Curtain: Six Sentence Stories

Posted on March 17, 2018 by Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist

As we got closer, the blue sky was obliterated and headlights were needed in the middle of the day to negotiate through the pollution that hung low to the ground like a fog rolling in from the sea.

Chipping and tapping sounds could be heard, becoming louder as we neared the wall. There was a sense of great excitement. The crowd, wielding hammers and pick axes, were euphoric as they battered their tools into the brightly painted surface  obtaining souvenirs for themselves as they demolished  the cement barrier at the Brandenburg Gate.

We joined in, swept up in the celebrations. We wanted our own piece of history as the iron curtain was swept aside.

Thank you to Denise for hosting SSS

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© irene waters 2018

My piece of Berlin wall. I didn’t have the thrill of being there myself but my husband happened to be visiting his sister in Germany at the time and he and her husband made the memorable trip.

 

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Skywatch Friday 16th March 2018 Noosaville 5.24pm

Posted on March 16, 2018 by Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist
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For my Friday skies from round the world 

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Time Out: Three Line Tales

Posted on March 16, 2018 by Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist

 

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“Your full of puff ‘n hot air. What’s wrong with smelling the daisies?”

“There’s work to be done. Fish to be caught. Mouths to feed. That’s what’s wrong.”

“Chill darlin’. Take a whiff. Makes you feel alive don’t it and the workday shorter.”  

In response to the prompt given by our host Sonya.

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Relics of War in the Coral Sea: Traces of the Past Yr 4:03: Thursday’s Special

Posted on March 15, 2018 by Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist
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We were lucky in Weewak, the capital of Papua New Guinea’s East Sepik Province, to pick up a local girl in a brand new dual cab. Not only did we have the best guide on the island but in air conditioned comfort. The girl turned out to be the daughter of a kamakaze pilot who was lucky that the war ended before he had to suicide. At 96 he still lives in Weewak and hosts an annual pilgrimage from Japan to remember those lost and another that comes yearly searching for bones and other war wreckage.  She took us to the top of Mission Hill where a monument to the soldiers is found. The Japanese used this as a lookout being able to see Milne Bay and any ships entering.

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© irene waters 2018

Occupied by the Japanese during the war the foliage gave perfect hiding spot for the heavy artillery.

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In Rabaul the Japanese built over 300 miles of underground tunnels, an engineering feat designed to conceal munitions stores, hospitals and more.

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Remanants of a couple of japanes fighter planes. Prior to the volcanic erruptions of 1994, which half buried these relics in ash, they were in better condition (well as well as could be expected for a plane that has been shot down.

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On Kiriwina Island we had relics of a different kind to look at.

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I don’t know that these are genuinely the remains of local people who fought and died in World War II. I think it much more likely that these are local remains, possibly in the resting place they have always been but the local people, poverty stricken, have discovered a new way to part the tourist from his dollar.

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© irene waters 2018

In a country where vegetation grows quickly there are still traces of the past to be seen.

In response to Paula’s Traces of the Past – A Thursday’s Special Prompt

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I’d Rather be: Weekly Photo Challenge

Posted on March 15, 2018 by Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist

How can you hear those words and not immediately think of Simon and Garfunkel’s El Condor Pasa. The song has been buzzing around my head from the moment I saw the prompt this morning.

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© irene waters 2018

I’d rather be a sparrow

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than a snail – yes I would

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I’d rather be a hammer

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than a nail – yes I would

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I’d rather be a forest

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than a street – yes I would

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I’d rather feel the earth beneath my feet – yes I would but what would I rather be………

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I’d rather live life on the edge in everything I do whether it be writing or dancing, travelling. I’d like all fear to dissipate that might stop me from taking a risk or doing an everyday something in a different way. Otherwise I have to admit I’m doing what I would rather be doing.

In response to Weekly Photo Challenge 

And for those that I haven’t managed to have singing the tune

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Night photography: Friday Fictioneers

Posted on March 14, 2018 by Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist
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“What ya lookin’ for Dad?” 

“If I’m lucky son I’ll shoot a meteor shower.”

“Wow. Do they happen often Dad?

“Nope. But there’ll be stars.”

“Can your camera take them. They’re so little and so far away. Perhaps you should take the ceiling in my bedroom. I’ve stuck stars on it.”

“Nope. I want stars filmed in the great outdoors.”

“Take the sun then. Its a star but its big and bright and there in daylight.”

“Cause it’d damage your eyes son.”

“But there are lots of medical advances these days Dad. They could probably fix them.”

In response to Rochelle Wiseoff- Fields who hosts Friday Fictioneers and to Ted Strutz for providing the photo for the prompt.

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Setting Sun: Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge

Posted on March 14, 2018 by Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist
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In response to Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge

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Stone Age meets Technological Age: Wordless Wednesday

Posted on March 14, 2018 by Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist
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Sheila’s angry: Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Posted on March 13, 2018 by Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist

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Sheila picked her way over shards of broken glass, quenching her anger as she went. She focused on the pieces, lit by the sunlight. “You’re even beautiful when shattered,” she whispered to no-one. The vase had been a present for her twenty-first birthday and the only memory piece she’d kept of her mother when they downsized. Her eyes welled with tears and she tried to bring back the anger. It was easier to manage than this overwhelming sense of loss.

“Harry!” Screaming abuse at her husband would give her an outlet but her call was met with silence. ‘Harry!” Her angry call was replaced by one filled with anguish as she noticed a ladder lying on the ground with her husband on the floor next to it. She rushed to Harry but could see it was too late. He was gone.  Fifty years together, the love of her life.

“Harry, you bastard. I’ve told you before – put the safety catches on the ladder when you use it.” Anger definitely made it easier.

word count 174

Thank you to Priceless Joy for hosting FFfAW and to Enisa for providing this week’s photo prompt.

Posted in creative writing, flash fiction | Tagged , , , , , , | 35 Comments

Fungi: Tuesdays of Texture

Posted on March 13, 2018 by Irene Waters 19 Writer Memoirist
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© irene waters 2018

Cherry Red

smooth heads poking 

Rough bark hosting.

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Salmon pink

Striated gills

Shine with light

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Looking down on cherry red

whilst upwards image captures that beneath

leaves so green and smooth

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© irene waters 2018

What has the greatest beauty

cherry red, grey bark of tree

Or salmon gills no longer seen

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