We all need to refresh our writing Muse, so this past Thanksgiving long weekend, I enjoyed two day road trips to Miquelon Lake Provincial Park. The first was on Saturday and then again on Monday. Both trips were a discovery of back roads and nature. It was chilly and breezy but glorious colours of the season were enjoyed.
There was plenty of wildfowl, a friendly squirrel, a couple of muskrats and evidence of a busy beaver too.
Although, I did some research for my detective book series and compiled a file folder of research, I did not write. We all need downtime.
However, I may write a short story on the unusual sight of a beaver lodge with a satellite dish! It’s too good not to.
Inspiration does come from anywhere and everywhere.
Today’s writing prompt is a view of a pathway. What story or poem does it inspire in you?
I wrote this response for it. I hope you enjoy it.
“What’s down there, Mummy?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart. Shall we go and look?”
“Yeh, an adventure – follow me into the jungle. I’ll protect you.”
The irregular shaped stepping stones draw us into the unknown depths of his imagination. With a stick for a sword, he leads the way. He is a Commander and fearless leader of an army, searching out the enemy.
It feels pleasant to be under the shade of the tree’s canopy, out of the hot sun. As I watch Sebastian dart back and forth taking cover behind tree trucks, my heart warms. He is the miracle I never thought would be mine. So many years of trying to get pregnant and then the indignity of numerous medical tests had made life so difficult. Gerald tried so hard to comfort me, and accompanied me to all my appointments and endured tests of his own. It was only when I caught him unawares on that fateful evening, that I knew I would have to stop pressuring him to carry on. The total despair in his voice; as he had spoken to his mother; had chilled me to the bone. He was blaming himself and truly believing I would leave him or worse. I had crept away unnoticed and walked for hours along this very path, deciding our future. My decision made, I surprised Gerald with a candle lit dinner the very next evening and announced.
“I cannot struggle any more, Gerald, let’s enjoy life again. Put all this behind us.”
“Are you sure, Claudia? You have so wanted a child.”
“Yes, I’m very sure. It’s obviously not meant to be.”
I had to ‘eat my words’ three months later, when my stomach upset was identified as ‘morning sickness.’ Our specialist was not surprised. He told us it was quite common for women to conceive once the stress was absent.
“Mummy, come on. Keep up.”
“I’m coming, Commander. Have you found the enemy yet?”
I wrote a response to this prompt a while ago and thought it was a good one to share. Why don’t you have a go?
The scenery was exceptional, the breeze cooling our bodies as the summer sun beat down. An over growth path seemed the answer to finding a private place to picnic, away from the other hikers. Brushing aside the tall grasses and weeds, we found a larger track making our trek easier. A shape soon appeared ahead and as we approached it became apparent it was a vehicle. “A strange place to find a car!” “Let’s take a look, possibly dumped here.” The vehicle’s metal was sun bleached and rusted with saplings and weeds populating its interior as well as hugging its sides. The front of the vehicle smashed into a large boulder. “What is that?” “Oh my God, no that’s not a vehicle dump. Come back don’t touch anything. Those are skeletons in the front seats.”
Two hours later we are sitting on the cliff trail watching numerous police and emergency personnel talking, photographing and extracting the skeletons. A detective approaches us. “Sorry to keep you so long, we wanted to make sure we had all the details correct. From the impact injuries apparent on the rib cages and heads of the skeletons it was an accident. As to the identities we can only wait on the DNA results. We did find a message scratched on the console though. “May we ask what it said?” “I don’t think it will matter if you know. The message read – we have no hope, Bob can’t move and I am pinned in. Send love to Clara and Tom. Love Mum XX. “Oh how dreadful those poor souls.”