Bright in the dark: endeavour and the lighthouse (2)

‘Surreal’ is an often used word and does its best to convey a moment, usually quite fleeting, in which there is both a heightened sense of ‘being there’ and another feeling of strangeness. The two come together and we feel vaguely uncomfortable that something for which we have no real words envelopes us.

This state of consciousness is described in more detail in the Silent Eye’s consciousness course as being a temporary cessation of the ‘filters’ that cloud our experience of the seemingly ordinary world. A better word for the experience is ‘present’, as in present to what’s real.

In truth, nothing is ordinary, and reality is seeing that

Our first ‘present’ moment of the day happened when we carefully bypassed Henrietta and entered the sanctuary of the Farmhouse Cafe in Balemartin. My first post in this series, last week, resulted in several offers to adopt Henrietta, the bike guardian, so I reproduce, above, the photograph of her doing her day-job. I don’t think she’s available for adoption…

The impending storm had quickened our minds, in the way that survival does, and, with the first of the rain driving at the windows, we found we had entered an establishment that had just opened. The staff – four quite young people – looked at us as though we had camped outside overnight, falling through the door, in desperation, the minute they unlocked it. I suppose we looked a bit alien in our bright cycling gear.

Continue reading here

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Thursday photo prompt – Mask #writephoto

#writephoto

Regular readers may know that my computer exploded recently… the very same in which most of my photo files are stored. Not lost, thank goodness, but still locked away until they can be recovered.  Unable to find a suitable picture from recent wanderings, I thought this one might inspire a few stories…

Use the image as inspiration to create a post on your own blog… poetry, prose, humour… light or dark, whatever you choose, by noon (GMT)  Wednesday 26th July and link back to this post with a pingback. Please make sure that the pingback works and if not, copy and paste your link into the comments section of this post. Don’t forget to use the #writephoto hashtag in your title so your posts can be found.

You can find all last week’s entries in the round-up. Please visit and read the stories and poems and explore the sites of their writers.

Please note that I will be away from the computer for a few days, so it will take time to approve and respond to pingbacks and comments.

I will feature as many entries as I can on the blog during the week, but given the volume of contributions we are getting every week, that may not be all of them! The best way to ensure your post is featured is to send it well before the deadline but all posts will be included in a round up on Thursday 27th July.

Feel free to use #writephoto logo or include the prompt photo in your post if you wish or you can replace it with one of your own to illustrate your work.

Have fun!

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Photo prompt round up – Messenger #writephoto

The photo for this week’s prompt was taken in the Derbyshire village of Foolow, close to where the Silent Eye hold our annual weekend workshop every April.

If you have written a piece for this week’s challenge and it does not appear below, please leave a link in the comments and I will add it to the list. Pingbacks do not always get through.

With a phenomenal number of superb contributions this week, I would like to thank  everyone who took part. Please click on the links below to visit all the posts and leave a comment for the author! A new prompt will be published later today and, as always,  I will reblog as many as I can through the week as they come in and all contributions will be featured in the round-up on Thursday.

Come and join in!

 Messenger

Funereal flight
Bad news arrives on dark wings
Dreaded harbinger
Cursed as carrion’s cleaner
Patrolling the battlefield

Bird of Apollo
Divinity’s messenger
Guiding the Crossing
Mediating life and death
Shimmering in the sunlight

Speaker of wisdom
Knowing beyond intellect
Thought and memory
Hooded wings hold protection
And thou art black but comely

Perspectives differ
Each culture knows your presence
According respect
Do you laugh at our stories
Or shape-shift to redeem them

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Many thanks to this weeks contributors:

Trent P. McDonald

pensitivity101

Sisyphus at Of Glass and Paper

Reinventions by Reena

Pamela Morse at mermaidcamp

A writer’s beginning

Craig Towsley

Jane Dougherty Writes

Willow at willowdot21

Neel Anil Panicker

Kim from Writing in North Norfolk

Sandi from Flip Flops Every day

Leena at Soul Connection

Isabel Caves

Journey

Frank Hubeny

Michael at Morpeth Road

Hayley R. Hardman at The Story Files

Jael Sook at God’s Chair

Stuart France

Geoff Le Pard at Tangental

Sarah Brentyn at Lemon Shark Reef

Joelle LeGendre at Two on a Rant

Ashwini at Kaleidoscope of my life

Emma Hyde

Sree at Sreeblogs

Kerfe at methodtwomadness

Robbie Cheadle

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Messenger by Kerfe #writephoto

messenger collage s

swift shadow
against trees and sky
black on blue
a prism
reflecting feathers and air
shapeshifting through light

Continue reading: Messenger | method two madness

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Noir

She moved with the sinuous grace of a dancer or a thief; sleek and deadly. Her eyes were wide, feigning innocence. Hiding secrets… She licked her lips, as if she liked the taste of blood.

The crime scene didn’t faze her, yet it was the worst I had ever seen. In my job, you see things you don’t want to remember.

He’d been cornered, caught in a dead end, a trap with no way out.

Blood spattered high up the walls. Gobbets of rent flesh clung to the paintwork. Dismembered life festered in scarlet pools on the pale carpet. The only thing she’d left intact was a foot, just one.

God knows what she’d done with the rest of him…

He must have struggled… fought back…  the violence of the attack, the carnage…sickening.

This wasn’t just murder. This was slaughter.

I was glad I’d only had coffee. The clean-up was going to take some time…

I picked up the severed foot and bagged it. She didn’t even flinch.

I couldn’t work her out.

It wasn’t the first time we had faced each other over a corpse. How many had she killed? And why? She was young, beautiful… lacked for nothing. From the jewelled collar to the fur, this girl had it all.

She was guilty as sin.

And she was going to walk free…

…leaving me with another corpse to dispose of…

I’ve really gone off that cat…

 

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Raven Post…. Stuart France

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Fear Death-in-Life

Get death in life…

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Embrace Death-in-Life

Get life in death…

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Source: Stuart France

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Solar #midnighthaiku

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