Little Robin

by Shelley Miller

 

THANK YOU FROM A GRATEFUL WORLD.

By Rosemary Clarke

By being a carer
You make the world fairer
By doing your best
You put us to the test.
By playing your part
You make us all start
To love and to feel
A world that is real.
You make better things
That's where healing begins.

Thank you to Carers everywhere; where would we be without you?

 

Abbalar Tales ~ 32

 Abbalar Tales ~ 32 Awakening 1

By Len Morgan

It all happened so quickly, the crowd were stunned, some hadn't even settled to watch the spectacle.

"You have been exonerated by combat" the Arbiter's announcement was followed by silence, then gravity caught up with the corpse and it tumbled slowly down the steps with a metallic sound like a tinker selling pots and pans.   There was some nervous laughter and the spell was broken, the crowd roared its approval of the outcome.   After several minutes of pandemonium the Arbiter held up his arms for silence, the noise continued unabated.   He rapped continually on the hollow slab stone with the butt end of his staff, until the noise, subsided a little, like tidal waters breaking on a shingle beach, then to a low hum, and finally to a hushed expectancy…

"Who will the victor name as Regent!" he asked ritually.   Every ear strained to hear what he would say.

'Now is your chance man,' he thought. 'speak your own name, say it now!'   The child within him cried out “Ahlendore!”    He smiled and held up his hand, "The man I champion is the best equipped to lead our people forward into a new age, his name is…" he staggered back, knocked from his feet by the force of an arrow now protruding from his chest.   He looked along the line of its trajectory straight into the manic eyes of Bedelacq, in the shallow guise of Fazeil, the bow still vibrating in his hand.   The crowd followed his gaze, surprise turning to anger in an instant and they became a mindless mob.   The look in the eyes, now definitely Fazeil's, turned to dismay then horror as the mob turned on him.   No single person could be held responsible for his death, but they tore him limb from limb, what remained was unrecognisable as a human corpse.

In the confusion that ensued Asba was able to reach him and push the shaft all the way through his body, it hurt, like hades, as much as anything he'd ever experienced in his lifetime, bringing tears to his eyes.   Aldor took the book from Asba's hands and thrust the arrow into it with all his strength, then clasped it to his chest, it appeared he'd had a lucky escape the arrow had entered the book instead of his body.

The Arbiter knelt beside him. First a look of concern then one of relief crossed his face in rapid succession.   Aldor opened his eyes as if he had been stunned.

"Paveil" he whispered, then louder, he yelled "the new Regent is Paveil."

Aldor regained his feet as one of his guard escorts ran towards him, shedding his helm gauntlets and armour as he came.   The Arbiter noticed and recognized him at once as Regent Paveil, and hurried to meet him.

"Are you alright?" Paveil asked, genuine concern on his voice.

Aldor nodded, "The sun is gone, my friends may already be dead, but I must try to save them," he said.

"To horse,"   Asba yelled waving to a distant helper "Elroed, we need to reach the Northern Reaches in haste," he called.

They rode hard, but long before reaching the Northern Reserve Veinen and a heaven full of stars were in plain view.  

   Asba and Aldor entered the Portal.   Aldor, filled with trepidation for what he might find.   He owed Genna so much.   Skaa, though not what he would call a friend, had earned his respect, he was brave and he stuck to his principles.

'How are they?   Are we in time to save them?'   Were the thoughts he directed towards the machines in the control center.  

'They live still, but time is important, seconds count.   The man is experiencing extreme agitation.   You cannot simply awaken them, they are too far extended.   You will have to enter their dreams and make them aware that they are dreaming.   Take care, you could also die in such an intense dream state.'

"I can help only one at a time, how do I choose?" asked Aldor.

"You must help the man, he knows you," said Asba "I will go to Genna, she is one of my chicks, I need to have physical contact with the subject but I can communicate as well then as I can with the machines," Asba explained taking her hand.

"Aldor made the decision, do it!" He said.

.-…-. 

Asba cast his mind back to a memory of Genna's childhood:

"Help me Asba, I need you to help me please, he's back!"   The child cried out in the night.

Asba had always lived on the fringes of the city, but never alone.   His had always been an open house, a haven for the hungry the helpless, the lost, and destitute.   Home to orphans and runaway's the waifs and strays, who without him might not have survived. He taught them to be resilient and strong. 

"There, there, sweetness nothing will harm you, Asba is here,"   He stroked her brow soothing her fears.   Brushing her hair, stroking and soothing the periphery of her mind.   He became aware of a presence, a shadowy figure, fast retreating.

"Hold fast," he commanded.   The figure stopped and turned, "Who are you," he demanded.  

The figure simply leered at him in dumb insolence, then drew a knife, and lunged at him.  "She's my child, you'll never wrest her from me," he cackled.   

The knife slashed towards Asba's throat.   At the last instant, his reflexes took over and deflected the strike.   He felt a stinging pain on the back of his hand an instant before his own blade, slit her stepfather's jugular, ending her nightmares forever.   He looked down in surprise at the gash extending from above the wrist to the first joint of his index finger, where the skin had curled under but had not yet started to bleed, reminding him it was not simply a child’s dream.  

He remembered, that the very next morning the spindly seven-year-old Ginna had sought him out.

"Thank you for saving me from that evil man," she said, "I'm sorry he hurt you," she kissed his bandaged hand and he smiled.

"Off to school with the others Genna," he'd said.   "You owe me, so you must work hard at your lessons to repay your debt."

He looked down at the white scar on the back of his hand.   He gazed upon the face of the beautiful young woman lying on the cot.   Kneeling down beside her, he placed his palm on her brow and closed his eyes.

.-…-. 

The night was black. No moon or stars in the sky. Rain fell in torrents as the storm reached a crescendo stinging his exposed skin.   Skaa fancied he was covered with red impact blotches but couldn't confirm it, the darkness was so complete.   Except, when a lightning flash whipped through the sky like a malevolent tongue, briefly illuminating his surroundings confirming either that his course was true or that he needed to change direction.

For some time he had sensed a presence but had failed to locate where.   He was aware of the inadequacy of the flimsy summer clothes he was wearing but had not had the time or opportunity to change into something more appropriate.   He smiled and immediately felt the chill lessen.   He heard rustling from the bushes somewhere over to his left; he felt something brush against his leg, possibly a small animal disturbed by the storm.

Aldor saw, by the next lightning flash, Skaa's silhouette stumbling through the scrub, breathing heavily.   "I see you have lost your limp," he said.

Skaa halted, turning in mid-stride to confront the young man approaching.  

"What in Lyandra's name are you doing here?   Thought I left you at the pillars of Orden."

"So you did.   You know who I am?"

"Of course.   You haven't changed much in four months."

"A little over a month in real-time Skaa." He said, "this is merely a dream."

"How could you know that?"

"Cast your mind back to your last memory prior to arriving here." Said Aldor.

"I - I can't remember…" he became confused, surprised, and agitated."

"Who were you with prior to your arrival?"

"Th - The witch-woman had taken control of my men.   I was locked in a cellar…   No, I escaped from there, it's all misty…" said Skaa.   He began to sweat, my brain hurts, "I - don't.. can't remember."

"Think man, where did you escape to.   What city were you in?"

"I - We, can't remember, he shook his head.   Corvalen…" he said surprising himself.

"Amnesia," said Aldor, "did you get a bump on the head?"

"I remember a… long tunnel.   We followed a boy…   It was dark?.   Umm, a young woman was with us, Genna was her name…"

"How far away is Corvalen?" Aldor asked.

"It must be many hundreds of miles from here, it would take weeks to cover that distance," said Skaa.

"Then how did you get here?   Did you walk or ride, and where did you stay on that journey?   Or, did you simply take a leap into darkness and arrive here?"

"Yes," said Skaa with a strange look in his eyes.   "I would trust you to speak true but, if I am dreaming, you are part of my dream.   Therefore, I must already be aware that this is a sleeping state, he reasoned the fact.  That I am not aware is very worrying…"

"I have been sent in to awaken you, or the man I knew as Skaa-Bae is that you?"

"It is."

You have already slept for four days and survived, which is more than most would consider possible.   The longer you sleep the less likely you are to awaken naturally.   The dream will deteriorate into a nightmare and finally into a state of madness.   It doesn't look exactly welcoming now.   If either of us is killed or harmed in this dream it is very likely it would have adverse effects on our bodies in the real world.   What say you we simply awake and visit a few liquid shrines."

"I'm not sure how that can be accomplished."

"Close your eyes and recall what you were doing immediately before you arrived."

"It isn't working, and my pursuers are coming." There were now obvious sounds of a hunting party coming nearer.   "Do you have a weapon, mine was taken from me in Corvalen.   That's it! You are correct, this is a dream.   I would never travel so far without replacing my sword!   It’s so simple," said Skaa shaking his head in amusement.

"Hold out your hand." Said Aldor, and a sword materialized.   Aldor drew his own weapon.

"No need," said Skaa closing his eyes again.   He felt momentary disorientation then, on opening his eyes, found himself, in the Northern Reaches, alone. 

(To be Continued)

Copyright Len Morgan

 

Haiku From the heart

By Robert Kingston

daisy wheels...

children make racers

with split leaves

 

in the lorry’s wake
blossom
tracing shadows

beneath the blue lamp
I choose to dream
of summer

 

a week spent...
watching the orchid
unfold

Copyright Robert Kingston

First published by the Japan Society

 Changing Worlds 

By Sis Unsworth

She could no longer bear the pain, the trauma deep within.

The world she knew was changing, and she could never win.

Leaving her familiar life, to venture out alone,

To taste and feel the freedom. That she would call her own

The grasp and touch reality, reluctantly moved on,

The safe protected life she’d known, would be forever gone.

Unwillingly did she cry out, as her past life they did sever,

the sheltered world that she had known, alas was gone forever

Evicted from her comfort zone, her destiny now unknown,

She did then sense a feeling, she would not be there alone.

Saw and heard such strange things, she’d never known before, Bewildered by a special worth, she felt and yearned for more.

Now she knew she must adapt, leave one world for another,

As the midwife gently placed her, in the safe arms of her mother.

 

Copyright Sis Unsworth

 

PITY ME.

By Rosemary Clarke

Pity me no holiday
All the skies look drab and grey.
I really want to go abroad
Now I'm sitting here so bored.
I'm going to rebel; yes I must!
All this closing up is unjust!
We need to have friends around, be free!
Why do they never think of ME?

Pity him all alone.
Because of Covid he's on his own.
His wife, with drips and feeds inside,
does not resemble his lovely bride.
Lives his life from day to day,
praying that she'll be OK.
Really who are WE to moan
WE have people who COME HOME.

Copyright Rosemary Clarke

FOOD FOR THOUGHT

By Peter Woodgate 

The loving was fine whilst illicit

For years it kept smouldering away

But someone found out what they were about

And told him that he’d have to pay.

 

Divorce, so he thought, made him happy

It gave him the chance now to wed

The women he’d kissed and so sorely missed

When they weren’t together in bed.

 

And so, side by side, but now legal,

They discussed mundane things such as food.

“My Ex,” he would say,” with eggs had this way

Of making them taste oh so good.

 

Well his new bride was not too impressed

She disliked his degrading remark

It appeared, in her eyes, she was not such a prize,

And that marriage was only a lark.

 

From then it grew worse by the day

She felt he could not now be trusted,

She hadn’t a clue if he was now true

And thought him a two-timing bastard.

 

They tried to patch up their poor marriage

And booked in at a five-star hotel

But whilst eating lunch it came to the crunch

They could not now put up with this Hell.

 

They went back to their room for a rest

But the row continued to smoulder,

He grabbed hold of his wife and extinguished her life

Smashing her head with a boulder.

 

The moral of this sad TRUE story

Is think before signing the book

And if marrying again then please make it plain

That she is the best ever cook.

Copyright Peter Woodgate