
© irene waters 2018

© irene waters 2018

© irene waters 2018

© irene waters 2018
In response to Skywatch Friday where skies from round the world can be seen

© irene waters 2018

© irene waters 2018

© irene waters 2018

© irene waters 2018
In response to Skywatch Friday where skies from round the world can be seen

“Wow. That’s good shit. I’m off my face. Got the munchies but now, thanks to Soyuz MS-028 we got an Aldi. I’d forgotten how heavy two shopping bags full of oreos, ice cream, cheese and chocolate are. Then, normally I’m walking on a flat highway.”
Thank you to Sonya for hosting three line Tales and to photo by NASA (yes, THAT NASA – which is why you want to click through to the full size picture for the full effect) via Unsplash

© irene waters 2018
A prolific flowerer our bougainvillea caused people to stop and stare

© irene waters 2018
as did the bats heading out for their nightly feed – hoping to find prolific fruit to sate their appetites.

© irene waters 2018

© irene waters 2018
A little harder to see but they are their proliferating numbers of fry.

© irene waters 2018
I have to admit this is a prolific I’d prefer not to see as the sawgrub mounds in readiness to attack the next tree in its path.
In response to Weekly Photo Challenge

“Lord Towton I just adore your house and that sculpture.” The American tourist pointed to the large chain mail upside down helmet.
“Thats a memorial to the downed men of Towton Battle. Come see the dining room.” They entered a large room. A beautiful carved oak table seating thirty overwhelmed the room but all eyes went to the deep holes excavated in the floor. “Towton Battlefield. Won the War of the Roses for Edward IV. Seventy five thousand dead. Probably most reluctant. Right on top of the battlefield we are. We’re never short for a conversation topic during dinner.”
Thank you to our host for Friday fictioneers Rochelle Wisoff-Fields and thank you also for providing the photo prompt to Douglas M MacIlroy.

© irene waters 2018
Life on the river is always free and easy whether drinking a coffee, walking the dog or playing by the river’s edge.

© irene waters 2018
To be free and easy some choose to go on the river itself

© irene waters 2018
gliding effortlessly through the water (haha not my experience)

© irene waters 2018
being at one with nature

© irene waters 2018

© irene waters 2018
Others prefer to party

© irene waters 2018
or rather have breakfast after the party.

© irene waters 2018
Me, I love having the freedom to watch the easy life on the river and how it changes day by day.
In response to Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge

© irene waters 2018

Brian had volunteered at the local surf club his entire life. His marriage to Joy was on the beach followed by a reception in the clubhouse. Each of his children conceived after nights which followed long days keeping the surfers safe. It was only fitting that Bruce’s ashes be scattered in the ocean he loved so dearly.
The surfer’s paddle-out ceremony started the day. Surfer’s formed their ring, holding hands, wreaths held between their teeth or around their necks while friends gathered in a silent vigil on the beach. Joy, snuggly fitted in an outrigger bobbed in the centre of the circle holding Brian’s ashes in her hands.
Memories flew between the paddlers and favourite stories took on a new dimension. Only one prayer was offered. Brian wasn’t a religious man. The time came and Joy scattered the ashes just as a gust of wind sprang from nowhere blowing the ashes into the paddlers. Despite whispering everyone heard, “Shit. Brian always was in your face.” A lone dolphin surfaced, a broad smile on its face.
Thank you to Priceless Joy for hosting FFfAW and Goroyboy for providing the photo prompt.

© irene waters 2018


© irene waters 2018

© irene waters 2018

© irene waters 2018

© irene waters 2018
I came too; lying on the ground, my eyes shut tight. I don’t know if I could have opened them. I didn’t want to. The bright purple light made me feel at peace and the forest that was drawn on this backdrop was calming. Verdant green. Mystical. My breathing slowed. My pulse dropped lower and lower.
Bats. Hordes of black spots alighting from the forest. ‘No! My mouth is not a bat cave,’ I wanted to shout but the words froze on my lips.
“Lizzie”
‘Lyssivirus’ I thought before a shake penetrated my consciousness. Eyes opened. Yoga meditation embarrassment.
In response to Charli’s prompt where she asks:
April 12, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes a bat. You can use an association to the winged, cave-dwelling critter, or you can explore the word for other meanings. Bonus points for including a bat cave. Go where the prompt leads.
Respond by April 17, 2018. Use the comment section below to share, read and be social. You may leave a link, pingback or story in the comments.
If you want your story published in the weekly collection, please use this form. If you want to interact with other writers, do so in the comments (yes, that means sharing your story TWICE — once for interaction and once for publication). Rules are here.
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