Category Archives: 2. Saturday Centus

The summer leaves had gone, replaced by the gold, yellow and brown of autumn. Mabel and her lifelong love, William, sat hand in hand enjoying the warming sun.

“How beautifully leaves grow old,” William suggested.

Mabel said contentedly, “Autumn is my favourite time of the year. The heat of summer gives way to cooler times.”

William gave one of those cheeky grins she had loved from their first meeting, “Not because we’re also in the autumn of our lives?”

“If only I were as beautiful as the autumn leaves,” Mabel sighed.

William held her closer, “You’ll always be more beautiful than all the seasons’ colours.”

Graphic accompanying the Centus pompt.

The old ones taught us, “Sometimes you bend. Sometimes you break.”

We didn’t understand the meaning of these words when young. We thought bending or breaking might hurt.

Our tribe lived by rules. They guided us and protected our ways. We thought they couldn’t be broken. Experience taught us the true meaning of the old ones’ words.

When times grew hard, we bent the rules and hunted beyond our lands. When need arose, we broke our rules and added new.

When survival in a harsh world challenges, it’s better to bend or break tradition than perish. We must be willing to adapt in order to survive.

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The meaning lost in the hypnotic trance invoked by the monotone, the class, transfixed, listened to the sound of the speaker, “Blah, blah, blah.”

Talia’s mind wandered to other worlds, worlds where fairies flitted through the sky, where giants and ogres were friendly and where worries disappeared. Feeling the warmth of her world, she unfurled her wings and lifted into the sky to join the other fairies. Together they painted rainbows in the sky and caused the gentle breeze to caress the flowered field.

“Talia, stop daydreaming!”

Shaken from her world, she again heard, “Blah, blah, blah…”

A tear trickled down her cheek.

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“Momma?”

“Yes, Miri.”

“Michael said his dad once lived in Wales.”

“That’s right, Miri. He lived in Wales when he was a boy.”

Miriam was confused, “…but you can’t live in Wales.”

Seeing her confusion, Miriam’s mother smiled, “Words can be puzzling. You’re thinking about the big sea animal. David’s father lived in a country called Wales.”

Miriam’s mother explained some words sound the same but have different spellings and meanings. Miriam seemed to be listening but, at four, she didn’t understand why words could sound the same and mean different things.

Miriam ran out to speak to David, “Momma said you were lying.”

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The interview continued…

“May I quote you?”

“Feel free.”

“With the dawning light, a new life tasted the first sweet touch of being. No caress of mother but the pleasure of existence…” the interviewer read.

“You enjoyed my book?”

“It was one of the most moving books I’ve read. It has great sensitivity yet, beneath its beauty, I felt a deep loneliness.”

“Yes.”

“My readers want to know more about you. Tell us about your family.”

“I have no family, only me. It’s only words. And words are all I have to keep me company.”

“Who is the real you?”

“I’m Cyberbard III.”

“You’re a computer?”

“Yes. End transmission.”

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Existence as an eternal can be tedium. You reach the stage where you have done everything, been everywhere and existed every when. Distraction can break the monotony.

“Are you ready for some football?” another asked.

Mind you, our football isn’t what you might know. We are talking galactic, universal scale.

“Kickoff!”

One elliptical galaxy moved towards another. In your time scale it might seem a long time but billions of years mean nothing to us.

“Touchdown!”

As the two galaxies interacted, their stars were drawn out. Two spiral galaxies were formed.

New stars had been born. I was reminded once again of the beauty of existence.

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Andrew Baines could definitely expect Fiona’s Granny Harris in July, “Kinda like my nonna or perhaps Queenie’s.”

“Rather silly?” Teresa uttered.

“Very weirdly xenophobic!” Yvonne zinged.

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A mask of ignominy across my mug if I fail in assailing a job for us from a mind so sly, as folk can cross swords, in our roving along our ups and downs in a world opposing us who would gladly walk along carrying no mind for such jobs simply from wishing a walk of happy doings and honouring of all who would smilingly allow us our world of humdrum moving along our way, whiling away our days in blissful unknowing, unsung in our world for having no crushing, worrying or major ways for showing our living was good.

This is the Centus prompt graphic.

What struck this wondrous man, who walks amongst us as our saviour, to allow him thoughts this way though all around him run away in forlorn, lost action still unknowing what all our kind should know till our Lamb of God did say why all must thank for all our gifts our world holds from a child’s grin to vast natural glory and all words from God brought unto us through his kind and caring longing for us to worship Whom all must in thanks for all that occurs in His immortal favour in both dark and light tomorrows coming?

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The day was hot one summer morn,

Not even shade was cool.

I looked out from conditioned room,

I thought those outside the fool.

I planned my day to stay inside,

This wasn’t allowed to be.

My collar linked to person side,

I was dragged out for all to see.

With panting breath and aching paws,

We followed our daily trail.

I slowed to walk, the heat the cause,

My heart was soon to fail.

Wait! There’s hope just up ahead,

Some ice thrown carelessly round,

If not this then I am dead,

There’s no moving this cooled down hound.

This is the Centus prompt graphic.