Tuesday, 19 August 2014


Here are the guide lines for this week's WWBH for which we have two photographs to construct our short story.

1) Use the two photos in your story.
2) Keep your word count 500 or less.
3) You have until next Tuesday night to link up your story.
4) Use the Blue Link to add your story at: Leanne's, Debb's, or Tena's websites.
5) Have fun, don't stress, and let those creative juices flow!

Here is my story:


Isabelle breathed a sigh of relief as she slotted the edge of the frame into place; the last painting of her father’s was now ready.  It had taken her a few weeks to get everything organised and ready in time for the launch of her father’s retrospective exhibition.   

The paintings had been stored in the attic of his ramshackle and tumble-down thatched cottage in the depths of the countryside.  No matter how many times she had asked him if she could bring them down as she was caring for him during the last months of his life he always refused.  There will be time enough he had told her.  Time enough for you to dispose of them when I am gone.  Now you need to talk to me and play backgammon and cribbage all day long and cook my meals.

Isabelle was a bit taken aback until Florence, her dad’s neighbour, dropped in one afternoon for tea and to give her a bit of respite.  Florence told her that her dad didn't think his work was good enough to be seen by anyone else while he was alive.  Charlie suffered from low self esteem about his work or his hobby as he preferred to think of it.  

Along with her tears when her father passed away came the fear of what she might find in that elusive space under eaves of the roof.  Florence helped her bring all the canvasses down; together they sorted them into sections, landscapes, still life, portraits, animals etc.  Charlie had been quite the artist.  It was such a shame that nobody had the chance to see these paintings.  The two ladies looked at each other and had the epiphany that they would organise an exhibition. 

Several months later, a lot of late nights, worry and stress, everything was coming together and the date was fixed.  The Town Hall Assembly Rooms were booked, an opening night with wine and nibbles, invites to a few local dignitaries to attend, the local press would be there, then the exhibition would continue for a week.  

The next hurdle was what to wear. Isabelle and Florence wanted to project the right image, business like but not too severe, colourful but stylish, nothing in either of their wardrobes quite fitted the bill. 

Wednesday afternoon they travelled in to town to pay the deposit for the Assembly Rooms, as they left they decided to go for a pre-celebratory glass of wine and to de-stress on the issue of their attire.  On leaving the hostelry they turned left out of the door. Florence nudged Isabelle.  The shop window across the road displayed two outfits, complementing each other in colour with matching shoes.   

The old fashioned bell jangled as they opened the door, they both gasped as they took in the two outfits.   They fitted them like a dream, it was as though their fairy godmother had waved a magic wand and Florence and Isabelle could go to the ball.

Word count: 496

Tuesday, 5 August 2014

Terry & Dora

Here are the guide lines for this week's WWBH for which we have one photograph and five random mandatory words:

1) Use the photo and five random words in your story.
2) Keep your work count 500 or less.
3) You have until next Tuesday night to link up your story.
4) Use the Blue Link to add your story at: Leanne's, Debb's, or Tena's websites.
5) Have fun, don't stress, and let those creative juices flow!

The photo:

The five random mandatory words are:

Here is my short story:

The year had flown past and Dora and Terry patted themselves, figuratively speaking, and were triumphant to have confirmed the venue at this busy Christmas period.  The background of green fir trees with sparkling white lights was just the enhancement that Dora wanted, she knew that the December days could be a bit murky outside and it would brighten up their special day no end. 

Terry was looking forward to this day, he couldn’t believe he had such powers of persuasion, he was very proud of his lingual skills, oratory had never really been a passion of his, he called a spade a spade and didn’t use flowery language but his Dora was a cut above him, he had practised his proposal speech so much, felt so worried he would make a hash of it that he had felt sick for nearly a week before he popped the all important question.  When she said ‘yes’ he was ecstatic and knew   he was so very lucky to be married to her on this very special day.  

The only near disaster had been all the planning.  You wouldn’t believe how many people considered they had to be sat near the top table at the reception.  If they hadn’t got the seating arrangements fairly arranged there would have such squabbles over territory, who was going to be seated next to whom.  Aunty Ingrid had made her wishes very plain, so had Uncle Bert, let alone Dora’s grandmother, who at 92, still wielded the matriarchal rod.

Dora was her usual diplomatic self and somehow managed concoct a seating plan that everyone would be more than happy with.  Terry had breathed a huge sigh of relief as they got over that hurdle only to find out that the food for the reception was another bone of contention with their guests.  

Terry was near to saying to Dora, let me whisk you away, we could go to Las Vegas or how about that place in Scotland, you know, Gretna something.  Dora though was insistent that this time, this marriage was going to be the last one they both had and therefore everybody in their families were going to made to feel as though they were as special as themselves, the bride and groom. 

Of course Terry went along with all Dora’s plans and why wouldn't he as he still couldn’t believe that she loved him.  He knew he wasn't the world’s most handsome man and he could be a tad taller and maybe slightly thinner but he did love Dora with all his heart and she saw in to his soul and blended with him in a way he had never experienced before.  

It was just  the food left to organise.  Dora again came up with a brilliant idea, although Terry had never heard of the dish before, she said they would serve hasenpfeffer as a main course followed by delicious profiteroles.  Terry didn't really care, whatever made Dora happy made him happy. 

Word count: 497