A Cold War Nightmare

“Your ego is writing cheques your body can’t cash”, a great Top Gun quote and kind of how I’m feeling.

My fight with my demented monkey is not getting any better so I’m gonna make a strategic retreat and take a time out. I’m afraid to say that I just can’t multi-task and I’m suffering for it. I seem to have a lot going on at the moment and I’m struggling to keep up.

This is not good bye this is see you later, at least from a writing point of view. So as a parting gift I’ll leave you with a failed short story. I entered it into a competition after some persuasion but to no avail.

Maybe I’m just not a story writer. Still I wrote it so I’ll publish it like I do. My attempt at a 300 word Flash Fiction.

Hwyl Fawr Ffrindiau.

A Cold War Nightmare

It was all over the news. Chaos had ensued around him and all he could do was stand there at the edge of the shore.

He should have been thinking about other things, like life flashing before his eyes kind of things. Instead he stood mindfully watching the gentle tide ebb and flow around his feet as they sunk into the wet sand.

He didn’t think that morning that the day would end like this. End; such a resolute word, to end, to stop, to cease, he just didn’t care anymore. He couldn’t do anything about it because there was no more time.

No time to play games on his console. No time to go to the movies, No time to kiss and hug his loved ones and say goodbye. No time.

No more time because they were coming. That sound, that distinctive sound coming from the horizon, getting closer, getting louder. His mind was trying to distinguish it with something different to what he knew it was. A hurricane, a tsunami, a swarm of giant killer bees, anything with a chance of survival after the event.

Unfortunately, this was not natural; this was manmade by stupid, incompetent, childish Man. He giggled to himself ironically, as he thought ‘who am I to judge’.

He was soon pulled from his thoughts as the sound became something to look at racing across the sky and yet time seemed to slow down. It was such a beautiful day with the sun shining bright in a pale blue summer sky. Not a cloud could be seen to hide the horror that was about to envelope the world. Then silence.

Silence as he watched the first of the missiles drop from the sky and hit the sea with a blinding white flash and… The end!

 

Copyright © JRFC February 2019

Images from Pixabay, modified by JRFC.

 

My Special Guest tonight is…

Robert Burns and A Red, Red Rose

A Scottish poet and lyricist Burns was born in 1759 in Alloway, Ayrshire and was known by many names, my favourite or which is Rabbie Burns, I love that. He wrote his poetry in his native Scots language as well as in English. A man of many talents it would seem.

He is thought of as a pioneer of the Romantic Movement. Even after his death he became a great source of inspiration around the world. Celebration of his life and work became almost a national charismatic cult and his influence has long been strong on Scottish literature.

This lovely poem I thought suited the time of year. Although Valentine’s Day has passed is this not the month when we do the dance of love (and I’m trying to cheer up (forced smile)).

So I hope you enjoy this lovely poem, which I found read better with my imaginary Scottish accent.

A Red, Red Rose

O my Luve is like a red, red rose

That’s newly sprung in June;

O my Luve is like the melody

That’s sweetly played in tune.

 

So fair art thou, my bonnie lass,

So deep in luve am I;

And I will luve thee still, my dear,

Till a’ the seas gang dry.

 

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,

And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;

I will love thee still, my dear,

While the sands o’ life shall run.

 

And fare thee weel, my only luve!

And fare thee weel awhile!

And I will come again, my luve,

Though it were ten thousand mile.