Sign of the Times

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Photo and Fiction: © Steve Lakey 2014

 

Jean and Hillary always look forward to their regular visits to exclusive contemporary art galleries. They’ve been to fifteen so far this year. Here they go again!

Alain, their uniformed French chauffeur, helped them out of the silver Rolls Royce Corniche, and passed them their respective walking frames and white laced gloves. He stood back as they ‘raced’ for the entrance. Everything between these two appeared to be a competition. Alain followed behind them at a safe distance, discreetly carrying the bags. There was never a dull moment with the ‘Spinster Sisters’.

Naturally, they walked around the gallery in opposite directions. Alain tactfully sat down midway between them and opened his sandwiches. He wouldn’t be needed just yet.

At the far end of the room, the sisters met, coming from opposite directions. Alain noticed them both staring at the same exhibit. After they’d studied it for twenty minutes, he knew he would soon be required. He smiled to himself, wondering how anybody would pay good money for contemporary art. Much of it looked like junk!

Jean slowly shook her head and spoke at the nearest person, who happened to be the security guard. “Caution – Wet paint! The inherent message is a sad indictment of today’s authoritarian style of government. The Nanny state in action. A crude attempt to modify behaviour using subliminal messaging.”

Hillary typically saw life differently to her older sibling. “Oh, no. Clearly, it’s representative of the caring society, designed to protect the welfare of the most vulnerable. A throwback, to a gentler, kinder age.”

The guard tried to hide a smirk, and said nothing.

The one thing the sisters both agreed on, was that this exhibit wasn’t worth two million of their English pounds. How could they ever afford it? At this point, both ladies burst into tears, and attempted to console each other.

Alain quickly appeared and presented the ladies with their handbags. They both dabbed each others eyes with tissues. But the sobbing turned to wails, as Jean dropped her bag, scattering the contents far and wide.

The nearby security guard was only happy to help, and had all the contents back inside within a minute. Unfortunately, this was more than enough time (52 seconds would have been enough) for Alain (actually Alan, from Manchester) to un-attach the exhibit, slide it into a large holdall, and leg-it out of the entrance.

Jean and Hillary weren’t far behind him, ditching their gloves and stolen walking frames at the door.

The Spinster Sisters had struck again!

 

The photo and story were prompted by Pixel Prose Challenge, September 27th 2014, hosted by Amanda Lakey at UniqueArtChic.com.

For more details, click the logo.

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To view the other entries in this challenge, click the blue frog.

Pixel Prose Challenge: Tracking Back

IMG_0344 Photo: © Walktheselftalk.com 2014

Brian ‘Buzz’ Oldring, Leader of the Coningshall Parish Council, wasn’t a happy man. Their local rival town, Scarsbury, was steaming ahead economically.

Despite Coningshall benefiting from having a booming Ghost Walk, Scarsbury’s new civic amenities put them at the top of the pecking order. Something needed to be done! A few seconds after those thoughts came to Buzz, the Red Telephone rang.
The Red phone was a specially designed communication interface between himself and recently deceased local solicitor, Peter Kipper.

Peter’s voice came through loud and clear. “As you know, Buzz, I represent the Coninsgshall deceased community. Several of my clients are unhappy at Scarsbury financially outperforming us. We need to get things back on track, so to speak.”
“I’m all ears, Mr Kipper!”
“I’m forbidden by Deceased Person Regulations from revealing too much. All I can tell you is, you need to spend some time on the ‘wrong’ side of the tracks. Get your man, Kanye, to Conginshall Railway Station!”

Their once-abandoned station had recently been renovated in a retro style, and a few miles of track installed to run old diesel and steam trains out into the countryside. Unfortunately, the tourists weren’t exactly flocking there. Kanye Bell-Eaves, the local Psychic Investigator, had long suspected there was something ‘not quite right’ about the area.

The next day. Kanye bought a ticket and joined a few tourists on an almost empty train. A man who looked a little out of place was Scarsbury Council Treasurer, George Sterling, carrying a heavy briefcase, with a chain attached to his wrist.
As they reached the only destination on the line, the quaint village station at Little Haven, Kanye’s iPhone Paranormal Activity App started flashing crazily, just before his data and phone signal went dead.

The train pulled into the station and everyone dispersed onto the platform. No-one seemed to want to visit the quaint picture-postcard village that was just a short walk down Old Memory Lane. It was almost as if it wasn’t there. Instead, they milled around the Little Haven Station and Museum Complex, before taking the train back to Coningshall.

Not George Sterling. He was heading down the lane with a purpose. Kanye discreetly followed him from a distance. George looked around nervously before heading into the village Bank. Kanye peered through the window and saw George passing over bundles of notes from his case to the cashier.

Kanye took a walk around the village. The detail they had taken, to recreate the late 1960’s was incredible – the cars, the fashions, even the prices! And yet the place was almost deserted. According to the newspapers, it was 1968. There were headlines announcing Robert Kennedy’s funeral, and a story about the Vietnam War.
But wait a minute. Kanye was getting a funny feeling about this. It all seemed too real. What does George Sterling know about it? And what if it really is 1968 here? If you invest money now, how much do you make on it 46 years later! Well done George. No wonder Scarsdale was doing so well.

1968. That explains the lack of mobile phone coverage. There won’t be any for decades!

Just then, George walked by with his briefcase stuffed with Champagne bottles. Kanye grabbed his arm. “Right, George. Tell me everything! I think Buzz Oldring might have an offer for you…”

So, when they got back to Coningshall, Buzz heard the full story. George had walked into Little Haven by chance and realised that the train must travel through a time portal that takes you back to the past! It seems only a few people are sensitive enough to see the village at all.

Months ago, George had found boxes of old-style pound notes in the Scarsbury Council Vault. No longer legal tender. And nobody seemed to know they were there. Using some creative accounting, he re-invested the cash and shared the profits with the council. George was making good money for himself and his employer, but never revealed his big secret. Why would he?

Buzz allowed George to name his own terms, and George was happy to sign up as the next leader of Coningshall Parish Council. On a very generous salary, with extras.
And what of poor old Scarsbury Council? Last I heard, they were having to borrow money from Coningshall. At “special” interest rates of course.

Peter Kipper and his clients were very satisfied indeed.

 

The photo and story were prompted by Pixel Prose Challenge, hosted by Amanda Lakey at www.UniqueArtChic.com

Click the logo for more details.

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For other entries to this challenge, click the Blue Frog!

Pixel Prose Challenge:That’s the Spirit!

IMG_0824Photo: ©Walktheselftalk.com 2014

The once-popular Coningshall Ghost Walk was slowly dying a death. It felt like the whole village was slipping away with it. But what was to be done?

Every Saturday night for a year, eccentric Psychic Researcher Kanye Bell-Eaves, had lead an ever-growing band of followers around the village, ending at the churchyard. His well-crafted spooky tales were no match for the main attraction – strange noises and ghostly apparitions from the graveyard, as the church clock chimed the Midnight hour.

Every weekend, the local guest houses were full to overflowing, and the two village shops were doing very nicely, thank you very much. One or two visitors had even moved into the area. But then it all started to go wrong.

Without warning, the noises and apparitions stopped.

Kanye worked on his theatrical presentation, but as the numbers dwindled, everyone could see that his heart just wasn’t in it anymore. A Ghost Walk without ghosts? Who needs it? A few more weeks like this and no one would be attending. He’d be finished!

Local Parish Councillor and owner of the Electrical Store, Brian ‘Buzz’ Oldring, was baffled. After all, he was the one who had seen potential for the village in the Ghost Walk. And he supplied the electrical equipment that should be producing the ghostly effects. But nothing seemed to work anymore. He tested the batteries, and even replaced the whole kit. It all worked fine, until he put it in the graveyard.

Buzz hadn’t slept well for some time. He’d just heard the church clock strike midnight, when his bedroom lights started flashing on and off. “Must be that new dimmer switch I fitted!” said Buzz out loud. More to reassure himself than anything.

Then the lights went off and a ghostly figure hovered at his upstairs window! The figure gestured him over! Trembling, Buzz turned on his iPhone Candle app and went to investigate. Well, if it wasn’t the recently deceased local lawyer, Peter Kipper!

“Seems that you’re in a bind, Buzz. My clients feel they’re being misrepresented by these Ghost Walks, and not receiving their due.”
“Y-your clients?” stammered Buzz.
“The ‘Graveyard Residents Association’! Unless things change, your electrical equipment will not work again, I assure you.”
“What sort of changes?” Buzz’s iCandle had gone out, but for some reason, he was feeling a little calmer now.
Kipper gestured towards the churchyard. “Look at the state of the graves. Some of my clients have been there for centuries, and no one seems to care about them anymore, unless they’re making a fast buck!”
“So what’s you’re proposal, Mr Kipper?”
“My clients are happy for the Ghost Walks to continue, and will even provide all noises and apparitions. For ten percent of the profits! A very reasonable offer, in my opinion.”
“And what will they do with the ten percent?”
“They would like the ten percent to be spent on maintenance of the graveyard. Make it somewhere that you’d be happy to spend your final years, as it were. Do we have a deal?”
“I’ll have to okay it with Kanye, but I don’t see him objecting. I won’t mention this to the Parish Council. It might ruffle a few feathers!”

And so it was, that the Ghost Walks became more popular than ever. If anything, the spooky effects seemed even more real. And the Coningshall churchyard became the pride of a prosperous village.

Kanye thought ten percent seemed a fair price to pay.

 

Story and photo are prompted by the Pixel Prose Challenge, hosted by Amanda Lakey at www.UniqueArtChic.com.

Click the logo for more details.

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To view the other posts in this challenge, click the blue frog!

Pixel Prose Challenge: Give a Man a Fish…

IMG_1265 Photo: Ajuy, Fuerteventura 2014.

LOCAL FISHERMAN BETWEEN ROQUE AND A HARD PLACE

Self employed fisherman José Roque (49) has become a local celebrity in the Canary Islands. The little seaside town of Ajuy, Fuerteventura has seen tourists flocking to see the lifetime resident, who has apparently been turned to stone as a result of a misunderstanding with a mythological Roman god.

A passer-by said “You’ve gotta feel sorry for the guy, being like that. Even the fish looks gutted.”

Gravel-voiced Señor Roque told reporter Sandy Beach, “I’d just landed a big catch and unloaded my boat then this weird guy comes out of the water driving a 2 horsepower jet ski. He’s got a long beard, and carrying a spear gun. I thought he was from the Neptune Diving School. And then he said wanted half my catch as a tribute.”
“I’m guessing, José say no way?”
“Too true. It turns out he was the real Neptune, and then he turned me to stone. I’ve got a lump in my throat, just talking about it”
“How could you have mythed it, right? I’m guessing that you’d Sea things differently if you had the chance again?”
“Oh no, things have worked out okay. I’ve sold the boat and bought the Neptune Fish Bar. With all the tourists here, the place is really rocking!”

A spokesman for Neptune said that he wasn’t a bad Deity, he’d just had a bad day. He would be happy to return José to normal, or send him a signed photo.

 

Photo taken with iPhone 4S. Story and photo for the Pixel Prose Challenge, hosted by Amanda Lakey at www.UniqueArtChic.com. Click the logo for more details.

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 To view other entries in the Challenge, click the blue frog.

Pixel Prose Challenge: Time and Again

IMG_0327Photo: Matlock Bath, Derbyshire, UK. 2014.

It wasn’t the first time I’d visited Matlock Bath, the quaint Victorian Spa town in Derbyshire. But I’d never noticed this particular fountain, with its magical, out-of-time feel. I sat on a park bench and took in the atmosphere.

I’d lost track of how long I’d been sitting there, when a strange thought came to me. Throw a silver coin in to the fountain. And make a wish!

I wanted Time to stand still and preserve this perfect moment. My gleaming 2014 coin dropped into the clear water without a splash. I watched it float slowly down to the bottom of the pool. It joined a selection of other coins already in there.

One of the coins looked pretty old and worn. I knelt down and fished out a large Penny. It showed the profiled head of King George V and was dated 1914.

As I gripped the coin, the sun clouded over and the temperature dropped to an icy chill. A thick mist descended. When it cleared, the fountain appeared the same, but the park looked somehow…different.

A young couple strolled towards me, arm-in-arm. A soldier in a First World War uniform and a lady with a parasol! They could have been attending one of the local Historical Themed weekends that seem so popular now. But something told me they weren’t. As if confirmation was needed, where the park’s War Memorial had stood, there was now just neatly trimmed grass.

I looked down at my 1914 Penny, now looking shiny and new!

The young couple were eyeing me strangely, as if I was the odd one out. Of course! Here, or rather Now, I was. My jeans, and Beatles t-shirt had quickly got me noticed.

Without thinking, I dropped the coin back into the fountain. The water seemed to reach out and pull it back in. Fishing out my original silver coin, I soon felt relief as the thick mist swallowed me up.

Sunshine returned, and I was back. The young couple had gone. I wondered if the Soldier’s name was on the War Memorial. I hoped not.

Sitting down on the bench again, I tried to collect my thoughts. Had I just wasted a golden opportunity? I needed to go back. This was the opportunity of a lifetime – or many lifetimes.

I don’t know how long I Iooked for the coin that I had just dropped into the water. Or did that happen a century ago? Either way, it wasn’t to be found. And there were no more old coins in that fountain! I had literally thrown it all away.

But then I had an idea…

I ran through the park towards home and changed into my grey work suit. OK, styles change, but hopefully a suit won’t stand out too much. Then I called into the Antiques shop, the one that sells handfuls of old, battered pennies that no one uses these days. Well, I had a use for them! I collected an equal supply of 2014 coins from the bank. Mustn’t forget those.

I sat on the park bench and arranged them in date order. Quite a few years were missing, but I had about twenty years between 1901-1953 covered. Where to start?

After scattering a number of 2014 coins around, inside the fountain, I selected an old coin, and put the rest back into my pockets.

I carefully dropped the battered old coin into the water and impatiently waited for a few minutes for the fountain to work its magic. I took out the coin and gripped it tightly. The mist fell…

 

I took this photo recently, and edited it with Photo Toaster. This story was written for Pixel Prose Challenge, hosted by Amanda Lakey, at

www.Unique Art Chic.Com

Click the logo for more details.

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To view the other posts in this challenge, click the blue frog!