Round The Bend ( Flash Fiction for the Trifecta Writing Challenge)

                   

                                      

I wouldn’t recommend toilet travel to anybody. Not to mention the inconvenience of finding yourself in a cubicle already occupied by a random bloke in the process of pushing one through the loop.

I still find it embarrassing even though I’ve been doing this for so long I think my face is now a permanent shade of scarlet and frozen in a grotesque look of horror. What other face can you wear when you constantly find yourself sitting on somebody’s naked lap? I think it’s worse when they’re wiping. Don’t get me wrong it’s bad enough during the big squeeze and sometimes I arrive just at the moment of the splash. But wiping is different. Nobody wants me around then.

Usually I just run and sometimes there’s the safety of a spare cubicle where I can curl into a ball whilst they finish off their constitutionals. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this but ever since I discovered that bloody secret room at the back of my house, the one with the fully functional toilet and the quaint little floral toilet roll hanging from the wall, I’ve been stuck. It was alright for Enid Blyton, she had a Wishing Chair and a Magic Faraway tree and a world full of little elves. But what did I get? The incredible flying toilet!

I want to go home. I want to get off this ride but it won’t stop. It’s worse when they have Diarrhoea, God help me, they can be there all day but I can’t wait that long. That’s when it gets even more embarrassing.

I only have ten minutes until my amazing flying toilet disappears, leaving me stuck in a strange world with no hope of getting home. Sometimes I have to push them off so that I can get back on.

                             

                      © Ally Atherton January 2014

I have recently had the pleasure of being introduced to the Trifecta writing challenge. You can find all about it here. This week you have the word QUAINT as a writing prompt (the 3rd definition of the word) and have to write something between 33 and 333 words long. You have to include the word in your piece. The top 3 are chosen every week and shared on the website. All you have to do is go to the website and link to your blog post entry. Take a look at some of the entries and feel free to make comments to other people taking part. It sounds like a great way to meet other writers.

Now onto this week’s Trifecta prompt. We’re back to one word and its third definition. And, of course, as many syllables as you please in your 333-word limit!

Happy writing!

QUAINT (adjective)

1:  obsolete:  EXPERT, SKILLED
2a:  marked by skillful design <quaint with many a device in India ink — Herman Melville>
  b:  marked by beauty or elegance
3a : unusual or different in character or appearance :  ODD
  b : pleasingly or strikingly old-fashioned or unfamiliar <a quaint phrase>

Remember:
• Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
• You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
• The word itself needs to be included in your response.
• You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
• Only one entry per writer.
• If your post doesn't meet our requirements, please leave your link in the comments section, not in the linkz. - See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.u5UKDheu.dpuf

Now onto this week’s Trifecta prompt. We’re back to one word and its third definition. And, of course, as many syllables as you please in your 333-word limit!

Happy writing!

QUAINT (adjective)

1:  obsolete:  EXPERT, SKILLED
2a:  marked by skillful design <quaint with many a device in India ink — Herman Melville>
  b:  marked by beauty or elegance
3a : unusual or different in character or appearance :  ODD
  b : pleasingly or strikingly old-fashioned or unfamiliar <a quaint phrase>

Remember:
• Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
• You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
• The word itself needs to be included in your response.
• You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
• Only one entry per writer.
• If your post doesn't meet our requirements, please leave your link in the comments section, not in the linkz.
• Trifecta is open to everyone. Please join us.

This week's word is QUAINT. 

- See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/search?updated-min=2014-01-01T00:00:00%2B08:00&updated-max=2015-01-01T00:00:00%2B08:00&max-results=3#sthash.lJ5YNSZT.dpuf

Now onto this week’s Trifecta prompt. We’re back to one word and its third definition. And, of course, as many syllables as you please in your 333-word limit!

Happy writing!

QUAINT (adjective)

1:  obsolete:  EXPERT, SKILLED
2a:  marked by skillful design <quaint with many a device in India ink — Herman Melville>
  b:  marked by beauty or elegance
3a : unusual or different in character or appearance :  ODD
  b : pleasingly or strikingly old-fashioned or unfamiliar <a quaint phrase>

Remember:
• Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
• You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
• The word itself needs to be included in your response.
• You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
• Only one entry per writer.
• If your post doesn't meet our requirements, please leave your link in the comments section, not in the linkz.
• Trifecta is open to everyone. Please join us.

- See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/search?updated-min=2014-01-01T00:00:00%2B08:00&updated-max=2015-01-01T00:00:00%2B08:00&max-results=3#sthash.lJ5YNSZT.dpuf

Now onto this week’s Trifecta prompt. We’re back to one word and its third definition. And, of course, as many syllables as you please in your 333-word limit!

Happy writing!

QUAINT (adjective)

1:  obsolete:  EXPERT, SKILLED
2a:  marked by skillful design <quaint with many a device in India ink — Herman Melville>
  b:  marked by beauty or elegance
3a : unusual or different in character or appearance :  ODD
  b : pleasingly or strikingly old-fashioned or unfamiliar <a quaint phrase>

Remember:
• Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
• You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
• The word itself needs to be included in your response.
• You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
• Only one entry per writer.
• If your post doesn't meet our requirements, please leave your link in the comments section, not in the linkz.
• Trifecta is open to everyone. Please join us.

- See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/search?updated-min=2014-01-01T00:00:00%2B08:00&updated-max=2015-01-01T00:00:00%2B08:00&max-results=3#sthash.lJ5YNSZT.dpuf

Now onto this week’s Trifecta prompt. We’re back to one word and its third definition. And, of course, as many syllables as you please in your 333-word limit!

Happy writing!

QUAINT (adjective)

1:  obsolete:  EXPERT, SKILLED
2a:  marked by skillful design <quaint with many a device in India ink — Herman Melville>
  b:  marked by beauty or elegance
3a : unusual or different in character or appearance :  ODD
  b : pleasingly or strikingly old-fashioned or unfamiliar <a quaint phrase>

Remember:
• Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
• You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
• The word itself needs to be included in your response.
• You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
• Only one entry per writer.
• If your post doesn't meet our requirements, please leave your link in the comments section, not in the linkz.
• Trifecta is open to everyone. Please join us.

This week's word is QUAINT. 

- See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/search?updated-min=2014-01-01T00:00:00%2B08:00&updated-max=2015-01-01T00:00:00%2B08:00&max-results=3#sthash.lJ5YNSZT.dpuf

Now onto this week’s Trifecta prompt. We’re back to one word and its third definition. And, of course, as many syllables as you please in your 333-word limit!

Happy writing!

QUAINT (adjective)

1:  obsolete:  EXPERT, SKILLED
2a:  marked by skillful design <quaint with many a device in India ink — Herman Melville>
  b:  marked by beauty or elegance
3a : unusual or different in character or appearance :  ODD
  b : pleasingly or strikingly old-fashioned or unfamiliar <a quaint phrase>

Remember:
• Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
• You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
• The word itself needs to be included in your response.
• You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
• Only one entry per writer.
• If your post doesn't meet our requirements, please leave your link in the comments section, not in the linkz.
• Trifecta is open to everyone. Please join us.

This week's word is QUAINT. 

- See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/search?updated-min=2014-01-01T00:00:00%2B08:00&updated-max=2015-01-01T00:00:00%2B08:00&max-results=3#sthash.lJ5YNSZT.dpuf

New Year , new push.

Ok it's 2014 and things aren't going swimmingly well in my world at the moment. I have found myself temporarily out of work and finances are more of a disaster than they normally are. I have spent more than 20 years in nursing and having made the conscious decision to leave for my own sanity and although a whole universe of people have told me that I will be fine, I'm not. So much for having transferable skills, nobody seems to want to know. On paper I do have transferable skills but in practice that's a load of bullshit.

I may have to go back into nursing on my own terms once I have saved up the money to pay the £100 registration fee. £100 a year for what? You don't even get a proper registration card anymore. £100 to work in an environment that makes me ill. To anybody who knows me they will know that I have always hated nursing, I don't think I'm a bad nurse, or a super nurse either. Maybe a bit of both at times. But to be brutally honest, I have been nagged to death for the last 13 years and more, hence why I am trying to get out.

Writing has always been my passion and I have wanted to write since I was about seven and have done , on and off. This year I am going to make a concerted effort to go for my writing, but it's not easy when you are also trying to get yourself out of a financial black hole. I am going to try my hand at all kinds of fiction and hope to use this blog to follow and chart my own progress. I still want to do some author interviews and book reviews but the emphasis has to be on my writing. I am concentrating on my first novel and a novelette and my first collection of short stories. I also want to take part in some blog challenges and to send of some work for publication. I am also hoping to do a weekly serial and to publish some of my work here and at Wattpad. You can find me at

http://www.wattpad.com/user/AllyAtherton

I am still undecided on whether I will take on some non fiction freelance projects or just to concentrate on my fiction, but I will see how I feel.

Graveside Manner

I think I have become nothing but a blur, as inconsequential as a puff of wind or a damp leaf. I am normally here day in and day out, kneeling or sitting cross legged like an infant or stood upright with my hands behind my back, that’s another one of my favourites. Those that spot me usually leave me alone and I think that’s because most of them are scared of me, the mad man of St Mary’s. But I’m never alone anymore and I have never had so many friends as I have now, it’s just that they are dead.

 They’ve all got used to me coming here and to be honest I think it’s a relief for them because they must get bored with nobody to talk to. Eternity, after all, is a very long time to spend on your tod. Of course not all of them are that welcoming and some of them like old William Hitchen are just miserable old gits and love nothing better than to wallow in their own self-pity. All I ever get out of him are grunts and sighs and the occasional tut tut. I’ve tried to cheer him up plenty of times but he just doesn’t seem to see the point seeing as he’s dead and all that and living in a wooden box six foot under. I do see where he’s coming from though and I guess there’s no point in getting him to try to see the positives, there aren’t that many really.

But that’s why I spend so much time here. Everybody needs somebody to talk to from time to time and I also enjoy their company. I think most of them appreciate my efforts and I also help to keep their gravestones clean, getting rid of dead heads and fast food cartons, that kind of thing.

 In fact I don’t think I’ve ever had so many friends, I was always a bit of a loner and always found it hard to make friends. Social anxiety I think they call it these days, it was a bloody nuisance. But in my day, especially under the circumstances, we didn’t have much choice. All brought together like herds of cattle. Sometimes locking horns and at other times scared witless.

I was telling Betty Scowcroft this morning about how it used to be and she’s a brilliant listener, although she doesn’t say much herself. All I know is she died in childbirth in 1889, in a two up two down affair just down the way. It wasn’t the kind of death anybody should have, lots of screaming, lots of shouting and then silence. A terrifying silence and few moments later the undulating cries of a baby that would never get to see its mother.

Nobody visits her anymore. That’s the saddest thing about being a long time dead, most of your nearest and dearest are also dead. You can’t even begin to imagine how painful it can be to lay there all alone, time fluttering by like a moth without even glancing back over its shoulder. I think Betty enjoys our little chats though and she is opening up to me slowly, even told me that I remind her of her Bertie. I think he was buried over in Harrogate sometime in the thirties. Met a girl after the war and moved down that way, had a little hardware shop until his own death. She doesn’t talk about him much, mainly because she doesn’t know all the ins and outs, just a selection of details whispered over her stone many years ago. And she’s always been a bit deaf, you really have to shout. Poor old bird. It can be very frustrating you know, listening to your loved ones talking over you and not being able to get a word in. After a time it gets so annoying you end up closing your ears but it takes practise to do that.

Thankfully most of them don’t do that to me, unless they are in revere. That’s when they’re not contactable. It happens to all of them from time to time and can last anything from a few days to a number of months. I’m not sure why it happens. I just chalk it off as one of those unexplained spiritual phenomenons. Whether they are off to meet their maker for a little while or having yearly appraisals, I don’t think I’ll ever get to the bottom of it.

John Catterall once spent an entire year in revere and the bugger came out of it one day and said he didn’t even realise he’d gone anywhere. He’s got a filthy mouth on him. I’ve lost count of the number of nights I’ve spent listening to his blue jokes. He must have been a right character when he was top-side and a bit of a ladies man as well by all accounts. It doesn’t go down well with all the residents as you can well imagine, especially when he tells the one about the nun, the prostitute and the errand boy from Tarleton.

Some nights he gets out of hand and I have to intervene and do my best to calm things down. When they all start shouting and bickering it can get ridiculous to say the least. I must admit though I like to egg him on a little bit and tell him my own dirty jokes from time to time, but they are about as funny as a dislocated shoulder. But I usually get the odd giggle and the occasional slow hand clap; I still haven’t worked out how the hell they do that.

Mr and Mrs Sheepshank, over in the far corner by the begonias told me once that things often get pretty tense because of religious and political differences. I like them and always know where to go whenever I feel like having a deep and meaningful conversation. Sometimes we can chunner on for hours all three us, going anywhere in any direction from Arthur Skargill to the conflict in Afghanistan to whether they really should bring out another series of Come Dine With Me. We nearly caused an uproar one day last September when we got on to the subject of sex before marriage. Even a few of the folk in the cremation section were banging on about it for weeks.

Sometimes though I just like to mingle. Perhaps just a simple ‘Hello, how are you doing?’ will suffice and then I’ll move on to the next one. I call it the St Mary’s shuffle. Although not all of them are keen on talking and a few prefer to keep themselves to themselves and I have to respect that. And you also have to be conscious of their individual moods and personalities. I couldn’t tell my dirty jokes, for instance, to Mr Evans in plot number 54 because he used to be a lay preacher and he gets rather tetchy. I think it’s because he feels as if he he’s been short changed by God. After all he was expecting to spend an eternity at the right hand side of Jesus but instead just gets to listen to Veronica Whittle, next door but one, going on about how cold it is and how it won’t stop raining. I must admit it would send me crazy as well. For all pretence and purposes it must be like listening to the constant drone of a dentist’s drill.

Then again there are walkers like me. There aren’t many of us around and most of the others prefer to spend time away from the churchyard but it suits me fine. I get more sense out of my friends here than anybody top-side. I can’t keep up with how fast things are changing anyway. People don’t seem to want to talk to each other these days, they’ve got their heads permanently glued to their mobile phones and most of them have more chance of knowing who has been knocked out of Britain’s Got Talent than actually knowing their next door neighbours name.

I blame the internet. There was none of that in my time. These days most people waste their entire lives playing Candy Crush and poking each other and the way they talk is all gibberish to me. It may as well be Welsh or Gaelic or Narnian for all I can understand.

No I prefer it here in the church yard where the age old tradition of conversation hasn’t been flushed down the bog. I don’t know what they all think of me and I’m not sure what they say behind my back but at least they know I’m here and usually answer me back when I speak to them. Unlike most of the up-top  visitors who stroll in here willy-nilly with handfuls of freesias and carnations, with their heads full of whatever delicacies they are going to have for their tea and the X Factor and Sex.

Yes it’s very true is that. They come in here with their puff pastry faces, walking around all ginger like as if they’re in a bloody library and nine out of ten times they’re thinking about getting their ends away. I think that’s what they call it these days but I could be wrong. They didn’t call it that in my day but there again, we had other things on our minds. The most important one was staying alive, didn’t do me much good in the end though.

I think that’s why I’m glad I’m not down there. I spent enough time in those piss stinking trenches and that would just be a reminder of those bastard days of webbed feet and my poor mates with half their brains hanging out of their heads.

                       

                                   Ally Atherton 2013

Dark Matter by Michelle Paver

      Disillusioned by his life Jack sets sail for the Artic where he will work as a wireless operator as part of a five man expedition team. As the night's draw thin and the sun disappears, things start to go bump in the night and people begin to go a little thin on the ground. 

      

      I absolutely adore this book. Told from the first person perspective we experience life on Gruhuken, where it is perpetual night and where the sea freezes and the ice talks. As ghost stories go this has to be up there with the best. Jeffery Deaver says that it's like Stephen King meets Jack London; and I know what he's saying, it's scary and compelling and a thoroughly good read.

      I can't remember a book that has scared me and hooked me like this for a long time, maybe it was actually Stephen King's 'Bag Of Bones' and this book reminds me of that one. It's well written, well crafted and stays with you. Not bad for a random book that I plucked up at my local library. This has all my favourite ingredients; a fantastic setting, horror, a great story and huskies! Can't beat huskies in a novel! I must read more from Michelle Paver!

      An amazing 5/5.

Need to Know : Writing Fiction

      This is a great little book released by Collins and written by Alan Wall. It is full of helpful advice for any wannabe writer, old or new. It is split into various sections including plotting, characterization and setting and is pretty much a must read.

      It also includes lots of neat writing exercises and is very much a creative writing course within a book. What I also loved was the way it uses lots of published novels as examples when going through each section rather than just talking about the elements of fiction writing.

      I have learned so much from this book and hopefully it will improve my writing and I plan to read more of this kind of thing in the next few months.


      Very helpful  5/5

Lenore Noogies

                                                         By Roman Dirge


     
      
I fancied something a little different and couldn't resist grabbing hold of this at my local library.


It's the first time I've read a graphic novel and I happily read it whilst sitting in my back yard with a can of lager and with the Chorley sun shining.(Which doesn't happen very often.) It's a series of silly stories in the surreal world of a cute little dead girl!

Well I couldn't think of a better way of spending a day off and it is hilarious! I kind of fell in love with the cute little dead girl and must catch up with her again at some point. Maybe again with a can of lager and a spot of sun.

If you fancy a laugh, a real laugh and not just a laugh that you get at the expense of acquiring a literary headache ( see the 100 year old man that jumped out of a window and disappeared), then read this! It's not a comic, honest, it's a graphic novel.


Ok it is a comic. 5/5

Book 24 A Kind Man

                                                           By Susan Hill


   
       Living somewhere in industrial England, this is about one woman's struggle to deal with life, loss and the impending doom of widespread poverty.

      It sounds gloomy but Susan Hill's beautiful prose is spellbounding at times and each page is almost edible as she paints words like not many other writers can. This is the story of Eve and how the joys of childbirth and marriage can crumble and force you to take a different, haunting path.

      I absolutely enjoyed reading this but found the ending left me feeling a little bit short changed and too many questions were left hanging for my liking. Maybe that was Susan't intention but personally I would have preferred a different one.

      I would have given this a 5 if it hadn't been for the ending.


      Wonderful, skilful writing,


      4/5 Must read more from Susan Hill.