It’s Tuesday, and that means Colleen’s Tanka Challenge! Of course, just providing a couple of words would be far too simple, so we have two words, yes, but we can’t use them! Only synonyms allowed!
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “where.” Start your post with the word “where” and write whatever comes to you. Bonus points if you end your post with “where” too. Enjoy!
Where do you think I am, right now?
Actually, if you are a regular reader, you might just remember me mentioning it in my Chai catch up on Monday. (Don’t cheat and find the post – I’m just about to tell you…)
I am in Birmingham for the weekend. (As in the real Birmingham, not the one named after our original Brum in 1871!)
Birmingham is my home town. It’s where I was born. And when I die, there will be a plaque, somewhere here saying “Birthplace of famous writer, Ritu Bhathal (nee Padhaal)”
What?
I can dream, can’t I?
Where was I?
Oh yes, I’m back home, spending a couple of nights with my Pops, kids in tow, before he ventures out to Finland, to join my mum, and his wife, who has been gallivanting helping to look after the grandchildren out there.
No matter where I live, I have to say, Birmingham will always be home to me.
Home A place Where I fit A place where I Feel comfortable Always an open door Where all is familiar No matter what the address is You see, my true home will always be The place where I find my Pops and my Mum
Ritu 2019
Yes, my marital home is home too. But it’s a different kind of home and comfort. Another home filled with love.
But my childhood home was filled with so many precious memories, that if you want me to be honest about where I call my home… thats’s where…
August 8, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about a poisoned apple. Let’s explore dark myth. Deconstruct the original or invent something new. Negotiate the shadows, shed light, but go where the prompt leads you!
The Bad Apple
April bit her blackened lips in frustration. Just how long was mum going to go on and on about her clothes. All she wanted to do, was get out of the house.
She absentmindedly rolled a corner of the rug back and forth
with her clumpy boots.
“April! Stop doing that to my rug! Honestly. I don’t know what’s
got into you. It’s like those friends of yours have just brainwashed you.”
She rolled a heavily khol-lined eye. The doorbell rang.
“I’m going, mum.” She turned. “And just remember, they say the apple never falls far from the tree.”