Month: May 2017

Stories by Sarah

Track Record

Sarah W

Pacing from end to end of the platform, keeping warm while I waited. I shook my hands, trying to get the blood flowing. It was another crisp morning. With despair, I felt the first few drops of rain, and stood underneath the scaffold of a nearby hedge, seeking shelter. I really hope that damn train is on time today, I thought. Our line was notorious for delays and cancellations.

I noted the other passengers, all three of them, were eagerly checking their watches and straining for signs of an approaching diesel engine too.

Across the still air, dampened by the wet ground, we heard it. Not a toot, more of a blare. Sounding impatient and eager to get here. Within minutes, we saw the headlights and felt the suction of the wind being drawn toward to the approaching XPT.

4:47am. 2 minutes late, but very good, considering the track record.

I wrenched open the carriage door for Car D. Looking at my ticket, I checked my seat number for the third time. D10. Nope, hadn’t changed since last I looked. Ambling along the narrow aisle I strained to see the seat numbers. The carriage was in full darkness and the lumps of passenger silhouettes, told me everyone was sleeping.

From the other end of the carriage I saw a small beam of light. It was a woman in a NSW Rail uniform, waddling down to assist me.

“What number are you love?” she asked.

I showed her my ticket and she shone the torch towards the correct location.

“Thanks,” I replied, gratefully, however once I got there, I became aware there was a problem. Lying across my seat, and hers, was a young lady, fast asleep. The train began to move, leaving the station. Light from the town street lights flickered on her briefly, illuminating her. She was small and willowy, her clothes shabby and torn. I noticed she appeared thoroughly beaten down by her short time on this earth. Or maybe she was stuck in a mimeomia.

“Um, excuse me, that’s my seat,” I said gently, not wanting to scare her.

No response.

“Hello, miss?” I tried again.

Nothing.

Suddenly, from behind me I heard the NSW Rail woman’s voice bark loud and authoritatively, “Sit up now please!”

The girl jumped up, sleepily pulled herself upright into her chair and mumbled an apology.

Cringing with embarrassment, I took my seat.  The train rocked and swayed, dancing with the tracks as we sped our way to Melbourne. I pulled out a nectarine from my backpack and proceeded to wolf it down. A meagre breakfast substitute until the buffet car opened at 6am.

In the seclusion of my mind, I wondered what else the day ahead would bring.

By Sarah ©2017


Image courtesy of Pixabay



* Mimeomia (n.) the frustration of knowing how easily you fit into a stereotype, even if you never intended to, even if it’s unfair, even if everyone else feels the same way—each of us trick-or-treating for money and respect and attention, wearing a safe and predictable costume because we’re tired of answering the question, “What are you supposed to be?”

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Wordle #157 and Daily Post Daily Prompt, Word: cringe

Words used: blood, scaffold, despair, seek(ing), nectarine, wolf, woman, willowy, aware, beaten

Stories by Sarah

First Frost

Sarah W

My eyes popped open as the alarm screeched, hammering my brain. Noooooo! I thought.

I peeled back the covers and promptly pulled them back over myself again. It was FREEZING. I snuggled back in, pretending I hadn’t heard the clock. I tried to go back to sleep but guilt kept my mind from such joy.

“Are we getting up?” my husband asked, after a few minutes.

“I don’t want to,” I replied.

“Come on. It won’t be so bad,” he promised. “Count of three?   1…2…3…”

We threw off the covers and bravely jumped out of bed. I began hopping from foot to foot, as the cool tiles stuck to my soles. I frantically tugged off my pyjamas and put on my active wear, ready for our daily morning walk. I considered my usual cap and opted for a beanie instead.

We opened the front door and the icy chill hit. It was straight from the antarctic. Although the sky was still dark, the moon reflected on the sparkling, shimmering frost that coated the blades of our front lawn. There was no going back now. We crunched through the ice leaving green impressions of our shoes behind us.

As we hit the footpath, I was so grateful I had chosen the beanie. We breathed out and steamy clouds escaped our mouths. It was at least 0 oC or below and perfectly crisp.

“First frost for the year,” my husband observed.

“Mmmm, hmmmm.” I answered, unable to unclench my teeth long enough for a more eloquent response.

I shivered as we walked along in the foggy early morning. My fingers numb, my nose running and my limbs stiff from the shock of the cold. Our footfall echoed in the still air. Each step, an effort.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~   ~  ~  ~

Twenty minutes later we arrived back at our house, green footprints still visible and guiding the way. As I opened the door, I felt enormous relief that it was over.

We made ourselves coffee and porridge for breakfast. The warmth from the coffee thawed my frozen digits as I cupped my mug. The oats seemed to radiate from my belly, heating my core. I began to feel human again.

As I looked over at my husband, content, I said, “The first frost is always the worst.

He grinned and replied, “Sure is. Same time tomorrow?”

By Sarah ©2017


Image courtesy of Pixabay

Prompt: Daily Post Daily Prompt, Word: observe, frantic, shimmer, foggy


Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah

The Sacrifice 

Sarah W

the redhead was struck
blackened and withered
she falls away from my hand
no matter
her job is done
I watch intently
satisfied
as the flicker becomes a flame
the radiant glow of her sacrifice.


By Sarah ©2017


Image courtesy of Paul at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Author’s Note: Redheads is an iconic Australian brand of matches originally manufactured in Richmond, Victoria by Bryant and May but now manufactured in Sweden by Swedish Match. It is the top-selling brand in the country.

Prompt: Daily Post Daily Prompt, Word: radiate, radiant 

Poetry by Sarah, Shadorma

Whispers in the Willow Trees

Sarah W


Image courtesy of Pixabay

its bough bends
with outstretched fingers 
to trail through 
the water 
and whisper to fish below 
‘carry me with you’


By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: MLMM Writing Prompt #209, “It’s All In The Title”

Scribblings by Sarah

A Jolly German Baker

Sarah W

A phone call woke me early this morning.

As everyone knows,  no good news is ever delivered in these hours. I saw it was my mother ringing and guessed the reason why.

“Grandma passed away last night, at about 11pm,” she stated matter of factly.

This was not a surprise. Grandma had been in a steady decline for weeks. 

Although I was never close with her, the strongest memory I have of her is busy in her kitchen. She was always a jolly, German baker eager to feed the masses. We loved nothing more than scrambling into her house and checking out what baked goods she had laid out for us when we visited. The house was always infused with the smells of her cooking and our absolute favourite pastries were always the vanilla kipfel, apple strudel and krapfen. 

In memory of her, I wanted to share today, a recipe for German donuts (krapfen). 

This recipe is sourced from: http://12tomatoes.com/german-doughnut-recipe-krapfen-with-raspberry-jam/

Krapfen with Raspberry Jam (makes 10-12 doughnuts)

Ingredients:

4 1/2 cups all-purpose flour 
1 cup milk 
1 1/2 oz. fresh yeast 
1 teaspoon salt 
6 tablespoons butter, melted 
1/3 cup sugar (melted)
lemon peel
5 egg yolks, beaten 
Shortening or vegetable oil (for deep frying) 
Raspberry jam 
Powdered sugar (for decorating)

Directions:
1. Let yeast soften by allowing it to soak in 1/4 cup of warmed milk. Set aside. Heat remaining 3/4 cup milk so it’s lukewarm, then combine it with 2 1/2 cups flour, creating a smooth mixture. 

2. Next, combine the yeast and flour mixtures. Cover with a towel and allow mixture to rest in a warm place for about 30 minutes. Then mix in a teaspoon of salt, knead the dough, and cover it for another half-hour. 

3. Once it has risen (it should have doubled in size), combine with melted butter, lemon peel, sugar, egg yolks, and the rest of the flour (2 cups). 

4. Lightly flour a surface. Roll out your dough so it’s about 3/4 inch thick. Then cut out “doughnuts” with a 3-inch round cookie cutter or a glass/cup of about that size. 

5. Spread a heaping teaspoon of jam on half of the rounds. Cover them with the other half of the dough rounds, crimping the edges. Then cover the doughnuts once more with a towel for about 15 minutes. 

6. Heat oil to about 350 F in a large saucepan or deep fryer. Fry a few krapfen at a time, letting each side brown for 2-5 minutes before flipping onto the other side. 

7. Remove from deep fryer and place on a thick paper towel to drain. Roll doughnuts in powdered sugar (or sprinkle some on top) while they’re still hot. 

8. Enjoy!


Image courtesy of Pixabay 


Rest in peace Grandma 💜

Pantoum, Poetry by Sarah

Toilet Humour

Sarah W

Lost in my thoughts
As I stumbled along
Didn’t see I was off course
Didn’t know I was wrong

As I stumbled along
As drunk as could be
Didn’t know I was wrong
I just needed to pee

As drunk as could be
I pushed open the MENS door
I just needed to pee
A man! Accidentally, I saw!

I pushed open the MENS door
Didn’t see I was off course
A man! Accidentally, I saw!
Lost in my thoughts.

By Sarah ©2017


Image courtesy of Tuomas_Lehtinen at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Prompt: MLMM Saturday’s Mix 27/5/17, Theme: spying, unintentional witness