And when the rain fell, they looked at each other and they laughed. Running through puddles, pushing and pulling at each other as they ran. Their laughter was loud and happiness radiated from their eyes. To live in the moment was a miraculous thing.
And she looked around, took in a huge breath of clean air and jumped. The mountain was high and her board left a wave of snow behind her. Her mind was silent, her body moving so effortlessly down the slopes… is this what heaven feels like…?
And then she wailed. The birds, who had previously been singing their eve song, closed their beaks. Even they knew this was no longer the time. The air stilled and a respectful, unsure tension overcame the earth. A wail that was so powerful it stilled every nation could surely only come from an unbearable, unspeakable pain.
So, this month – exercise!
I have been walking a little more, done a very occasional jog and even tried my hand at some basketball… After 2 hours of trying to dribble and shoot hoops – we were done! Time flies when you’re having fun but I can assure you, time definitely does not fly the following day when everything hurts and you can barely walk!
I am also trying to raise funds for life-changing research into multiple sclerosis!
Blondie’s voice rises above the nearby chatter, “Just lick it off.”
She tilts her head, smiles shyly, “I’d rather just wash my hands, thanks.”
The table of people watches her go with amused, frustrated smiles on their faces.
“Some people just don’t like it. It’s like an OCD kind of thing… Is she OCD?” Asks the brunette.
“She’s never liked it.”
Heads turn sharply to where the voice drifted over from. The woman continues on, collecting their empty glasses as she speaks, “As a kid, she couldn’t stand it. The slightest thing on her fingers and she had to be taken to wash her hands. Everything would have to stop until her hands were clean… like she couldn’t focus on anything other than that.”
The elder speaks, “I didn’t realise you’d known her that long… or that you knew her at all, really…”
A smile, small and troubled flashes briefly before she leaves with the empties, a quiet, “Yeah” can only just be heard as she turns her back.
Hands now clean, she makes her way back to her chair, noticing everyone at the table is eyeing her.
The brunette asks, “Didn’t realise you knew Caroline..?”
She looks up, making brief eye contact. Her previous smile turning sad and troubled, “Yeah.”
“You want me to speak? You want to hear my voice? Then listen to me. I’m a subtle person, I ain’t about to start shouting just so my voice rises above yours. You want to hear what I want to say, you gotta shut up for a second and listen to me.”
Manual of English Grammar and Composition
J. C. Nesfield, M.A. Macmillan and co., Limited, St Martins Street, London (1913)
Dialects of Old English:
North of the river Humber and up to the Scottish Highlands. Represented by Northumberland and lowland Scotch. Less perfectly used by Yorkshire and Lincolnshire. Imported by Angels.
Between the Humber and Thames, the great ancestor of modern English. Closely allied to the dialect of Saxons than Angles and Danes.
South of the Thames, imported by Saxons. Named in the 16th Century as being Anglo-Saxon however it was never referred to as this at that time.
Back to Basics: The Education You Wish You’d Had
Caroline Taggart. Michael O’Mara Books Limited. Tremadoc Road, London (2012)
Helen of Troy
She was actually the wife of Menelaus, King of Sparta. She only ended up in Troy due to running away (possibly abducted by) with Trojan Prince, Paris. Thus resulting in a war.
He was a demigod, the son of Zeus and a mortal woman. He went on to have to complete 12 near impossible labours, hence the modern expression ‘a herculean task’.
Poems and Prose
Edgar Allan Poe, Everyman’s Library Pocket Poets, Vauxhall Bridge Road, London (1995)
Spirits of the Dead
Thy soul shall find itself alone
‘Mid dark thoughts of the gray tomb-stone –
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy:
Be silent in that solitude,
Which is no loneliness – for them
The spirits of the dead who stood
In life before thee are again
In death around thee – and their will
Shall overshadow thee: Be still.
The night – tho’ clear – shall frown –
And the stars shall look not down,
From their high thrones in the heaven,
With light like Hope to mortals given –
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee for ever.
Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish –
Now are visions ne’er to vanish –
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more – like dew-drop from the grass.
The breeze – the breath of God – is still –
And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy – shadowy – yet unbroken,
Is a symbol and a token –
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of mysteries! –
Write a 250 word story. Person A wakes up to find Person B sitting on the edge of their bed. Person A reacts…
The time is 6:40am. Sun is just starting to shine through the curtains, making silhouettes appear on the walls. It is early, the birdsong being the only sounds coming from the streets below.
The small room was taken up mostly by the bed standing in the middle of the room, a cluttered floor surrounding it. Alex lays blissfully unaware of the person appearing in his room. They tread slowly and carefully through the organised chaos of his room until they make it to the side of his bed, slowly sitting down on the edge.
As she sits there looking down at the back of Alex’s head, an ominous feeling starts to come across the room. The blank look on her face not being one of contentment, but of utter indifference.
Alex starts to slowly stretch as he becomes aware of his surroundings. Taking in the sunlight streaming into in the room, he moves onto his back, reaching for his phone. Startled by a presence beside him, his body jolts as he tries to move away. His instincts to get away work against him as he falls over the other side of the bed and lands with a dull thump.
He slowly raises his head to look towards the intruder, suspicion evident in his eyes. His sleep addled brain finally takes in the young girl starring at him and manages to ask, “Who are you?”
The girl, silently rises from the bed, sadness shining in her eyes as she leaves.