satsuma

the man across the aisle wore the tallit beneath his jacket
I noticed as he stood up and I saw the knotted fringe.
I hold Jewishness in a curious kind of awe
so many rules to govern the simplest things in life.
he munched hungrily on a tuna sandwich
the noise of his eating and snuffled breath reverberating in the 'quiet' coach
then peeled a satsuma and the sharp citrus tang tickled my nostrils.
I awoke from a fitful sleep as we reached Euston
to see him folded uncomfortably into the tiny space
his knees tucked up against the seat in front.
it seems there was no rule pertaining to that.

Corsica

Dear Agnes
Thank you so much for popping in to water the aspidistra for me this week, George was annoyed at himself for forgetting about it before we left. The trip has been quite an experience. It is so hot I am wilting, even in the shade. George bought a straw hat which looks utterly ridiculous but he seems to think it gives him a continental air. My new sandals have rubbed a blister on my little toe but I am hobbling on regardless. I do hope you've got that problem with the porch light sorted out.
With love,
Bernice

Isle of Man

Dear Agnes,
The crossing was fine, considering. I walked George three times round the deck to ward off the seasickness; I'm a seasoned traveller as you know but he did complain for quite a while and then we settled down in the restaurant to share a bacon butty. I must say it felt a bit like going abroad but once we got here it was just like England. I let George have kippers for breakfast yesterday morning and then wished I hadn't, his breath smelt something awful, so today we kept to cornflakes. 
Wishing you were here.
With love,
Bernice

Dear Agnes

Dear Agnes
We are in Torbay for the week, recommended by the doctor, for George to get some sea air. It has been so blustery and the poor palm trees on the front have been battered almost to death. My scarf blew off, you know, that lovely mauve silk one that mother gave me her last Christmas, and we chased it right down onto the sand, where it landed in the sea, fortunately the tide was incoming at the time. I hope Bernard is feeling better and not keeping you up at night like the last time.
With love
Bernice


(Returning to 100 Words in preparation for NaNoWriMo. Inspired by a postcard at work, just the name and the place it had come from and decided to do a series of 'postcard' messages.)

Letters

all we had
thoughts and desires entrusted to paper
consumed, sniffed, caressed, secreted
the words less important 
than the piece of paper
mundanities savoured with anticipation
'how was work'
'I thought of you'

now boxed and bound
quelled, extinguished
passion tempered by reality
but kept
so that in my dotage 
I might relive the way it felt
to be in love


(Linking back to The Poetry Jam where the theme is 'Letters'. Visit for more contributions.)

Fridge poetry

The trouble with magnetic fridge poetry sets is that the choice of vocabulary almost forces you to write in a certain way. Some words leap out at you (like 'breast' and 'chocolate') and just demand to be used. And some have obviously been included to complement each other. Some words are annoying in their absence. So I have a go at writing 100 words ... and this is what I come up with:

Creature left me the following message in the middle of the night:
So this morning while my tea brewed it became this, by a process of mere word substitution, still 100 words:

strange beings

They came out of the mist, unsteadily, the tufts of grass and uneven ground was difficult for them to navigate and their ungainly stride made a faintly ridiculous sight. Their intent was unclear but it was argued amongst the professional observers that it was plain they carried no obvious weaponry. The more wary advised a cautious approach with defensive preparations kept in close reserve. Hysteria was inevitable however, one faction rushing for the hills, the other reaching for their guns.

It was assumed they must communicate by some kind of telepathic method, there was no obvious oral or any other sensory communicating organ. Their limbs were stiff and indicated a preference for some kind of powered movement. They appeared superficially homogenous but on closer inspection the subtle differences in their surface markings demonstrated an individuality comparable to humans.

The ship that hovered above bore a distinct resemblance to a welsh dresser, the rows of willow patterned plates rotating slowly and emitting a quiet hum. The blanket of white had concealed the means by which they had descended to the surface. We waited. They waited. It seemed a standoff was developing, neither wishing to make the first move for fear it be a faux pas.

Then an unassuming volunteer stepped forward. She seemed to have some instinct about the strange beings and they reciprocated, parting awkwardly to gather her into their fold. She looked back once and was gone.

(Linking back to Magpie Tales 91. Finding myself a little surreal today. My first thought on seeing the image was the scene at the end of Close Encounters where the bloke goes up into the space ship surrounded by all those weird little aliens ... go figure.)