Pappa Gio and The Pizza Capers... mUSE wARS rEVIVAL eDITION - # 2

Part I: The present.
Her face pressed hard against the warm window of the pizza place as the flow of saliva flooded her mouth with a gush. Sal glanced around, sure everyone passing could see the river of drool as it swept past her glands. A gloved hand quickly wiped the imagined overflow from her chin, but as she glanced down to the pristine white there was no trace of moisture. Not a drop nor a mark.

Pizza was her weakness, the one food she classed as pure comfort. Sal felt it linked back to her Grandpa Sol and their favourite story, Gio's Pizza. It was tradition in the Jones household to read it every night the grandchildren came to stay. As one of fourteen, and the only one of the grandchildren to live with Grandpa Sol and Grandma Jo, it meant Sal heard the story at least twice a week for many of her formative years. Grandpa Sol even looked like Gio Fabrizza.

One of the many, hers was merely a face in the crowd of children of their children. But whilst the story was shared amongst the fourteen of them, the recipe at the back and the special nights cooking pizza in the old timber-burning oven were her's and Sol's alone. A treat only they shared, a special bond. Private. Those were the nights Grandma Jo was at her prayer meeting, and if she ever wondered about the lingering odour of oregano, cheese and garlic it was never mentioned. Not once in the eight years Sal lived in their home.

Pizza remained her solace today but her widening waistline and shrinking wallet meant it was a rare indulgence. Something to be enjoyed only on the scarce special occasion when a celebration was warranted. Sal hadn't had pizza in over a year.

She allowed herself one last lingering look before turning away, forcing the urges back, dampening the craving down. Fighting her need. She walked away, a solitary, slouched figure lost in memories. 

Part II: The past.
She crammed the last glorious piece of pizza into her already overfilled mouth. The smell saturated her senses, the taste provoked orgasms of pleasure all through her body, but all the while the protesting crackle of flames reminded her she needed to leave before it was too late. She slowly licked the grease from her fingers.

Sal allowed herself one last lingering glance around what was her home. The place she had visited as a child with her mother, the house she was welcomed into after her mother's suicide, the rooms that had witnessed the pizza nights, her special nights with Grandpa Sol.

"His pizzas are fantastic

There's none that can compare

If you have the luck to try one

You'll never want to share!"

Sal was sick of sharing. So tired of the others crowding her, coming and going as they pleased, only staying for a little, enough to disrupt her life, then heading on back to their mothers and fathers and nice, cosy, safe lives. 

Her special nights with Sol had lost their lustre. Appeal had shrunk as she hit her teenage years and puberty beckoned. Needs changed.

Sal wiped her greasy fingers on Grandma Jo's apron before picking up her backpack. It was sad to think all her worldly goods fitted snugly into the one bag, fourteen years of life crammed into the canvas covers.

The flames began to crackle louder as if protesting her departure, alone in their complaint. Not another sound nor argument heard.

The roar of the fire prompted her to say her farewells. "Night Grandpa Sol, night Grandma Jo."

No more special pizza nights with Grandpa Sol, this was the last.    
Sal stepped over the bloody bodies of her grandparents, glancing down at Grandpa Sol's favourite pizza knife still embedded in his back.  No more was she his special girl, no more would he lovingly caress her as he had whilst they waited for the pizza to cook. Never again would he murmer she was his sexy little secret girl.     She hadn't heard those words for a while now.  
She had sensed Grandpa Sol's revulsion when he looked at her naked, her budding breasts, her developing curves. He was going to leave her even though he had promised not to. He had promised many things over the years, none he had delivered.

As she pulled the door shut the sounds of burning quietened. Sal walked away without a backward glance, not even as the house erupted in flaming splendour.

Muse Wars - The Remix - Part 2

Yes, once again Lori has posted Muse Wars.

As soon as I set my eyes on this photo I knew the temptation was too great - I had to post my Blog This winning entry from many moons ago. THIS one.

I think I will be back to post a new entry, I hope I will anyway... but this month is crammed full of social committments so I will make no promises.

But you should join in. Go on, have a go!

 

Oh, and please, do comment. It is pretty disappointing when the traffic is high but the comments are low. Especially when it is others who have joined in and that I always comment on myself. M'kay?

 

mUSE wARS rEVIVAL eDITION # 1 - The Watcher

He sat, hidden deep within the undergrowth. Not a breath nor hint of movement to give him away. Waiting, watching.

He knew she would be back. He was patient. It did not matter how long she took, or how cold it was, he would wait. She was worth it. Patience is a virtue his mother always said. She also said he was not as useless as he looked, or as stupid as he appeared. Her last words to him were along the lines of manning up and growing some balls. He wished she could see him now. She would have to eat those words if she could see him now.

The quiet made his head hurt, but it was better than the voices jabbering in his ear as they sometimes did. Quiet could be good, it helped him focus, leave the doubts of his duty, nay worthiness, behind. Away. Not here. Not now.

He allowed himself a moment to look around. The ruins suited this task, were appropriate for the job at hand. Old, deserted, desecrated, forlorn. Forgotten. Forsaken. And isolated. No random passersby, no unexpected witnesses to interfere in the operation. No messiness to clean up or unintended victims to remove. Messiness was terribly unpleasant.

The evening breeze briefly rustled the trees around him, lingering slightly to tease his short hair and brush the leaves across his face in a brief caress. He tentatively stretched his legs, careful not to breach his cover but aware that circulation must be maintained for swift movement the moment it was required.

A noise brought his attention back to the broken walls, something new, something not belonging. Her. He froze, hidden deep within the leafy green, invisible.

She swiftly entered his line of vision, caution forgotten as she seemed to assume this place was safe. Isolated, forgotten, a secret site not known to others. A haven from the outside world. A haven that had been breached, though she was blissfully unaware of the intruder. She dropped the limp satchel from her shoulder, sighed, stretched, pushing her perfect breasts taught against the tight shirt she wore.

He watched, relishing the display. Crouching, still, silent, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. His moment. The voices awoke breaking the solitude, intruding on this, his moment. He hated the voices, the conflict they aroused...

"Move in, get her."
"Hold, be patient."
"Don't let her get away."
"Go, go GO!"

Unaware, she bent and picked the fragrant stalks, humming some pretty tune under her breath, she tucked them into her bag. Slowly, methodically, the bag filled. Slowly, tantalisingly, she came closer and closer to his hiding place, her bag now overflowing with the perfumed plants.

"GO,GO, GO!"

He leapt from the bushes, grabbing, twisting her arms to hold, to lock her within his steely embrace.

Her scream echoed uselessly around the ruins. This place had been chosen with care, there was no help, there was no hope. Her voice quietened, then died.

The voices were here.

"Jacqui Tremont you are under arrest for the cultivation and sale of marijuana. You do not have to say anything, but anything you say may be taken down and used against you in a court of law..."

Muse Wars - The Remix - Part 1

Once upon a time there were three little girls who went to the police academy... whoops, sorry. Channelling Charlie's Angels for a minute there.

But once upon a time there were a group of bloggers who participated in a linky of short story posts. Created by Melissa, it was coined "Muse Wars" by moi, yes Madmother copyright peoples, and after 7 or 8 runs it fizzled into the either. Attempted revivals by MM failed a couple of times and then at a blog conference a discussion with the lovely Lori of RRSAHM has resulted in another run.

The gist is this:

* See photo

* Write story (up to 1000 words)

* Linke before it closes on July 27th.

Not sure if Lori is going to continue with the old routine of first to link gets to post and host next photo/linky?

Photo for revival Muse Wars #1:

Will post this then add linky in later for those who wish to join.

Happy writing!

Muse Wars - The Memories.

Lori @ RRSAHM has taken me back in time to a happier world. A group of us joined together in creative writing challenges. Muse Wars. The before, as she aptly calls it. Before I lost Wise Woman, before her own personal tragedy with the loss of Tony, before the pain of the recent.

The early, 2010, first run days were far more successful than my later attempts to revive the group. And nowadays, the Write on Wednesday group has superseded our small, intimate bunch of compatriots.

But, here, on a day where distractions call me away from the pain of the now, I give you Muse Wars:

2010:
Challenge 1: Walking Away
Challenge 2: Look Not In My Eyes For Fear
Challenge 3: Seasons of Love
Challenge 4: The Things We Do For Love
Challenge 5: Storm in a B Cup
Challenge 6: The Sunset
Challenge 7: Beam Me Up Scotty
2011:
Challenge 1: Eyes of a Gypsy, Soul of a Wife
 
Miscellaneous: Many Coloured Love (not completed)
 
So, if you are up for some light, short story reading and relaxation - go for it.
 
I miss Muse Wars, *sigh*. I miss a lot of things, especially the people who are gone.
 

Muse Wars 2011 - Challenge 2

Originally started by Melissa @ The Things I'd Tell You, the Muse Wars continued through eight challenges and then faded into oblivion. I did attempt to kick start it again last year, but and again this year. The Challenge #1 is here. Now closed.

Rules:
Open to all and sundry, you need to link below in comments.
First to list sets next challenge and chooses new picture..
Anyone can join in, you just need to write a story as your interpretation of the photo in 500 - 1000 words.
Can be of any genre - let your mind fly free.
You can pass listing on to next on list but MUST be passed within 24 hours of previous challenge closing.
Next challenge must be set within seven days of completion of previous challenge.

You have 14 days to complete.

Oh, and I have not worked out a new linky tool. Post your entry in my comments and I'll edit this post to show each link. If there are any. Okay?

Muse Wars 2011

Challenge 2

Write your hearts out! Ready, set, GO!

Muse Wars 2011 Is Off and Running!

Go here to find entry links. Post your entry in a comment if you wish to join in, is open to all and all in good fun.

FYBF Friday - And The God of Obstetrics

Howdy all! Welcome to Flog Yo Blog Friday and some false bonhomie. Sick? Yes, I am still quite ill, thanks for asking, but am pushing through determined to be as pert and perky as a pair of cheerleader's tits (really gotta stop watching Hellcats). Now firstly, some housekeeping...

Is ANY one going to enter Muse Wars? It ends tonight and I've not had one entry from any of you! If I can write one when this damn sick then some of you surely could make the effort? Hmmmm? Oh, and I'm not posting mine first 'cause I'm sick and I'm allowed to be temperamental. Did I mention I'M SICK?

Okay, now back to this post. Reading a well know parenting website triggered thoughts of my wonderful OB. The MAGNIFICENT Prof B. Now Prof B was not the first OB I was referred to, oh no. Settle back cause I'm about to tell you a tale of incredible luck, horror and happy endings.

The Birth of Boy 1

I didn't plan on becoming pregnant, no sirree. In fact when it was confirmed by a medical centre doctor close to my current place of work, I came home and said to Big Boy "I don't wanna do this" *sob*. Selfish, I know. We had only been married six months, I was working under contract to a fantastic company; a really fun, social place to be employed. Hell, they even had their own bar in the company boardroom and it was open to all!

But pregnant I was, and I knew as soon as my current agreement ran out it would not be renewed. The centre GP gave me a referral to joe blow OB. I had NO IDEA about OB's, I'd never had a need to know.

So, being me, and a talker, I ring one of my BFF's. Yes, to bemoan my fate and the timing of it all. I should have been grateful, so many struggle to conceive. I was 33 years old, madly in love with my husband, it should have been the best moment of my life. Certainly not one of my finer ones, anyway. But I cannot change the truth, and I will not lie to make myself appear better than I really was.

But back to the phone call. My BFF asked me about the obstetrician I was going to see. I told her his name. Rang no bells. She then went on to tell me of this incredible specialist one of her friends had been to. He dealt with the most dire of situations, worked miracles, saved lives. I protested that mine was just the old garden variety pregnancy and I probably would be wasting his precious time, what with him being the Gandhi of OB's...

She then told me her friend had thought that too, but her birth turned into a not so run-of-the-mill kind, and he helped her and her child where someone else may not have been able to. Bit freaky, looking back now.

So I took her advice, had my own GP give me a referral and toddled off to my first appointment. I won't bore you with the months of visits and blow by blow descriptions of our conversations, but I will tell you he was friendly and articulate and we clicked (yeah, ah Prof - I still remember the chat we had a bout the girl with no vagina - ewwww). He had been involved in ground-breaking work, had pioneered many new procedures, worked in Harley Street obstetrics. Yep  - bloody good at what he did.

And so we come to my D-day. Over the months of my pregnancy I had met many women in the waiting room of his clinic. Some of them were facing the fight of their lives, some of them were facing the tragedy of their lives, some of them were back after facing both with Prof B helping them to find a new joy in their lives. I still felt like a fraud taking up this man's valuable, LIMITED time. Even with high blood pressure from 30 weeks (mine, not pre-ec), all seemed a little trivial for a man such as he to be dealing with.

My BP went north when I was a few days over. I was admitted to hospital to bring it to a more reasonable level, which they did. And induced. Twice. Boy 1 was posterior so I had that lovely back labour as well as front. Want me to spell it out? Well, not only did that added induction throw me straight into second stage labour, but there was no gap between contractions. My uterus was playing ricochet - back spasms, front spasms, back spasms, front spasms. Oh - and do not have our husband bring in pizza the night before you are induced - m'kay? Just sayin'.

Finally, after 12 hours of this they allowed me down to the labour wards and I had a wonderful, pain-removing, epidural. Slept. Big Boy and by this time BFF were with me. A few hours later the real show began. And the wheels fall off.

Monitors galore, we begin to push. Nothing. Attempted forceps. Nothing. Baby distressed, my BP heading steadily up again, monitors start making scary noises. Prof looks to me with those calm brown eyes and goes emergency caesar? I nod. Have I mentioned I'm very good under pressure? Well, I am. So is he.

In comes anaesthesiologist to top up epi to spinal block, off we go to theatre. Big Boy hurriedly dons surgical scrubs. BFF very relieved to be told no. Poor woman with planned c-section pulled out to make way for not very good at this Madmother. And Prof B grabs his clinic partner as he starts to exit, "think we may need you mate."

Now the fun begins. Turns out Boy 1 is lodged in my smallish pelvis like a cork in a bottle. We find out later this was the case for probably his last trimester. And because of attempted vaginal birth he is lodged even harder. They have a screen up, my BP is now doing weird stuff and I am giddy and feeling ill. Over the screen I can see the blood splattering around the room as my body is lifted up off the table again and again as they try and dislodge Boy 1. Big Boy is looking more and more terrified. I remember hearing the Prof say, "This baby has to come out right now!" I cannot see over the screen but my husband can. He is crying. "It's okay" I tell him, "Prof B is the best, it'll be all right."

They remove my son in silence, he is rushed over to the paed. I do not know it at the time but he is black. Why they call it a blue baby, I do not know for he is as dark as midnight. And an apgar of 4.

He cries. They bring him over. After his 5 minute apgar is 9. Time has no meaning for me. My husband is still crying. They send him with his son as they clean me up, stitch me up and send me off to recovery. BP has stabilised, but still high.

There is more detail I could add, and other things that arise over the weeks, but it is not necessary to add them for this post.

I know I nearly died, I know they very nearly lost my son.

It didn't hit home until my six week check up. I love being a mum and bounced into the clinic, make up on, hair done, happy bub in arms. I *bump* into the partner. Beam "remember me? You helped Prof B with my emergency c-section 6 weeks ago."

He looks. Does a double take. "Oh yes, I remember you... you have gone down in the annals of this practice as the most high risk and near death procedure we have ever done."

Think I went a little pale at that. But as Prof said afterwards: "And look at you both today, so near misses don't count."

Needless to say Boy 2 was a planned caesar. Yes, with Prof B. Ran like clockwork. What a man!

One thing I will add is one more piece of Prof B advice. He once told me, "you can't live your life looking backwards otherwise you'd fall over all the future obstacles." So true.


Oh, and my BFF? When she had her first child before I had Boy 2, she used Prof B. And when things required her to go for a c-section, she was calm and well prepared. After all she'd sat through the horror of my experience and seen how well Prof B handled everything, she knew she had nothing to fear. All good.

Think I might send him a photo of my boys.

Disqus, Envy and a Little Procrastination...

Sitting here just a little envious this morning. The amazing Mrs Woog of Woogsworld fame (or is that infamy?) is off to lunch with Google! Yes, you read it right  - GOOGLE! You really know you've reached the pinacle of all blogicleness when Google want to wine and dine your arse! So I told her I wanted to be her! Yes, a little stalkerish. Okay, a lot stalkerish, but hey, wouldn't it be worse if I sat and let my jealousy fester unvoiced behind a false smiling facade? And that leads me to my next point. Disqus. No false smiling facade on MY comments in Disqus. No facade at all - I am faceless. Must admit the envy was creeping insidiously in about this one too. I would sit, muttering madly under my breath "She got a photo. Why does she get one and not me. Who does she think she is? How did she get on the inner? What have I ever done to Disqus to make it treat me with such obvious disdain? Why aren't I in the cool group? *Sob*" every time I commented and had to enter e-mail, enter username, enter first born son's right testicle...

But then I noticed something. A little thing that soothed my jaded spirit. I was not alone. The uber-cool Allison from Life in a Pink Fibro was sitting a couple of comments away SANS photo! So maybe I am in the cool group. and the other is the uncool group! Well, that's my premise and I'm sticking to it.

And now we come to the procrastination bit... As you may have read in my other post, I won Challenge 67 on Blog This. Which meant I had to come up with a topic for Challenge 69 (I know, I know, okay?). After no help from you lot I came up with a topic:

What would you do if you won the big one. Not one million, or even two million, but a division one prize of 52 million dollars? Would you go public, remain anonymous, use it for good of others, or on family only? If all your financial issues were swept away, what would you do with the rest?

Yeah, not brilliant but all I had at that moment (being put on the spot kinda thing ya know). Now I am avoiding as only someone as consummate a procrastinator such as moi can. You'd a thunk if I was the one coming up with the challenge that I'd have some ideas about it, huh?

Lucky I'm a fly by the seat of my pants sorta gal. Because that's what I'll be doing. For this challenge entry and for Muse Wars I would say. Cest la vie.

Oh, and drop over and check out Challege 68 - Valentine's Past. Vote for your favourite - and I'll let you know I was lucky, for this one I had already written an apt post way back last year.

Okay, no more stuffing around. I'll get stuck into it, I promise. Right after I just go and...

Muse Wars 2011

Originally started by Melissa @ The Things I'd Tell You, the Muse Wars continued through eight challenges and then faded into oblivion. I did attempt to kick start it again but failed dismally. But I'll try once more.

Rules:

• Open to all and sundry, you need to link below in comments. First to list sets next challenge. Anyone can join in, you just need to write a story as your interpretation of the photo in 500 - 1000 words. Can be of any genre - let your mind fly free.
• First to link sets new photo for next challenge. Or can pass it on to next on list but MUST be passed within 24 hours of previous challenge closing.
• Next challenge must be set within seven days of completion of previous challenge.
• Will allow 5 days to complete - so starts Sunday evening, ends Friday night.

Oh, and I have not worked out a new linky tool. Post your entry in my comments and I'll edit this post to show each link. If there are any. Okay?

Here we go:

MUSE WARS 2011

Challenge #1

Go for your lives!

Come back to add: extended to Sunday, and to add our first entry (and the Muse War Challenge 2 organiser):

Kakka - menopausal mumma

Madmother - Little Woven Words

Suzi - Under The Windmills

Muse Wars: Start of a New Era

Originally started by Melissa @ The Things I'd Tell You, the Muse Wars were so named in the second challenge by Madmother (moi), and continued through to around ten challenges. Then stopped, frozen in time.

I am now dubbing the new era of short story photo challenges as:

 Muse Wars: The Linky Era

Rules:

•  Anyone can join in, you just need to write a story as your interpretation of the photo in 500  - 1000 words. Can be of any genre - let your mind fly free.
• McLinky closes within 48 hours of challenge opening.
• First to link sets new photo for next challenge. Or can pass it on to next on list but MUST be passed within 24 hours of previous challenge closing.
• Next challenge must be set within seven days of completion of previous challenge.
• Post the code on your blog for all to see - and include the rules!

Challenge 1 MWTLE Inspiration Photo:

Ready, set, go for it...

 
 
 

Muse Wars? So Where The Bloody Hell Are Ya?

Have some time, definitely have the motivation, anyone else up for it?

Hmmmm?

Whaddya reckon?

Come ON!

P.S. Search for Muse Wars here on my blog and you'll get the idea, just in case you have no idea what I am talking about, lol.

Blurgh...

Am here. Pulling myself slowly upwards towards the light. Clawing my way out of the darkness. It was wonderful to have time with family on Monday, but so sad it was to say farewell to someone so beloved. On our return we attended another funeral, one of my best friend's fathers passed on Saturday. A sad week, all in all.

And as for DERBY training last night? Pfft. You can read of my piss-weak effort on the hellion blog. Just follow the link.

I still have not been into the school, am hoping to make myself go in next week. Just pray I have the strength and can avoid any small talk. Really do not want to see any of the toxic teamsters. Wish they had a mark to show if they have been tainted. I also want to thank you all for being so supportive over the last few weeks, it does mean a lot and I am sorry if I did not acknowledge that, I was finding it hard to keep breathing let alone interact.

I also have realised I have some beautiful irl friends too, two in particular who I know read this. Thank you. In some small part of my scorched heart you gave me hope.

And now, I am hoping this is the last I need to talk about any of this for quite a while. Cannot promise, but I can only try to get this blog back to what it was about.

Lost 1 follower this week, probably bored them to death with my whining, self-focused dribble. And on that note, a question? Are there any Muse Wars running at the moment? I know Melissa had a flash, but it seemed all the regular rascals were awol. Are we up for it again? Ladies? Kakka, it was your turn to post a pic, wasn't it? Would welcome the distraction at the moment. Might just kick start me back into blogdom.

Just To Let You Know

Any future writing challenges, be they Muse Wars or other, will be done on my writing blog. HERE. It was cluttering up this blog too much.

Cheers. Happy reading.

Challenge 8 - Muse Wars short story competition/inspiration.

Originally started by Melissa @ The Things I'd Tell You, the Muse Wars continued with the 2nd challenge set by Tanya(me) @ Meaninless Meandering From a Madmother (and was also named Muse Wars at this stage also by moi), the 3rd by Kakka @ Menopausal Mumma, the 4th challenge by Lori @ Random Ramblings of a SAHM, the 5th challenge by Gemma @ sometimes you just need to vent, 6th challenge @ Menopausal Mumma, Challenge 7 by Lori @ Random Ramblings of a SAHM, and Challenge 8... well obviously me again! Whoever links first will pick Challenge 9.



Are you up for it? Anyone can join in, you just need to write a story as your interpretation of the photo in around 500 words (although this limit was removed by Melissa in the first challenge so it is merely a suggestion).





And now for something a little different to get those creative juices flowing:

Muse Wars 7: Beam Me Up Scotty

Originally started by Melissa @ The Things I'd Tell You, the Muse Wars continued with the 2nd challenge set by Tanya(me) @ Meaninless Meandering From a Madmother, and the 3rd by Kakka @ Menopausal Mumma, the 4th challenge by Lori @ Random Ramblings of a SAHM, the 5th challenge by Gemma @ sometimes you just need to vent., 6th challenge   @ Menopausal Mumma,  Challenge 7 by Lori @ Random Ramblings of a SAHM. whoever links first will pick challenge 8.

Are you up for it? Anyone can join in, you just need to write a story as your interpretation of the photo in around 500 words (although this limit was removed by Melissa in the first challenge so it is merely a suggestion).

Tall,  and still as a statue, he knew his father would be proud. The third generation in this chosen occupation he took great pride in his heritage and his work. Not many nowadays followed the family calling. Not many nowadays were up for what they considered to be an archaic career choice. He knew a lot of his peers considered him strange for taking this little needed path, but he had never cared what others thought. Only his family, always his family. The light of respect that shone in his father and grandfather's eyes when he came home for those rare breaks was enough for him. He needed no more.


 A gentle ocean breeze blew past him, but he betrayed no movement. It was a glorious day, the kind that always made him that little bit homesick when he thought of long, sunny days and bright blue cloudless skies. Home where it never rained and each balmy day blended into another. Home where his family waited patiently for this tour of duty to end. Home where he could be himself.

Without a doubt he was almost ready to leave this lonely place, as beautiful as it was. There was only so much solitude he could take, and six years was a long time. He knew his replacement was being groomed, but it took time to train in this ancient century-old art. Just a little longer, he thought, just a little more patience. Only three more days until the new moon, then he would be free to depart.

He stood, stoic, solid, duty-bound as the sunny days blended into moonlit nights. He gathered all his data, collected any drops of information that came his way. At last it was time.

In the dark of a cloudy moonless dark night, the neighbourhood rumbled with roaring thunder. On the rocky outcrop his body shuddered and moaned, slowly coming to life after the six years anchored to the ground. In the distance another tall, solid identical intelligence agent waited to replace him. By morning no-one would even know he had been replaced, and he would return to the home planet with his wealth of earth data for the scientists to analyse this primitive planet with its lack of technology and soft-fleshed vulnerable inhabitants.

His family would welcome him, their bright lights flashing in emotion, as he settled back into his portal base on the edge of the purple sea of molten hydrogen. Where the four suns always shone day and night.

Muse Wars Challenge 6 - The Sunset

Originally started by Melissa @ The Things I'd Tell You, the Muse Wars continued with the 2nd challenge set by Tanya(me) @ Meaninless Meandering From a Madmother, and the 3rd by Kakka @ Menopausal Mumma, the 4th challenge by Lori @ Random Ramblings of a SAHM, and the 5th challenge by Gemma @ sometimes you just need to vent.


 The first person to link their story to this post  @ Menopausal Mumma, will win the right to choose the next photo and set Challenge 7.


Are you up for it? Anyone can join in, you just need to write a story as your interpretation of the photo in around 500 words (although this limit was removed by Melissa in the first challenge so it is merely a suggestion).
 
 "Can Mummy see us too, Daddy?"  "Yes Tim, I think Mummy can see us too." "Pink is her very favourite, isn't it Daddy." "Yes son, I think God may have given her a pink sunset specially because she loves it so much." "God is nice isn't he Daddy. I think I will like Heaven."

Gerard took a deep breath, bracing himself for the next onslaught. This was a lot harder than he had ever imagined, and he had thought it through on so many sleepless nights. The innocence and unconditional love of this child swelled his bruised heart, giving him strength to go on. The summer breeze playfully tugged at their identical close-cropped brown curls.

"Daddy?"
"Yes son."
"Do you think God knows who I am?"
"I think God knows exactly who you are Tim."
"That's good. God must have a very good memory to know everybody musn't he Daddy. Daddy?"
"Yes Tim."
"Does God know Mummy is my Mum?"
"Oh Tim, of course God knows she is your Mum. Don't you have the exact same green eyes and big smile?"
"Do you think Mummy is smiling now Daddy? Right now?"
"I don't know Tim, I hope so."
Finally his son runs out of constant questions. They stand together in synchronised silence watching the spectacular sunset, waves quietly lapping around ankles, wet sand squishing underfoot. The light slowly begins to fade as God's afternoon sky display draws to a close.

Gerard turns to his child in the dim evening glow. "Time to go, eh Tim?"

"Do we have to Dad?"

"Show is over matey, we better head back."

"TIM! GERARD!"
A tiny figure frantically waves from the top of the beach near the carpark. The calls grow louder and louder as the distant figure rips off their shoes and begins to run down to the water.

"TIM...GERARD!"
They squint, unable to make out the face clearly, they both begin to wave frantically.

"TIMGERARD" All three run, heading to each other from opposite directions.


"Mummy!" Gerard stands back allowing his son to leap into his mother's arms. Tina smiles over their child's shoulder, his small arms clenched around her neck.
"Did you see the sunset Mummy? Did you see it from the doctors? It was for you, full of pink from God."
"I saw it from the window Tim. It was beautiful. A happy pink sky."

Gerard gazes questioningly into the sparkling green eyes of the mother of his child.

"A happy pink sky?"

"Yes. A happy pregnant pink sky. A girl baby sky, maybe?" Gerard joins in the embrace, encircling his wife and child in strong arms. After so many failed attempts over the last six years, they had given up hope. This, this, was an unexpected blessing from God. A bolt from the blue.  A happy pink girl sky, he thought, I can deal with that. I can definitely deal with that.

Where, oh where, oh where is Kakka? Where, oh where...

IS KAKKA?

Hmmm? She hasn't posted or commented for a while and it is her turn to pick a pic for the Muse Wars challenge...

So, Karen, to quote the Bingle Ballbreaker: where the bloody hell are ya?

Don't tell me you have packed up your ball and bat and gone to play elsewhere?

I miss you. Come back and post some blog love soon. Please.

Muse Wars 5: Storm in a B-Cup.

"Hail thee Bethsheba, Goddess of Purity and Light. Glorify my night skies, reap my bountiful beauty, take me to the inner sanctum of thine holiness. Protect me from the rath of Delimar, God of Darkness and Sin. Let him not taint my sacred right, my virgin choice to walk the path of self-sacrifice. Blessed be thee who protects the female holy chalice of abstainance. Blessed be thee who casts the clouds and shadows away. Blessed be thee who lights my way."

The power pulsed and throbbed within her as the sky danced in terror. She was sure she could hear a growl of frustration echoing in the rumbling roar of wind and thunder.The demon God Delimar was not happy with this unexpected turn of things. He did not like being thwarted by a mere mortal, even one whose family encompassed the pagan cult of Bathynderin and had done for thirteen generations. Kali allowed the blood of her elders to quicken its flow through her veins, driven by her racing heart. She was the thirteenth child of the thirteenth child of the thirteenth generation. Twelve times had this been cast before, twelve times had the thirteenth daughter stood here and cast her chant to the billowing wind and wild skies. Each time a life partner had been sent to perpetuate the cycle, the forever men revealed to them in passion on a tempetuous eve.

Kali knew it was written in the prodigy book that she would be the one. That the power of the bloods would blend and produce one divine chosen vessel for the Goddess to reveal her Earthly visage to. The thirteenth of the thirteenth of the thirteenth generation. Delimar once again snarled his displeasure.

"Oh Bethsheba, Goddess of Purity and Light. Light my path.Cast back the darkness and allow me to see thee in thy chosen form. Anoint me as thy pre-ordained priestess, forever to stand by your side as your earthly guide. Illuminate the way to self-preservation and immortality. Defy the ties of hatred and darkness the wicked God Delimar yearns to bind you with. Send me the LIGHT!"

Upon this last proclamation an unearthly flash surrounded the thirteenth daughter of the thirteenth daughter in this the thirteenth generation of the pagan cult of Bathynderin. The heavens opened and the fields ran awash with cleansing rain. But of the chosen child there was no sign; nothing to show where she had stood arms outstretched only seconds before. Nothing  bar a pair of small smouldering half moons of metal inside a circle of the lightening scorched earth.

Steam arose in sibulant sulking protest as the downpour hit the burning, glowering heat of the halved rings, then the earth resonated once more with a menacing manifest:


"Stupid mortal. Just one more annoying little storm in a B-cup. Mwahahahahahahaha..."




Apologies, forgot explanation and links:
Original brainchild of Melissa, the now aptly named Muse Wars was to inspire anyone who was struggling with a missing muse to write again. Challenge is a picture is chosen, you have around 48 hours to write what it inspires, around the 500 word mark. Whoever adds their link first chooses next challenge.

This one was chosen by Gemma at Sometimes You Just Need to Vent.
 

Challenge 4 Muse Wars: The Things We Do For Love

Muse Wars

Challenge 4: Random Ramblings of SAHM

48 hours 500ish words - Let The Challenge Begin...

The loud blast of an angry car horn made Jenny leap, only the strong biting grab of her seat belt saving her from slamming her forehead on the steering wheel. With a muttered curse she continued her kerb crawl ignoring the louder and louder beeps behind her. They could all go to blazes, this mission was too important to rush. Struggling to peer into the garish glare of the seedy shopfronts, Jenny scanned each hooded teenager throroughly, slowly, intensely. Where the hell was Immie, and what on earth was her seventeen year old daughter doing sneaking out of their hotel in the dead of night? She could not believe that her normally sensible child had changed almost overnight under the influence of an on-line acquaintance. This new Immogen was an absolute stranger to her own Mother. The once sweet dark-haired beauty had been transformed into an angry, sweatshirt-clad, sullen punk. She had even tinted her glossy brown hair with some sort of murky purple dye, though Jenny supposed she should be grateful that there were no body piercings or tattoos to worry about. None that she could see anyway.

The kerbside crawl continued. Cars now weaved around her snail-pace vehicle, drivers screaming abuse as they flew past. She had no idea what she would do if she could not find Immie. She was in a strange land, with no friends or contacts to call on... well none she wanted to renew connection with if she had a choice.

A glimpse of a plum haired beauty under a darkened hood quickened her pulse. Is it? Craning forward, Jenny rolled down the window for a clearer look. Only then did she notice the grey-haired man holding her child in his suit-clad embrace. Dear God, he was so much older, even in her wildest imagining she had not expected this.

"Immogen!" Anxiety raised the pitch of her voice, shrilly splitting the underlying night murmers. The couple turned, dismay warring with relief as Immie recognised her mother. The companion merely sheepishly shrugged, appearing resigned and prepared for this confrontation. Her anger overrode concern, and Jenny thought she could easily kill right then. How could he act as if this was not a big deal, what sort of a person was she dealing with?

"Hi Mum." Her daughter's defiance resurfaced, shock receeding quickly. She pulled her reluctant companion over to the now stationery car. "Aren't you going to say hello to Dad?"

Shocked brown eyes met the bemused brown gaze of her former youthful indiscretion, thought long left behind in her agonised dash back to Australia.

Damn internet, once Immie knew her birth father's name she would not be deterred from this destructive path. The web made the world so bloody small sometimes.

"Hello Ari. Long time no see."