Saturday, April 30, 2022

Full Term

30th April

 The prompt for this six sentence story is "term"

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30th April 2022


Full Term

Sally walked through the tape, avoiding cracked steps, and stopping to slip  plastic  coverings over her shoes, before  walking through the open front door of the Victorian terraced house.  Her eyes smarted, and she coughed as the strong smell of bleach unexpectedly caught her throat. Covering her face with her hands, she made her way towards the kitchen, relieved  to discover  that the all the windows were open. 

"All yours, Doctor,"  the policemen said, as he passed her in the corridor, "not a pretty site, I'm afraid." 

How spotless everything looks, she thinks, glancing round the kitchen,  someone cleaned up well.  Only the body disrupted the scene, the body of a woman in her early thirties, Sally guessed, her clothes tattered, covered in blood,  cuts to her face, arms and legs, and, shockingly, as far as she  could tell, pregnant and full term, too.

 As Sally fell  to her knees beside the  splayed limbs of the woman, gently feeling for any sign that baby might be alive, she thought of another time, not long ago when her own little Joe died before he could take a breath and realising that this little one was dead too, she could no longer hold back her tears, which now flowed softly down her cheeks . 

Friday, April 29, 2022

Finding Ten

 29th April

It's a while since I posted anything on the ten things of thankful bloghop. 
I have no valid excuse.
It's not that I haven't  had cause to give thanks.  
I have. 
I just haven't felt like thinking about it, and actually being thankful.
I suppose my attitude hasn't been one of counting my blessings, but rather seeing only the obstacles. 
And those obstacles, dear readers, are so minute in my life as to be totally embarrassing to talk about.
So I won't.
So I come here today and try to ponder on what I can be grateful for. 
I'll just look at the past week.

1. On Wednesday we came back from Cornwall after spending twelve days at our daughter's, the first week dog sitting while they cruised the Norway Fjords, with the children, the second week a few days with all of them when they got back.  
It was a time to treasure, a time that's precious. We don't get to see them as often as we'd like as they live 6 hours away. 
I know you guys in America don't think that's such a big deal, but for us English folk, on our small island, I can assure you it's a massive trek.
2. I loved some of the coastal walks and  breathed the sea air, the freedom of it, deep into my lungs. As I walked I thought again that I'd like to do the Camino de Santiago. I'd have to practice lots before though. I'm not fit enough for it yet. 
3. On one of the walks when the family came home I strolled along with my six year old grandaughter. What joy as we created poems together from all that we saw around us - caterpillars, yellow gorse bushes, trains, birds, the colours of the sea, the dunes, the sand, the sound of church bell,  and much more. When she got home, she started a new journal which she called Seaside Poems.  Amazing.
4. Sharing a book with my grandson before he went to bed. It makes me so happy that he loves books. This lively boy of three can sit for an hour or more listening to stories. I love that. 
5. Then, when the children were in bed, we spent some quality time with our daughter and her husband. A glass of wine and chatting together - just my cup of tea ( ah, no, it's wine xxx) To see the love they have for each other is quite humbling and brings a lump to my throat. 
6. When we got home and I looked out into the garden I was overjoyed to see the reds and blues and yellows of plants bursting into bloom. And my clematis coming back to life with it's beautiful purple flowers. What a lot had happened in the garden in that short twelve days. Of course, there is a lot of weeding to do too. But hey ...
7. I heard on the family grapevine how one of the children was helping a sibling out with a problem. How proud I am of my children.  It happens with the grandchildren too , and  even between the generations. It's more than I thought possible, yet maybe only the tip of the iceberg, for all I know. 
8. Hubby and I went in some galleries when we were away. I was blown away by the  exhibition in the Newlyn Gallery in Penzance, called Captured Beauty. Here's some blurb:

Black Voices Cornwall is an organisation that exists to enable Cornwall to become an actively anti-racist county. The ambition for Captured Beauty is for ethnically diverse visitors to feel seen through the works in this exhibition. It is also an opportunity for the white community to have an insight to how it feels to be a person of colour in the 21st century, and to come away from the exhibition with a determination to finally end racism.

We were told that 98.2% of Cornwall is white and one of the artists said she can go for more than three weeks without seeing a person like herself. How isolating is that. 
The exhibition was very humbling. 
It made me think, as St Josemaria said many years ago, "there's only one race, the human race...". If only we could remember that.
9. Another exhibition I enjoyed was called Simple Truths. Again, it made me think. Taking ordinary daily experiences and giving them a twist was clever. There was even some up to date pieces such as a shop assistant in a bakery carefully putting a loaf of bread in brown  paper . She is wearing a mask.  Only able to see her eyes, we're left with questions. Might she be smiling? 
I have to thank my lovely hubby for introducing me to the wonder of galleries. 
10. Finally, I'm thankful for this bloghop, which has encouraged me to find things to be thankful for and has got me writing.