Tag Archives: #SoCS

Unreliable Witness – #SoCS

‘SoCS’ Prompt: Black, Gray, or White – unreliable witness. As posted by Linda G Hill

See here for Linda’s site

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): So, madam, what colour was the vehicle that you saw leaving the vicinity of the area of Whom Manor at about, or just before, or even just after 11, 12, or 1’ o’Clock on the day in question?

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): So, it was Black, Grey, or White? Can you be a little more specific? No. Okay, it was Black, Grey, or White, and being driven by …

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): Well, I stopped there hoping that you would fill in the details.

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): Well – Man, Woman, Girl, Boy, Other.

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): ‘Yes’ is not helpful, Madam. If you could narrow it down it would be most helpful.

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): Not ‘other’. Yes, that does narrow it down somewhat. We have ascertained that it was a Man, Woman, Girl, or a Boy, driving a Black, Grey, or White vehicle.

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): Not a vehicle? Ah, we are getting somewhere now.

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): It was a ‘Motor Car’. A Black, Grey, or White Motor Car.

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): And in which direction was it going?

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): Forwards. It would be, wouldn’t it.

If – Linda G Hill’s #SoCS

(A prompt for a Saturday Stream-of-Consciousness write – which I restrict myself to doing in 10-minutes – this week the prompt was ‘if’).

See here for Linda G’s site.

—//—

If I manage

to write something

of worth here

I shall be mightily surprised.

And, before we get too far into this,

I am writing prose

in a poetry-looking format –

well, it has to be done.

Anyway,

if I ‘do’ manage

to create ‘War and Peace’

in the ten minutes

that I have allowed myself for this,

no one will be surprised.

Sorry, it should have read,

‘no one will be more surprised than me’,

but it didn’t – if you can follow that.

So, if a picture paints a large number of words

(In the vicinity of a thousand)

why can’t I paint?

If a rhetorical question

gains no answers,

why ask it in the first place?

If I knew all of the questions to some of the answers …

Ha! If!

No, seriously for a second –

why is it that E=MC squared?

Remember, you only have a second to answer that.

If you take too long

you lose a point.

If you answer with time to spare,

well, here is a chest

to pin a badge upon.

If this goes on too long

please let me know,

before I write copious amounts

of drivel

and waste everybody’s time.

Well, obviously, not ‘everybody’s’

that would be slightly over-stating

the dozen or so people

that irregularly read

(or claim to read)

what I do write.

If all (nearly) 8 billion people

read my words

(which they don’t)

and even one percent commented,

that would mean my taking

the rest of my life answering.

BTW ‘if’ is the centre part of ‘life’

that was one of those ‘Squirrel’ moments –

I get them from time to time.

Is it almost over?*

As if!

*the 10-minute alarm went off here – how appropriate. G:)

N.O.T.H.S. #SoCS @LindaGHill

See here! Please do. G:)

N.O.T.H.S.

Not on the High Street

or the Fore Street

(in these parts)

although N.O.T.F.S.

doesn’t scan quite so well;

I can tell

by the double-glazed look

in your wooden eyes

that it comes

as no surprise,

when I waffle on

like this

as I do.

So, what

is not

on the High Street?

You or I?

Or us.

And, we are neither of us,

either to be found

upon a bus…

poetry tinged with the moment’s uncertainty,

may become less accessible

when the steep pavement of Time

is put in our way.

So, let us value

the day,

‘Carpe Diem the day!’

as the Latinos

might never say.

SoCS – Practice. @LindaGHill

And you can Pop here to see Linda’s fine web site and all these lovely prompts.

No, I’m going in cold with this – no practice for me.

Which means that it’s gonna bomb.

I mean – can you have any expectations that this is going to be worthy of the three minutes that it takes you to read this. Not even mentioning the ten minutes that it took me (is taking me) to write it.

Words of wisdom – none!

Pearls of… well, wisdom – none!

Words… well, yes, it has quite a few of those – there may be verbs, adverbs, adjectives, nouns, pronouns, and more of the same. Oh, and definitely, somewhere within, there will be a list – there’s always a list – and what is list it will be.

Some lists just… list things, with no explanation (as does mine) whilst others are purely inspirational, buckets spring to mind, buckets always spring to mind, and then I down an hour deciding what colour my bucket should be. Well, Orange, yellow, basic black – there are oh, so many colours – and finally decide upon a pale mint and cream combination (which doesn’t exist) which has to be made like a kitchen (bespoke) yup, bespoke, and boy that would be an achievement – wouldn’t it?.

Don’t you just love rhetorical questions?

No, you don’t have to answer that.

But, if you want to… don’t.

So, what would I have written if I had practiced?

Nothing much, because I would have thought the heck out of the subject and been too self aware of myself to create anything of worth.

Like this is!

Anyway, I must be getting near my self-set 10 minutes.

Or am I?

Has Time become a Fourth Dimension where every ‘old’ second has become the length of an ‘hour’?

In which case, brace yourself for some rollercoaster of a ride – only what has gone before… *

times 3,600 (or so).

G:)

‘The Key’ #SoCS @LindaGHill

‘The Key’ #SoCS @LindaGHill – Linda’s Lovely site here.

I found a key, close by the door of an old boarded-up building. I thought that the key would fit the door, unlock it, and allow me to enter the boarded-up property, where I would find an old wooden chest which would contain a quantity of treasure that exceeded my imagination to imagine it.

The key did fit the door, and the door opened upon the most unlikely treasure chest location that I could think to encounter. There weren’t any floorboards remaining – due to the ravages of time – and the plaster that should have been hugging the walls was now filling the gaps between the floor joists around the edges of the room.

However, there was a large wooden chest, albeit slightly below flor level, and covered in a thick layer of dust – well dust that had become a veritable skin for the treasure container.

I carefully walked across to where it lay and found that the lid wasn’t locked shut. It opened easily, and without the expected creak that is probably usual from badly maintained hinges.

Now, this is where thing got a little strange.

The chest was very deep. In fact, it was much deeper than theoretically possible, being to a depth of six or seven feet; and there at the bottom of the chest was just one thing, a piece of parchment the size of an old white five-pound note (they were larger than the current five-pound notes, shall we say twice the size?

I was leaning down into the chest to try and reach the ancient paper, when I was pushed by unseen hands and toppled forward. Any light was quickly removed as the lid of the chest closed upon me and , having been winded by my fall, it was a few seconds before I could gather myself. I had a torch, which I retrieved from a pocket, and I gathered up the parchment.

The words upon it, although in an ancient script, were legible,

‘East is East,

And West is West,

Now You are interred

Within this Chest!’

It took me a long time to die. It took me a very short time before that happened to curse my finding of a key to a house that, to my knowledge, had never stood on the corner of Elim Street and Douglas Avenue before.

For a short while I was a kind of a Cause Célèbre in the neighbourhood; then like my earthly body, mentions of me faded away… to nothing.

‘Co’ #SoCS, @LindGHill

‘Co’ #SoCS, @LindGHill

See here for Linda’s fabulous WordPress sited

The room was quite…

well, quiet.

Copious amounts of the absence of noise.

Consequently, when I heard a pin drop, I was startled to say the least,

“The least!”

Thank you.

Who had dropped the pin, I did not know.

I looked around – I was not a square.

Pin’s location and hurler, I knew not where. Nor did I care.

I picked up the pin, and remembered the rhyme:

‘See a pin, pick it up, all the day you’ll have a pin.’

which never made sense to me.

‘Cobalt is a colour: it could be brighter, it might be duller.’

which is something I’ve just made up – is there no beginning to my talents?

“Where” SoCS @LindaGHill

“Where” SoCS @LindaGHill

See here for Linda’s blog and details for #SoCS

‘Where were you when Wednesday came, and went? I know that you ‘come and go’ as is your wont; but, on a need-to-know basis, we need to know ‘exactly’ where you were.’

Whether it makes any sense to you is a matter of no concern to us. We are just doing what we are programmed to do – be it unavoidably etched in binary codes upon our souls, or in a flippant aside made by our master (Hail to Parrlos) which we still obey as if it were one of the ten rules.

So, starveling, where were you?

We can only ask three times, then we have to dispose of you as ‘faulty’. Any ‘Ting’ not found worthy, or deemed to be in a state of disobeyance is to be disposed of.

I ask for the final time: where were you?

No?

Nothing?

In that case we shall have to say ‘arriverderci, starveling!’ ‘

A click was heard. Nothing more. A click where there should have been a shaft of light that ‘disposed’. Another click.

‘There seems to have been an error.’ Obot1 faltered. Its database calculating all possible causes of this occurrence happening here and now.

A light dawned on Obot1’s dark horizon.

‘You weren’t, by any chance, where you shouldn’t have been on Wednesday? Messing with our parameters. Where you could have altered our core programmes?

Starveling thought. ‘Where ‘was’ I on Wednesday? Where?’ And laughed. ‘Where indeed.’

‘Choo / Chew’ prompt #SoCS

‘Choo / Chew’ prompt for @LindaGHill #SoCS

See here for Linda’s fab blog and #SoCS rules

“Have a chew!” You cried out, anguish pouring through your veins.

“No, it’s ‘have at you!’ “ explained Henry. “If you were offering a dog s treat, then ‘have a chew’ would be appropriate; we are fencing.”

Eliza sighed. “I’ll never get the hang of this lingo, gor blimey, love a duck, apples and pears, guvnor!”

“That’s okay, Eliza, it will be a labour of love for me to teach you how now brown cow to speak properly.” Henry was nothing of not optimistic in his powers to convert base metal to gold.

Eliza stood tall again. “Have… at you!” she announced, before plunging the foil deep into Henry’s heart.

Henry’s last words are written as being, ‘By Jove, she’s got it, I think she’s got it!’ In actuality it was only one word that his pierced heart had thought and time for, and that was ‘Bugger!’

For / Four / Fore is the prompt for: #SoCS @LindaGHill

For / Four / Fore is the prompt for:

#SoCS @LindaGHill

See here for Linda’s blog – G:)

Fore Street was busy – for a Saturday – and all the funny footfallers, as I called them, were searching for a bargain. Four ladies individually saw it, in the window of Barnecutt’s, and collectively swarmed into the shop to become the proud owner.

Four pairs of hands grabbed it and it would have needed a photo-finish for anybody to declare a winner. Unfortunately, once clasped by four times ten fingers (including thumbs as fingers – as you must do nowadays) the prize became a battle for ownership. The outcome was foretold by an ancient goddess as ‘the one who keeps a hold when all the others have relinquished their claim shall be the victor’.

And so the battle for the spoils commenced – the rest of Fore Street focussed on Barnecutt’s and the four combatants. First, and foremost, to crumble was a Mrs. Fortuna Fumble who lost a single hand hold and slipped on the tiled floor, incidentally catching herself on the Formica work surface, and her claim was lost.

The trio left fought tooth and nail for the cup of wonder; Fortitude Trennewick had the upper hand; Felicity Forsyth the lower; Fenella Fudge the Fourth was betwixt and between them.

It was at this moment that Fenella Fudge the Fourth’s estranged (and strange) husband arrived upon the scene and Fenella’s fortitude left her, and she left the competition for better or for worse (as it was to be her case).

Felicity and Fortitude fought further.

The force used to retain their handholds on the trophy of tempestuous was fierce and no forgone conclusion. First Felicity, then Fortitude seemed to have the upper hand…

Until, finally, by a forefinger and a thumb the hard fought Battle of Fore Street (as it came to be known) was over.

Fortitude had claimed the day. She held aloft the last (and, now, very much reduced) cream horn of plenty in the shop.

It didn’t look much, all forlorn as it was.

‘Silence’ #SoCS @LindaGHill

‘Silence’ #SoCS @LindaGHill

See here for Linda’s instructions on #SoCS

Once. when I was a young, ambitious poet,

and I was writing cutting- edge poetry,

I got the word ‘Herring-bone’ stuck in my gullet;

which was kind of weird,

as I hadn’t been writing about fish at all,

neither Hake, Cod, Mackerel or Mullet,

and definitely not Herring.

Anyway, off to B & Q I went,

not A & E (a place I did not care to frequent)

to have the word removed.

They asked ‘Can I help?’

and I said ‘hhhhhhaaaaaaaagggggghhhhh!’

which they understood immediately,

as my… admitting to being mad.

They called on the Tannoy.

‘Please could Tony Chestnut come to the checkout,

to checkout an idiot,

who needs to be chucked out.’

then repeated it in Welsh,

or Cornish, or Greek;

I couldn’t really tell,

my pulse had become week.

So, after they laughed

at the fool on the ill;

they sent me to C & A

and I would be there still

queuing at the changing rooms

for a cubicle to free,

if a kindly passing Opthalmologist

hadn’t said that he could see me.

He looked me over,

up and down,

then announced to the world,

‘He’s an idiot, a clown!’

and told me to ‘take two aspirin

and get out of this town!’

Which I did,

Eventually the word ‘Herring-bone’

came out all by its self;

and that is why, people,

many a poet

is alone on a shelf.

‘The rest is silence.’

as Hamlet, sad,

said, after having a clear-out of family,

his friends, but, mostly,

his “dad!”

(who was actually his uncle,

but I had to get that rhyme in – I had to.)