshing? 

He doesn’t defer to any higher power, he’s all about the now: this moment, how he can squeeze it to produce the ultimate gain.  I can’t remember if he’s always been like this?  I know he was forever working late and that they rowed.  But I don’t quite understand how he came to represent the opposite to all I feel to be real in this world.

I idolised him once, my Mother said.  There are photos in the cottage of me sitting on his shoulders, but I feel that they are other souls.  I catch no glimpse of him today, that man with the adoring eyes and gentle hands.  Where did all our vulnerability go?

I think it left with mother…

Back at Lake Heaven I can forget he exists.  There I feel like Mother is in every leaf and stone.  She caresses my cheek by the water, and guides my hand while I write; whispering wisdom through the wood-smoke and always visiting in peaceful dreams.

The publication of my experiences did not mean I became the assured owner of them.  Instead it felt like sacrilege: an alchemist exposed.

How will this end?!  Come and see what the generator spits out for me tomorrow, and I’ll try and fashion something fitting 😉

(see my Facebook’s ‘sticky post’ challenge if you want to bagsy a week inspired by a picture and generator you chose)

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!

Hiya!

We’re on part three, here are parts one and two if you need them 😉

Today’s selection had a food connection again!  I’ll have to stop munching snacks at my laptop…

From Random Word Generator

Frank  Detector  Movie  Ignorance  Calorie  Dish  Faithful  Intelligence   Book

“I have always been a frank detector of bulls**t, as you know” he says.  “When someone offers us a movie deal, but then is cagy about the money question, I know they are hoping to rely on my ignorance.  But you and I know, baby: I’m not in any way naive! I’ve been in this game far too long to have the wool-pull done to me!”

I cringe at this swiss-cheese statement.  The old me would have added to the ironies, but I keep quiet and try not to openly scan for exits.

Every calorie I forced down seems to be rising in my throat again, waiting to dish revenge on the tablecloth.   I long to flee this place, with its glowing screens and complicated days; circular talk and meaningless adulation.

Why did I promise to be faithful to this madness?  Where was the intelligence in ripping myself away from the place my creativity thrives, and returning to the turmoil that broke me?

I did not write a book to become a commodity for a spiritually starved population.  I wrote to free my own soul, dance in my uniqueness, find a drum beat that made sense. 

Somehow I have summoned a torrent that is anything but refreshing.  Now I am gasping for air.

Join me tomorrow for part 4 😉

Come visit the Facebook page and follow @ComfyRestless on Twitter

Copyright © 2018  Montaffera All Rights Reserved

Please do not use any of my content (posts, pictures, poetry etc) without my permission, but feel free to link back to my blog if something catches your eye. Thank you!