Silly Saturday – How to Cheat at State Visits

A state visit is when someone comes to your home, but you don’t recall inviting them. If you look out your front window and see lots of photographers you are sure to be having a state visit and you must be prepared.

On a state visit it is bad manners to wait till the doorbell rings, you must be outside ready to greet them; this is when you will need help from your family and colleagues. If the visitors have brought their whole family you must find an equal number of members of your own family who have not been insulted by the guests and do not have anything better to do, like go to work or look after the baby.

Each visitor must be greeted with sincere smiles, for the benefit of the cameras, and cheerful small talk. At this early stage of the meeting it is best to stick to the weather.

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You will also need help indoors. Your guests may expect to stay in your home, you can get out of this by having renovations done on the house, but you cannot get out of giving them a good meal. If you are The Queen you are used to giving banquets and will have a few people to help, but if you don’t have a banqueting hall you just need to pull out the leaves on the dining table, buy a few candlesticks at the charity shop and you can get three bunches of flowers for a fiver at the greengrocers. Don’t forget to buy a few bottles of wine when you get the food shop.

The menu is important as it will feature in reports of the state visit. If you are The Queen you may have to take the great grandchildren’s pet hand reared lamb and roast it, but you can probably get away with a couple of chickens from Aldi.

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Finally you will need felt pens and some recycled card to make place names for the table, but planning the seating is easy with these simple rules. Each person must sit next to someone of the opposite sex who they have never met before. Don’t forget to wear your best clothes and remind your family to be on their best behaviour and leave their mobile phones in the box at the door.

Good luck and don’t forget to record that television programme you were looking forward to watching in your pyjamas.

sunshine-blogger

 

Friday Flash Fiction – 868 – Heroes

Jed Baker strode across the landing strip with his usual measured pace. His co-pilot Chas Blair was already checking the fuel and instruments.

‘There’s only a small window in the weather Skipper’ said Chas.

‘So are we ready for take off? Don Carlos is a fool if he thinks Felicity Fairdew’s family are going to stump up the ransom money.’

In the blue sky the cotton wool clouds soon gave way to a dark menacing cover, the little plane shuddered and the port wing dipped. Inside the cockpit Jed’s strong hand gripped the joy stick and his firm jaw remained set. Chas checked the map then peered through the rain lashed side window.

‘I can just see the castle turrets above the clouds, but to find the river, let alone the flat riverside meadow could be impossible Jed.’

‘We’ve faced worse than this fighting Gerry’ replied his friend.

They descended through the clouds.

‘We could use the road as a marker,’ said Chas ‘but in this weather we could mistake the road for the river.’

There was silence as the two men concentrated, then with a bump they landed on the green velvet of the meadow just as the rain ceased and the sky turned blue.

‘Well Chas, we can see our way to the castle now, unfortunately Don Carlos will be able to spot us.’

Still in their flying jackets they paced their way carefully across the meadow.

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In the tower of the inner keep Don Carlos peered out through the narrow slit in the stone wall and laughed.

‘My old friends Pilot Officer Baker and Pilot Officer Blair; they will never make it up the sheer walls… and my dear Miss Fairdew, Colonel Fairdew has not responded to my messages. It looks as though I shall be enjoying your company for another evening. Perhaps the roast pheasant will tempt your appetite.’

Felicity Fairdew shook her long blonde hair and stared defiantly at him with her large eyes, her ruby lips remained set in a pout.

‘I shall not enjoy your company, nor will a morsel of food pass my lips till you set me free.’

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The two heroes felt their way along the slippery, steep rock face of the extinct volcano the ancient castle was built upon.

‘It’s no use Chas, this mount is as impossible to climb as Mount Everest.’

‘But we can’t let Miss Fairdew down, I can’t bear to think of such a beautiful girl at the mercy of that brute.’

‘I think you have fallen in love with fair Felicity and a black and white photograph is all you have seen. You must not let romantic ideas cloud your judgment. Chaps like us can only admire gals like her from afar.’

‘The war’s over Jed, it’s time a chap like me settled down.’

Jed’s firm jaw dropped for a second before rejoining his stiff upper lip.

‘Settle down? What would happen to Double B International Rescue? No more talk now Pilot Officer Blair, it’s time for plan B, if we can’t climb up we shall drop down.’

‘You mean…’

‘Yes, it’s time to try the gallant old girl on auto pilot.’

The two men moved as swiftly as they could back to the plane.

‘Take over the controls Chas while I get my ‘chute on. If anything happens to me you’ll get your chance to be the sole saviour of the lovely Miss Fairdew.’

‘Nothing’s going to happen to you Skip and I’ll be landing two ticks behind.’

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The plane bumped along the meadow and almost hesitated as it took off, but soon it was circling round the castle, higher and higher. A figure dropped out and a white parachute unfurled, shortly after, a second figure emerged and the little plane straightened into a descent.

By the castle keep the two airmen dropped, knees bending into a roll.

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‘Okay, CUT’ said the director. ‘Well done boys, take a break before the interior shoot. Cameras One and Two I want you inside the Great Hall filming Jed and Chas as they break down the wooden door. Camera Three on Felicity’s face, Four on Don Carlos as he lurches drunkenly towards her.

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Jed turned to Chas. ‘How do we break down that massive oak door? I feel as if I have no strength in my arms.’

‘No worries, special effects are dealing with that, we concentrate on our entrance, build ourselves up, imagine how we would be feeling.’

‘Feeling?’

‘Method acting, new idea the director wants to try, we take the lead.’

‘The director is supposed to direct me, I don’t know how to take the lead… Chas, I think something happened when I landed, I can’t move my legs.’

‘Same here, I think I’m having a panic attack. We must pull ourselves together before they blast down that door.’

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The director yelled at his assistant. ‘What the hell’s going on Pelham, what’s happened to Jed and Chas?’

‘It’s okay boss, I had to cut their strings, they got in such a tangle in the parachute scene. I’ll try and restring them during the tea break.’

The cameraman laughed. ‘Looks like poor Chas won’t be hitting the sack with Felicity tonight.’

Heroes is one of the 24 tales in Hallows and Heretics

Only £1.28 on Amazon Kindle

also available in paperback.

 

 

 

The Blog of Many Colours

Times and Tides of a Beachwriter is brought to you today by the most boring colour…

Stevie Turner suggested I tackle beige, I don’t think she claimed it as her favourite colour. If it is I hope she won’t be offended. You can visit her blog here where she does a great job supporting other bloggers.

https://steviet3.wordpress.com/2019/06/01/share-your-short-story-june-2019/

Is beige the most boring colour? Knowing I was going to write this, a friend described a live show many moons ago when a well know comedian was making jokes about ladies in beige twin sets and my friend was wearing one; she shrunk down in her seat.

Is beige even a colour? Here is a picture of the most boring Poole Pottery ever made. Created in the 1970’s it was called mushroom and sepia, but it is a far cry from their earlier patterns or the fiery red vases they are famous for.

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https://www.poolepottery.co.uk/collections/vases?gclid=EAIaIQobChMI2Irf0fDN4gIVKL7tCh3ENQB_EAAYASAAEgJO6fD_BwE

Here at Chez Tidalscribe there is a family joke about those useful gilets with lots of very useful pockets that the older man likes to wear … and they are always beige. My late uncle used to wear one and we are always seeing uncle lookalikes. Cyberspouse is determined never to buy one.

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But where does beige come from? It takes its name from the French, where the word originally meant natural wool that has been neither bleached nor dyed. It has come to be used to describe a variety of light tints chosen for their neutral or pale warm appearance. Paint manufacturers make up many exotic names for paint that is really just shades of beige and there is nothing wrong with painting your house in neutral colours to look light and clean, you can always get bright curtains. Hmmm  I have just realized we have beigish curtains, bought in Debenham’s sale years ago. They tone down the butterscotch walls and the orange throws and turquoise cushions on the multi coloured sofa…

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When grandchild number one was expected the parents didn’t want to know the sex, so the nursery was decorated in beige and looked calm and soothing. When number two was on the way they did want to know; they were delighted it would be a girl this time, so the nursery was decorated in every shade of pink and in her cot the baby’s face took on an orange glow when the evening sun shone through the cerise curtains.

Beige; do you love it or hate it?

Fashion or interior design?

Silly Saturday – Starting Summer

Hurrah, Meteorological Summer starts today, you don’t have to wait till the summer solstice. The weathermen like to divide the year up into seasons of exactly three months according to the Gregorian calendar. Don’t forget, if you are living in the Southern Hemisphere summer is not starting for a long time. If you are a school child in the Northern Hemisphere you may already be on school holidays or may have a long time to wait yet.

If you are on top of Mount Everest it is time to come down, the weather window is nearly over and monsoons are coming. If the summit is as crowded as last week you will have to queue up to come down.

NZ Queenstown

If you are Teresa May, May is over and you only have a week left as leader of the conservative party, but perhaps you have a summer walking holiday to look forward to.

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Summer means we must all look happy and smile at others… if they look up from their phones long enough to notice. If you are a gardener it is safe to plant out your summer bedding and discover how many weeds have taken over… it also means that the non gardeners in the family will have to cook dinner if they don’t wish to starve – the long summer evenings mean you can stay out in the garden watering and dead heading forever.

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What does summer mean to you – putting the chairs out in the garden or going swimming in the sea?

What is your favourite summer song – Cliff Richard’s Summer Holiday or Lovin’ Spoonful’s ‘Summer in the city’?

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Cheers to the Passengers of May

I have travelled on buses all my life, so I am sure I have been on the Number 26. As May comes to an end, Number 26 gives us an intriguing selection of words about travel I can’t resist sharing.

Thenumber26's avatarThe Number 26

Cheers to the passengers and travelers of May! As this is a blog of words, here are some beautiful words for the travelers out there.

Eleutheromania- An intense and irresistible desire for freedom.

Fernweh (German)- The feeling of being homesick for a place you’ve never been.

Trouvaille (French)- The stumbling upon Something lovely, or the discovery of something beautiful, by mere chance.

Waldeinsamkeit (untranslatable from German)- The feeling of being alone in the woods.

Sonder (A contraction of both German and French words from The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows)- the realization that each random passerby you pass- such as on the bus- is living a life as vivid and complex as your own

Onism (Danish)- The awareness of, even if you’ve traveled your entire life, just how little of the world you’ll actually get to experience.

Meraki (Greek)- Putting a little part of yourself into whatever it is you’re doing…

View original post 54 more words

Friday Flash Fiction – The Old Forest

The editor was deciding which story to run with on the front page. His young assistant Lisa usually had strong opinions on what would attract readers.

‘This young man has been missing for three days; lives at home, steady job, good character. He had an argument with his girlfriend, drove off and hasn’t been seen since.’

Lisa frowned ‘I still think we should stick with the murdered stallion.’

‘It was a hit and run accident,’ the editor smiled ‘you’ve been reading too many of Mr. Oak’s letters. There’s another one today, shall I include it, or do you think the readers are sick of him?’

‘Yes link it with your leading item. He has got a point.’

‘Banning cars from the New Forest, penalising families because of a few idiots? Mind you, it would stir things up a bit, no good stories this week. Sam’s been out to interview the verderer who found the dead horse. Hmm… main headline Cars To Be Banned From New Forest then much smaller Should cars be banned from the New Forest?’

‘Me and Gavin are going to the forest tomorrow; a nice picnic, then we’re going to his boss’s home for a dinner party. He’s got a posh house hidden in the middle of the forest; I hope we manage to find it.’

Lisa didn’t tell her boss that tomorrow she was going to give Gavin news.

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The picnic was a success; the early spring sun was warm enough for them to sit on a blanket. Lisa was banking on Gavin being pleased, now he had his promotion; she was delighted with his response.

‘That’s wonderful, let’s get married.’ Gavin had been reluctant to ask before; the thought of wedding fairs, months of planning and dressing up had appalled him. Now they had the ideal excuse for a small, quiet wedding very soon. ‘Let’s get married in the forest, a sort of hippy wedding.’

She laughed ‘Why not, but don’t tell anyone this evening, we’ll have to tell our parents first.’

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They enjoyed the evening and their shared secret; even looking benevolently on the boss’s ghastly children.

As they drove home, Gavin teased her. ‘You’ll get a crick in your neck, looking at the speedometer.’

‘We have to be careful in the dark; we might not see a pony till it’s too late. I wish you’d let me drive.’

‘I’ve only had a couple of pints, you should take it easy now you’re pregnant.’

‘We should have stuck to the A 35, it’s creepy out here.’

‘You’re safe with me; this is the real forest.’

‘Did you hear the news this morning? They’ve found that bloke’s car in the forest.’

‘What bloke?’

‘The one who went missing; I told the editor it wasn’t much of a story, now it seems it is. There was no sign of him.’

‘Maybe he wanted to run away.’

‘Perhaps, the car was hidden in the trees, off a remote track. That’s the creepy thing, it might not have been found for years; some botanist was looking for rare plants.’ Lisa looked at the speedometer; the speed had crept up. ‘Gavin, I thought you were going to be more responsible now you’re going to be…’

Her sentence remained unfinished as they felt a bump and Gavin slammed the brakes on.

‘We’ve hit a pony’ cried Lisa.

‘It’s probably a fallen tree trunk, stay in the car while I look.’

Lisa jumped out of the car and they stood either side of the body, a pair of glazed eyes stared up at them.

‘Oh it’s a doe, she’s pregnant. You’ve killed her Gavin.’

‘It was an accident; animals should be asleep at night, not darting out into the road.’

‘We’re not on the road.’

Gavin followed her gaze; if they hadn’t run into the deer they would have crashed into a large old oak tree.

He was puzzled. ‘I’m a careful driver, I had a clear, straight road in front of me, it was narrow, but I had plenty of room.’ He went to fetch the torch from the car, then took Lisa’s shaking hand and led her round to the boot. He shone the torch the way they had just come, a tarmac road. ‘I’m sorry about the deer Lisa, but she saved us; this must be a dead end road.’

‘Let’s go now,’ she shivered we don’t know the verderer’s number, we can ring the police when we get home. We’ll go back the way we came and try and find the A 35.’

‘Or we could just ring nobody’ said Gavin hopefully.

They both jumped at a clumping noise; a large branch had landed on the roof.

‘Another lucky escape; that could have fallen on us while we were driving, hope it hasn’t damaged the paintwork.’

As Gavin tried in vain to pull at the heavy limb, Lisa spoke shakily.

‘It’s not fallen, it’s still attached to the tree. We must be on a slope, the car’s rolled into the tree.’

Gavin shone his torch and saw the driver’s door was jammed against the trunk.

‘I’ll get in your door and climb over. I’m going to put it in reverse.’ As he tried to start the engine he felt a heavy thump on the bonnet. ‘Quick, get in so we’re ready to go, hopefully that branch will slide off the bonnet. Lisa, this is no time for tree hugging…’

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On Monday morning the editor had too much to put on his front page and Lisa wasn’t there to help. He had just spoken to her hysterical mother on the phone. Lisa was missing and her boyfriend had been found wandering in the New Forest by the search party looking for the missing man. Gavin had been in shock and incoherent, so the police arrested him. Everyone knew they had both been to the forest and everyone knew Gavin was the last person to see her.

 

‘The Old Forest’ is one of the stories in this collection – only $1.27 for 27 stories.

 

The Blog of Many Colours

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Times and Tides of a Beachwriter is brought to you today by the colour red, chosen by Rowena who was very happy to pick up a red Alpha Romeo at auction. You can visit her blog here.

https://beyondtheflow.wordpress.com/2019/05/22/ma-ma-friday-fictioneers

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Red is bold, certainly not modest, it adorns the flags of many countries. We obey it at traffic lights and the only time it hides is when it is safely inside our bodies; blood red is ready to gush out of us at any opportunity.

Red is iconic; double decker buses, the Red Arrows of the Royal Air Force and the Forth Bridge. It tells you where to post your letters, where to find a fire extinguisher and still occasionally where to make a phone call. Red tells us when it is Christmas.

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Photographers love a splash of red; a boat in the harbour, a red coat walking in the snow. A red front door looks distinguished.

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Red is one of the three primary colours and one of the four colours humans like to use for organising people. At school I was in the red team, Saint George. Saint Patrick was green, Saint Andrew blue and Saint David yellow.

We are not urged to eat our reds, as we are with greens, but tomatoes and red peppers are healthy and brighten the plate up.

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Long before Christmas existed mid winter was hailed by red berries. In spring it feels a little subdued, except for tulips, but summer brings Mediterranean scarlet with geraniums ( pelargoniums ) and romance with deep red roses. In autumn red reaches for the skies as the leaves turn.

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Much of the earth is red. When I was a child my mother told me Devon had red soil, I could not imagine such a thing, but white chalk cliffs turn to red as you go west along the Jurassic Coast. Northern parts of Australia are red, such as the Pilbara, known for its ancient red landscapes and vast mineral deposits; red also means rich in iron ore. Other continents all have their unique red landscapes.

https://www.australiasnorthwest.com/

Alas red, through no fault of its own, is a political colour. Who decided communism should be red? Nature used red first.

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Silly Saturday – How to Cheat at the Chelsea Flower Show

I have never actually been to the Chelsea Flower Show so I am in the perfect position to tell you how to cheat.

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First of all, if you are lucky enough to have access to BBC television, just watch it on TV. Only the Royal Family, television presenters and of course the judges get to wander around without crowds and actually set foot in the show gardens.

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You can wander round your own garden pretending you are at Chelsea, and you could even take photos to put on Instagram

#chelseafs #gold medal #gardengold So excited, I got my first gold.

Who on Instagram could prove you hadn’t really been there. Even if your washing line, the neighbour’s fence and your mop bucket accidentally get in the picture you can  pretend it is part of the design

( See designing your own garden, below )

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But the best way to cheat is to go there. Perhaps there is a hole in the fence you could slip through, find a little spot of ground at the back of the refreshment tent by the bins and be a guerilla gardener. There is no need to spend a whole year planning a garden. Everything you need can be found at home, the local garden centre, builders’ skips and the rubbish tip. Anything goes; whatever your makeshift garden looks like you can claim to be encouraging recycling, wild flowers and insects. A few rocks, some old wood and a bucket or children’s paddling pool for a water feature. Then fill in the gaps with lots of plants from the garden center.

 

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To complete the cheat wear something smart, but not too smart, stand confidently in front of your floral plot and talk to the crowds passing by, or an imaginary camera about themes and your artisan garden. Everyone will assume you are a television presenter or garden expert talking about a wonderfully original show garden.

 

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2019/may/22/chelsea-flower-show-2019-top-garden-trends

 

Friday Flash Fiction – On Remand

Lee’s tenth birthday, 2029, where had the years gone; so much had changed in my son’s lifetime and yet so little had changed. Here I was packing to go to the moon and yet we still hadn’t left the EU.

Lara stirred.

‘Sorry, did I disturb you?’

‘No, Lee must still be asleep.’

‘Hmm, not like when he was a baby.’

‘This time ten years ago we were deciding whether we had time to go and vote in the European Union elections before you took me to the hospital.’

‘..and we would never have imagined those MEPs would still be in power.’

‘… not exactly, they’re living on the moon.’

‘Their colony paid for with our taxes and we can’t even afford a trip to a space station.’

‘You can’t complain, work trip to the moon.’

‘If I make senior partner I’ll take you and Lee on a Lunar Leisure Break.’

‘…I wish you didn’t have to go, are you sure it’s safe?’

‘Just as safe as any journey on earth.’

illustration of moon showing during sunset
Photo by David Besh on Pexels.com

I was looking forward to my trip, but nervous. Lee had chosen Zero Gravity Experience at the sports centre for his birthday treat with his friends. The moon should be lovely and peaceful after that experience.  As the junior partner in the law firm I had landed the task of defending some celebrity I had never heard of, at present on remand in the lunar penal colony.

With politics on earth turning into a comedy and panic over the state of the planet, the big nations had taken their eye off the ball. Huge business consortiums had quietly started colonising the moon, starting with terrariums they progressed to bigger and bigger biospheres, plant life creating the air the moon lacked. The mineral rich moon dust mixed with human and plant waste made excellent soil. Biospheres were leased out to governments for everything from lunar laboratories to prisons. It was the prisons that proved most popular, an age old solution to overcrowding on earth and big business had no interest in who was imprisoned or why.

Despite my reassurances to Lara I was anxious as I took my berth. I had been booked on one of the cheaper rocketlines, though it hadn’t lost a rocket since 2025. They saved money by tranquilizing the passengers; I felt the powerful take off, but nothing more till I was woken by the commander’s voice warning us to remain lying down until we had locked on to the landing module.

Now I did feel excitement as the eight of us squeezed our way to the air lock, once through we were in a pleasant lounge with picture windows. To one side we could look up at the blue planet, still surprisingly blue, but that was probably due to the rise in sea level. At the other side we could look down on craters and grey terrain just as one imagined, but gradually sparkling lights of many colours appeared and the landscape changed to glittering domes and globes. I was truly living the dreams of my parents and grandparents when they had watched on television as the first man landed on the moon sixty years ago.

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Our landing at the Virgin Moonport was gentle, but once in the arrivals lounge we could have been at any airport, security were everywhere. Sightseeing was not going to be an option; my papers were inspected and my grim escort took me straight to the vacuum tube where we shared a capsule with a female prison officer and what I presumed to be a prisoner.

At Amazon Lunar Penitentiary hopes that my boss had booked the luxury hotel dome were quickly shattered, prison visitors had their own economy accommodation block. Looking at my bare room I wondered what the cells would be like. I only had half an hour to refresh myself before a different uniform collected me.

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Prisoner 356 was in a room exactly like mine; he was young and non-descript for a celebrity, nor did he look like a criminal. We shook hands and he introduced himself as Steve Brown, his real name.  I still had no idea what he actually did.

‘Okay Steve, tell me in your own words how you came to be arrested; we were not allowed access to any information.’

‘The musical movie wot I wrote, innit; been accused of cultural appropriation ain’t I.’

I urged him to explain.

‘Kid from the underclass, never seen a field or a horizon, parents junkies.’

‘And who was in the cast?’

‘Me and my mates, I sang and directed it, got crowd funding, great reviews, no trouble till the film festival. Then someone found out.’

‘Found out what?’

‘My parents are mega rich, sent me to Eton. I can talk like the royal family if I want to.’

I began to understand. ‘Of course, the Culture Police don’t think you could possibly understand what it is like to be from such a background.’

‘But I do, I used to sneak out of school to find real life, over to Slough or on the train up to London, but that wasn’t good enough for the authorities. There’s only one chance, you have to help me. I’m adopted, parents never told me. I found the adoption papers when I was going through their drawers to see where they kept their cocaine. If I get my DNA tested, if you can find out where I come from…’

‘It’s a slim chance…’ I tried to cheer him up. ‘Perhaps you’d better write about The Moon next time.’

He managed a laugh. ‘No way, the moon’s under copyright.’

sunshine-blogger

For more short stories, earthly and unearthly,

have a peek at this book.

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The Blog of Many Colours

sunshine-blogger

Times and Tides of a Beachwriter is brought to you today by Pink and Grey, suggested by Lyndsey at The Happy Book Blog. You can visit her blog here

https://thehappybookblog.home.blog/2019/04/27/353/

When Lyndsey suggested that colour combination my first thought was of galahs, Australian pink and grey cockatoos, their plumage a soft grey and rosy pink. They are found in most parts of Australia and have apparently adapted very well to the change in habitat brought by European settlers.

What other birds feature that colour combination? Wood pigeons are clumsy birds that splash all the water out of the bird bath and nearly break tree branches during their clumsy mating, but their plumage comes in delicate shades of pink and grey, blending imperceptibly.

Carnations have foliage that is almost grey.

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Out in the wilds or in the city,  grey rocks and buildings can turn a rosy hue at sunrise and sunset and if there are clouds in the sky at sunset there will be changing patterns of pink and grey. If I’m on the beach at low tide I try to capture the setting sun reflected in  in water that barely covers the flat grey sand.

For humans the two colours in their delicate shades make elegant outfits, or if you like to wear dark grey suits, splashes of bright pink look good. For the men? At a wedding the best man and ushers can look very smart in pale grey suits and pink ties.

So pink and grey, two hues created by mixing other colours, look good in nature and fashion.

Next week it is a bold primary colour that features, RED.

If you would like your favourite colour mentioned, put it in the comments.

… and here’s a book cover that has the shades of sunset…