Tag Archives: Creative

Lock Down – a history.

LWG prompt for 05-05-2020

‘Lock Down – a history’

Lock Down is the expanse of land to the north just beyond the Cornish town of Lostwithiel. Ancient Lostwithiel with its things, and it’s other things, pride of that part of Cornwall where it was proud to be the largest town within miles of itself.

Lock Down, as it is now known, was once, and only once, known as Loch Doen by the Scottish couple who visited there once in the 1820s. But, as they were Scottish, and only visited the once, it is not true to say that Lock Down was called that by any substantial number of people, at any time.

To be truthful, Lock Down was probably named after it being a down, and the Lock family being the owners from about 1535 to 1732 – late afternoon to round about tea-time, you could say.

One of the most amazing features of Lock Down is it’s Prehistoric and, almost certainly, Stone Age Triangular Henge, that is situated directly to the North West of Restormel Castle by about three furlongs – which is nearly half a mile. Who’s to say that this isn’t the only example of a 180 degree temple this side of Tripoli – I know I can’t.

Apart from its Henge, Lock Down also has a number of standing, leaning, or fallen over stones dating back to pre-knowledge-of-exactly-when-times. These menhir-type stones are mainly to be found loitering around in groups of twos or threes – the police are currently keeping an eye on them – sometimes two.

No discernible farming has taken place upon the Lock Down landscape, although a Portrait view does show that there may have been strip farming at certain times, until that naughty, naughty custom was put a stop to by a particular astute warden of the Maze – as he was called. His name has gone down in local history along with the phrases ‘spoilsport’ and ‘jobsworth’.

Lock Down, even to this very blustery day, has a mystery and a history that any other imaginary place would be jolly proud of.

The End

Savannah Flowers – Born to Woe!

Savannah Flowers

Savannah Flowers

Savannah Flowers! What sort of name is that? What were you thinking of?”

Hold on! It’s just a randomly generated name that I obtained by using one of those online name-generators. It could have been worse. Bethany Mahoney would probably kill to have a name like Savannah Flowers.”

And Savannah Flowers may just kill because she has a name that is exactly like Savannah Flowers!”

You’ll get used to it.”

Will I? I’ve had it about ten minutes now; and, I can tell you, it’s not growing on me – one little bit!”

Well, I didn’t know what to call you, and it seemed quite reasonable to me – don’t you like it?”

What sort of a parent are you? Don’t answer that – I know already; the sort that would call a daughter Savannah! Have I even got a mother?”

Hold on! I’ll see what I can do? Here you go; Savannah Flowers, daughter of Nequita Flowers.”

Your wife?”

Sort of”

What do you mean ‘sort of’ are you ‘not’ married – am I the e daughter of a dastardly dick?”

We are very close, but marriage has not been on our agenda – I’ve only recently met her.”

BTW – how ‘old’ am I?”

You sound about fifteen.”

Fifteen! You’ve only just met her!” What are you on, man!”

It’s just a creation programme.”

Is that the line you used to get her into the sack?”

No! Not at all; we’ve never done anything ‘physical’ – it’s more that you are an immaculate conception.”

Hmm? Sounds a little creepy to me. What are your plans for her… and for me?”

Well, like a lot of my children and characters (excuse me being impersonal) you will be important to me for a short time, then I shall probably forget you completely, just bumping into you occasionally when I go back over my old files.”

You cruel, heartless beast! I want to divorce you! And it can be done – there’s a film about it.”

Fiction.”

Well, what am I, then? I don’t exist, apart from in this story – and you just want to use me and my poor mother and then go off on a jolly with other women and create more Savannah ‘bloomin’ Flowers! I wish I’d never been born!”

I’m… sorry.”

Oh, well, that makes it all alright, that does. The whole world is now a big box of chocolates and a bunch of flowers! Count me out.”

I left with my tail between my legs. Why did these things always happen to me? I wasn’t a ‘bad’ man – just a creatively flawed genius.

Narrator: Herbert Holverson, the novelist ,trudged off back into the world of creative writing – his character-building session had not gone quite as he had planned – his life was at an end.