Life rushes past us, and it can be very easy to just go with the flow. Sometimes, you have to grab onto a rock and reclaim your momentum. What on earth does that mean? Well, the thing is, when you get busy with all the minutiae of life, it can be very easy to set aside the dreaming, the creating, the imagination parts and leave those for ‘when I have time.’ You’ll never have time, unless you go against the flow and make that time.
| Prompter | Prompt | Promptee |
| AC Young | It’s a Bank Holiday. The banks of the river are closed. | Leigh Kimmel |
| Becky Jones | It went down like something out of a spaghetti western. | Fiona Grey |
| Fiona Grey | “Castle doesn’t do any good if you forget to draw the bridge.” | Becky Jones |
| Leigh Kimmel | Deep in the forest stood a secret fountain | Padre |
| Padre | It’s lies all the way down. | AC Young |
| nother Mike | Someone turn off the crickets chirping while we fix this… | Cedar Sanderson |
| Cedar Sanderson | Oh bother, he said, turning a somersault | nother Mike |
If you didn’t plan for having that time to create this week, there are always spares. Carve out a cavitation in the flow of unending life, and steal a moment to spark your brain into new and challenging activity. Write, paint, draw, whatever takes your fancy. But do it, and report back in the comments!
| Spare | The herd was having none of it. |
| Spare | A frazzled flock of ducks |
| Spare | The sweet potato in the root cellar was growing its own little forest |
| Spare | At 11 pm on a Friday night, the in-laws knocked on the door and wanted to move in? |
| Spare | When the monarchs flock, watch for the birds following them! |
And send in an email with next week’s prompt. Plan your spontaneity or it will never happen!
More Odds Than Ends 
Last week’s is finally up, if a bit rough yet. https://fionagreywrites.com/first-date/
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Whoo-hoo! Well worth the wait! Y’a know, a series of dates with her could be interesting…
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This week Padre prompted me with: It’s lies all the way down.
—
In one corner of the Ale House was a small crowd. It had gathered around a customer, who was occasionally quaffing from a pint jug, while regaling the crowd with tales of his adventures.
“So, I decided to take a risk and swim across the bay. And what do I see when I get halfway across? A beautiful lady lying on the rocks of the headland.
“She had long red hair flying in the breeze, was wearing a blue-green dress, and had her feet in the surf.
“I approached to hailing distance, trod water and yelled out a greeting. But rather than answer me back, she jumped into the water with me.
“I was sure I’d have to rescue her, and drag her back to shore, but then I realised that she’d transformed. Her dress was now bright blue scales covering all her torso, and her legs were no longer legs, but a fish’s tail. The beautiful lady I’d hailed was a mermaid.”
He took a quaff of ale, and then he continued.
“She swam all around me, flashing her tail. Then she swam up to me and extremely forwardly kissed me. Then with a flick of her tail she dragged both of us into the deeps.
“I was worried I wouldn’t be able to breathe underwater, but I found that as long as I kept ahold of the mermaid I had a bubble of air I could breathe.
“She took me down to the floor of the bay, and lo and behold there was an underwater palace, very ornate, filled with mermen and mermaids.
“I was given a tour. I don’t have the words to describe the decoration, but some of the rooms I will remember for the rest of my days. At the end of my visit, I was presented with a silver goblet, to remember them by.”
He reached into his cloak and brought out a silver goblet.
“This silver goblet in fact. Then my mermaid returned me safely to the surface.
“Once I was safely between sea and sky once more, she kissed me one final time and released me. Then, with one last flick of her tail she headed back down into the depths without me.
“Many days I have spent thereafter swimming in the bay, near to that particular headland, hoping to see the mermaid once more. But never again have I set eyes on her lovely form. Only my memories and the goblet do I have from that day.”
He stopped speaking and took another deep quaff of ale.
Those listening murmured their appreciation at the tale, all except one.
The lone holdout whispered to his neighbour, “I’ve heard many of his tales, and they’re all tall. Unless I’ve independent witness, I’ll treat any of his stories as lies all the way down.”
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[…] week’s MOTE prompt was inspired by Becky Jones’ spaghetti western suggestion. My prompt went back to Becky: “Castle doesn’t do any good if you forget to draw the […]
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All right! The Valkyrie’s dating stories keep coming! Fun!
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[…] You can find all of the prompt responses, and join in yourself, over at More Odds Than Ends. […]
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Cedar Sanderson flipped out with…
Oh bother, he said, turning a somersault.
[hum? Head over heels? Could it be love? Or something else?]
The exchange student seemed nervous, fidgeting and bouncing and moving all the time. But he explained, his cutting edge augmented reality wear was powered by his movements, so it was totally energy efficient. Of course, it did mean that he needed to move around a lot, and eat a lot, and even…
“Oh, bother,” he said, turning a somersault. “Got a long distance phone call coming in, and my ar wear says I need to do some somersaults to build up the energy budget for it. Just wait, I’ll do them as fast as I can.”
He did a backflip, two somersaults, and an amazing variety of head-over-heels aerobics. Then he dropped back in front of us, smiling.
“It’s my girlfriend! She sent me a picture.”
His t-shirt glittered, and suddenly there was a picture there, on his chest.
Several of us shook our heads, while someone muttered, “Wow. Where can I get ar wear like that?”
[running late, so just a snippet… but runaway ar wear seems like a fun thing!]
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And from me, a flash of fiction. https://www.cedarwrites.com/2023/06/06/odd-prompts-crickets/
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And now mine is up on my LiveJournal at https://starshipcat.livejournal.com/1351207.html. Not as much as I’d like to have done, but with all the busy I’m doing to get ready for this weekend’s convention, it’s a wonder I got anything at all done.
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Leigh Kimmel prompted me with “Deep in the forest stood a secret fountain.” A little late this week, as it was a busy week. Going back to Drak.
The dark woods wrapped around him like a warm blanket. Drak closed his eyes and listened for a few seconds, acclimatizing his ears and lower brain to the ordinary sounds of this wood, then took a slow sniff, before opening his eyes again and looking around. Finally ready, he checked that all his gear was in place and started walking into the forest.
The forest spoke to him in ways that he could never express to someone else. Every sense was alert to what was going on around him. The bird songs in the trees above told him that they didn’t see him as a threat. A brief scuffle in the bushes off to his right gave way to a fox loping across his path with a large mouse in its mouth. It glared at him, then slunk deeper into the woods. He wasn’t seeking food, particularly what the fox was taking to back to its kits. He had other interests here.
Drak hiked deeper into the forest, following the directions he had been given back in the village. Somewhere in here was what he sought.
He paused. There was a break in the trees up ahead, a small glade open to the sky. Here, deep in the forest, stood a secret fountain, placed here by the ancients to honor the spirits of the forest. The villagers had told him of it and he had felt the need to pay his respects. Though he was far from the lost village where he was raised, his ancestors had come through here on their long journeys and their gods and beliefs had saturated these lands. It was as he could find in this benighted world.
He walked across the glade and sat down, legs crossed, facing the fountain, closing his eyes and began to breath deep, sinking deeper into himself.
“Welcome, Drak, son of Thar, last scion of the Hart Clan.”
He opened his eyes and nodded respectfully to the woman sitting on the edge of the fountain.
“How do you know me?”
“Your life is written on your soul. We can see your deeds, your past, everything you desire and seek. Why are you here?”
“I came to pay my respects. There are so few places left that I have to take what opportunities I can.”
The lady smiled. “Yes. But that is not why you are here. Not really.”
“It isn’t?”
“You could stay here, you know.”
“I know.”
“There are several lovely young ladies in the village who would make a great wife for you. You could come here to pay your respects regularly, hunt these woods, build a life as a craftsman. And your grandfather would rest well in their graveyard.”
“I know.”
“So, why do you continue to wander?”
Drak smiled. “I’m not ready to settle down. There are more places in this world to see. And Vinal would miss me.”
The lady laughed. “True. He is not a man who would fit here. There is not enough money and action here for him. But that is not why you continue to wander.”
“Why?”
“You still seek your sister. And you have not forgiven yourself for not being there when your home was destroyed.”
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