Controversy #SaturdayPrompt

Inspired by https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/controversy/

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“No, you won’t do that, and as you well know, if you did, you’d be on your own!” The statement sounded pretty final, so I stayed silence: from then on I’d have to demonstrate I understood where I stood, in the order of things.

And I did. So we are, in a state of cease-fire, neither war, nor peace. I have made-up my mind of course, but I won’t risk a return to this controversy: I value the silence, the long lazy mornings, the quiet evenings. Is this wisdom? Or is it cowardice?

Picture: Orange, Helsinki, 2015, via osmaharvilahtiosmaharvilahti.tumblr.com

 

Instinct #WritersWednesday

The source of all wisdom…

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You are away, the old instinct is awake, the walk in the park, a chill wind playing with dead leaves: my soul is hiding, without you… Crocuses shine, defiant, as clouds mask the sun.

You are away, I bathe in solitude, hunter no more, guessing at the dance in the skies, sacred world, surrounded by such beauty, sinner, well on his way to purgatory, or worse?

You are away: instinct prevails, the blank page stares at me, provoking, icy-cold.

The lake is alive, it’s just me: half way there, between heaven and hell.

Photo: Rehberge, Berlin

Record

The Prompt

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The interrogation went on for hours, as he answered the questions, seemingly endless and random, but he knew, designed to catch him lying. He would not lie. There was no point. The truth would be denied, of course, but someday, what was on record would be known, and his innocence recognised. Some day.

Photo: Münster, Lamberti Kirche, die Täufer

 

Abstract #Prompt

The Prompt

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The rain falls over the City, cleansing the ground, rendering a soft glow on the coloured roofs; people walk, attentive, checking their steps to avoid puddles. The sound of traffic is muted, the jackdaws fly higher, in deep reflection. It is as if time was slowing down, as if the City was pausing, observing, maybe wondering what this strange abstract picture of our lives really means: is the past catching up, melting our present into the unfathomable future?

The rain falls, and we become part of the painting, already absorbing the bright colours of Spring.

Image: M.C. Escher, Puddle, 1952. Woodblock print. Via: http://szobel.tumblr.com/

Heard #DailyPrompt

The Prompt

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“Some of it is noise, even white noise, like a slow motor running empty… But sometime you can hear voices, far away, so it is hard to catch words, or even understand what language is spoken. And then there is the notes, the tunes, the sound of instruments one cannot put a name on…”

I was listening carefully, without seeing the person who was speaking: a melodious and calm woman voice, of an older woman, I thought. The place was one of those small, dark and ancient bars, this one hidden from view in a small courtyard, in a part of the city well off the beaten and touristy tracks.

“You have to be patient, give it time. At first you may not hear much, just a little vibration, like light wind in young leaves in Spring. But then you hear: steps, and again voices. If you are lucky, one of them may notice you, and start talking to you, personally. Of course you have to tune in, and be very patient. Then, all of a sudden, you understand: someone is talking to you, you, across those eons of time, across the immense void that separate their world from yours…”

I tried again to see who was talking. A coal fire was slowly burning in the old chimney, I could not see much through the smoke. I ordered another beer. As the girl brought it to my table, I asked her about the speaker. “You’re talking about old Lucy,” said the youngster, amused, “well, she’s here with the same story most evenings. She used to be an archeologist, she’s talking about one of the sites, somewhere in the Middle-East… She claimed to have heard voices, as she says… The poor lady got herself abducted by bedouins as she worked there, and reappeared here, years later… You know, she’s lost it, somewhere in the desert, all those years back….”

Image: © Nick Stevens

Scent

The Prompt

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I love walking in the park, nor so far from our place, early morning, when one meets nearly no-one, bar a few crows and some brave joggers. So, today, I was surprised to see him, a joker-like character, visibly still made-up from last night party, or some other odd activity, whose ludicrous attire could not fail to attract attention. He was looking out toward the lake, and its frozen surface where, later, some skating enthusiasts would perform.

Something in his posture reminded me vaguely of other encounters, for which I did not care much. He saw me, and immediately tried to hide his face: I walked deliberately in his direction, and he walked away, a crooked flight I knew too well…

Abruptly, he started running in the direction of the canal, and I decided not to follow. In his trail floated the inescapable proof: a sharp scent of sulphur.

This, after all, is the City of Faust…

Image: The Joker @http://www.fanpop.com/clubs/the-joker/images/8895447/title/nicholsons-joker-photo

Replacement

The Prompt

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“If you had a choice,” she said in her most serious tone, ” between this human life, and its inevitable end, and becoming a cyborg, a machine, stainless, and forever serviceable…?

“Do you mean, you are considering… swapping me for a more dependable model?”

We laughed, perhaps we had been influenced by stories of the Golem, perhaps this was her way to say I was due for a refit!

“Just consider,” I decided to counterattack, “all these wires and bits and bobs to contend with, and then the doubts in your mind about what I really feel about you!”

“O, she said, I have all that anyway, maybe not the wires, but the doubts! Who would not, being married to a writer!”

Photo: Rabi Loew’s Golem, @jmberlin

Tempted #Sunshine #Rehberge

From the cheeky crew…

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A ray of sunshine, a reflection on the fresh snow: it is so tempting to think of the new year, and of Spring! Yet we are in winter, souls are hiding from the cold winds behind long coats and wooden scarves, the days are short. Only the ducks appear to be quite at ease in the icy water of the canal. We know it will come, after many other days of staying indoors, just popping out when the sun comes out…

Photo: Plötzensee, Berlin Wedding, © 2017 Honoré Dupuis

Pillage #DailyPrompt #WritersWednesday

So much to see, so little time…

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History walks along the quiet streets, ghosts hide in the corridors of museums: our steps resonate in the night, so much to explore… The story ripens, enriched by the findings, tombs of soldiers, standing knights in corners of baroque churches, damsels hidden in wooden scarves and dark mantels. Renaissance painters, medieval crosses, Japanese swords, enough material for many books.

Will there be time to pillage so much wealth?

Photo: Alte Museum, Berlin – © 2016 Honoré Dupuis

Fortune #DailyPost

Sharing is Caring

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We are but small pebbles in the midst of a big storm, rolling, rolling, until we fall into the great void. On the way we hold on to our memories, our feelings, our fears, our hopes. Sometime, for a few seconds, we encounter peace. It does not last, pebbles are not made to rest.

Photo: Böcklin, Toteninsel