James Field's Blog, page 31
May 9, 2020
In the last post: Dick Charmer wanted to rest and eat. His neighbour, Olive, wanted to flirt...
Dear friends, if you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the entire story when published.Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 07Dick Charmer flashed an icy smile at Olive. She lay on a sunbed in the neighbouring garden, sucked a cherry from its stick, removed her sunglasses, and winked.
A frustrated old housewife, he thought. The Stables teemed with pretty young girls, stinking rich too, who were much more to his taste. He gave a half-hearted wave, stifled a yawn, and hurried back indoors to eat and rest.
Today was Thursday, disco night at Ye Olde Inn. After weeks of hard labour on the terrace house roof, where he'd played loud music and cavorted for his audience of rich young girls, he knew they’d be desperate to dance with him.
Later that evening, just as the last blush of daylight faded, he closed his front door and made toward the sound of music. It drew him like nectar to a bee. Tomorrow, he reckoned his work on the roof would be finished, but tonight, the time had come to harvest his booty.
Luckily, the pebble road was dry after so many days of fine weather; his dancing shoes weren’t suitable for mud and soft dung. As he walked, his steps fell into time with the music’s beat, and his shoulders and hips began to swing and sway. He flexed his fingers and kissed each tip in turn. At the disco, he’d treat his doting fans to his best moves.
To be continued…
Image by Gerd Altmann from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
A frustrated old housewife, he thought. The Stables teemed with pretty young girls, stinking rich too, who were much more to his taste. He gave a half-hearted wave, stifled a yawn, and hurried back indoors to eat and rest.
Today was Thursday, disco night at Ye Olde Inn. After weeks of hard labour on the terrace house roof, where he'd played loud music and cavorted for his audience of rich young girls, he knew they’d be desperate to dance with him.
Later that evening, just as the last blush of daylight faded, he closed his front door and made toward the sound of music. It drew him like nectar to a bee. Tomorrow, he reckoned his work on the roof would be finished, but tonight, the time had come to harvest his booty.
Luckily, the pebble road was dry after so many days of fine weather; his dancing shoes weren’t suitable for mud and soft dung. As he walked, his steps fell into time with the music’s beat, and his shoulders and hips began to swing and sway. He flexed his fingers and kissed each tip in turn. At the disco, he’d treat his doting fans to his best moves.
To be continued…
Image by Gerd Altmann from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
May 5, 2020
In the last post: Bert's fiance, Olive, only had eyes for Dick Charmer, so Bert slouched away...
Dear friends, if you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the entire story when published.Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 06At five-o'clock in the afternoon, Dick Charmer climbed down from the terrace house roof. This is a strange place, he thought. Almost like stepping a hundred years into the past. They banned most motorised vehicles, and if you wanted to get about, you either walked or used a horse.
In ages past, it had been part of the Cloud Estate, a hamlet for the mansion’s servants and farm workers. These days The Stables was a private community for the privileged, especially pampered girls who owned their own horse or came for a riding holiday.
Humping heavy slate tiles and buckets of tar and cement in the blazing sun had left him exhausted. His stomach craved food and he needed a refreshing shower and doze. While renovating the roof, The Stables’s owners had let him occupy the end terrace house, a three-up three-down affair, simple but adequate. He passed through the dwelling and into the kitchen, took a beer from the fridge, and wandered out into the generous garden.
The house cast a blessed shade, but the air still hung on him like a heavy quilt. He glanced across the fence and saw Olive stretched out on a sunbed. She wore a pair of large black sunglasses and a yellow polka-dot bikini that was at least two sizes too small.
“Hello,” she called and raised a champagne glass, complete with a cherry on a stick. "Care to join me?"
To be continued…
Image by PublicDomainPictures from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
In ages past, it had been part of the Cloud Estate, a hamlet for the mansion’s servants and farm workers. These days The Stables was a private community for the privileged, especially pampered girls who owned their own horse or came for a riding holiday.
Humping heavy slate tiles and buckets of tar and cement in the blazing sun had left him exhausted. His stomach craved food and he needed a refreshing shower and doze. While renovating the roof, The Stables’s owners had let him occupy the end terrace house, a three-up three-down affair, simple but adequate. He passed through the dwelling and into the kitchen, took a beer from the fridge, and wandered out into the generous garden.
The house cast a blessed shade, but the air still hung on him like a heavy quilt. He glanced across the fence and saw Olive stretched out on a sunbed. She wore a pair of large black sunglasses and a yellow polka-dot bikini that was at least two sizes too small.
“Hello,” she called and raised a champagne glass, complete with a cherry on a stick. "Care to join me?"
To be continued…
Image by PublicDomainPictures from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
May 2, 2020
In the last post: Bert needed consoling: strutting cockerels are not interested in old hens like Olive, they prefer the young chicks...
Dear friends, if you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the complete story when published.Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 05Bert looked down at Morris, born leader and gardener, whose head hardly reached to Bert’s chest. “Thanks, mate. You always know how to say the right things. Come to think of it, you don’t look so good yourself.”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” Morris kicked a stone and pressed his hands deeper into his pockets. “I thought my turnips would win the prize for biggest example this year, but they didn’t. It’s enough to make me want to hang myself.”
“Yeah, me too." Bert hesitated before saying more. Morris wasn't the type to hang himself, and he'd miss him if he did. Best not to encourage him. Better to make him happier by giving a compliment. "You really cheered me up by saying Olive is a scraggy old hen that nobody wants—except me. Ain’t that right, Alf?”
Alf, his best friend and colleague, shrugged and spat. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Bert. I’ve known Olive longer than you and she’s always been a floozy.”
Not wanting to hear more, Bert slouched away. He squeezed between the dancing throng of ecstatic girls and tapped on Olive’s shoulder. “Cooee! It’s only me. Can I have a few words?”
“Not now, Pet,” she said, never taking her eyes from Dick Charmer. “I’m busy. Maybe later.”
Busy? Yeah, Bert knew she was busy all right: she'd pasted on make-up, fixed her hair, and drowned herself in pong; all for the sake of that showoff stud on the roof. Bert opened his mouth, but no sounds formed. Instead, he shook his head and plodded off home.
To be continued…
Image by Nina Garman from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
“Oh, it’s nothing.” Morris kicked a stone and pressed his hands deeper into his pockets. “I thought my turnips would win the prize for biggest example this year, but they didn’t. It’s enough to make me want to hang myself.”
“Yeah, me too." Bert hesitated before saying more. Morris wasn't the type to hang himself, and he'd miss him if he did. Best not to encourage him. Better to make him happier by giving a compliment. "You really cheered me up by saying Olive is a scraggy old hen that nobody wants—except me. Ain’t that right, Alf?”
Alf, his best friend and colleague, shrugged and spat. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Bert. I’ve known Olive longer than you and she’s always been a floozy.”
Not wanting to hear more, Bert slouched away. He squeezed between the dancing throng of ecstatic girls and tapped on Olive’s shoulder. “Cooee! It’s only me. Can I have a few words?”
“Not now, Pet,” she said, never taking her eyes from Dick Charmer. “I’m busy. Maybe later.”
Busy? Yeah, Bert knew she was busy all right: she'd pasted on make-up, fixed her hair, and drowned herself in pong; all for the sake of that showoff stud on the roof. Bert opened his mouth, but no sounds formed. Instead, he shook his head and plodded off home.
To be continued…
Image by Nina Garman from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
April 28, 2020
In the last post: Dick Charmer danced on a roof. A local committee of men watched, and they weren't impressed
Dear friends, if you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published.Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 04Bert, who had rushed outside straight from his bed, glared at the young man dancing on his rooftop. He saw how the young girls drooled over him as if he were a pop or film star. Even his fiancé Olive had started putting on extra makeup and taken to wearing her tightest clothes. “I think he’s a wanker, don’t we Alf,” he said to his best mate.
Bert looked down at his own massive body. A fully-grown male walrus might be proud of it, but not a gorgeous babe like Olive. Sadly, he could understand why she found other men more physically attractive, but she didn't need to make it so obvious. The way she'd joined the crowd and drooled over this randy newcomer made his blood boil.
“You look ruffled, my good friend,” said Morris, the Cloud Estate's dwarfish gardener and self-appointed general. "Haven’t you slept well?”
Bert’s best mate Alf laughed and punched his shoulder with enough force to bowl a normal man off his feet. “Bert’s worried about Olive. Thinks she’s gonna fall for that twit up there.”
“Huh,” said Morris, hands in pockets. He rocked on his heels and swung his potbelly to the music's deafening beat, “no need to worry yourself there, Bert. Strutting cockerels like Dick Charmer are not interested in old hens like Olive. They prefer the adorable young chicks.”
To be continued…
Image by PublicDomainPictures from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
Bert looked down at his own massive body. A fully-grown male walrus might be proud of it, but not a gorgeous babe like Olive. Sadly, he could understand why she found other men more physically attractive, but she didn't need to make it so obvious. The way she'd joined the crowd and drooled over this randy newcomer made his blood boil.
“You look ruffled, my good friend,” said Morris, the Cloud Estate's dwarfish gardener and self-appointed general. "Haven’t you slept well?”
Bert’s best mate Alf laughed and punched his shoulder with enough force to bowl a normal man off his feet. “Bert’s worried about Olive. Thinks she’s gonna fall for that twit up there.”
“Huh,” said Morris, hands in pockets. He rocked on his heels and swung his potbelly to the music's deafening beat, “no need to worry yourself there, Bert. Strutting cockerels like Dick Charmer are not interested in old hens like Olive. They prefer the adorable young chicks.”
To be continued…
Image by PublicDomainPictures from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
April 25, 2020
In the last post: Early one morning, Dick Charmer boom-blasted music from a roof. The girls loved it, but Bert would kill him...
Dear friends, if you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this fascinating series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays, I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published.Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 03As the sun rose higher and its warmth drew sweat from Dick Charmer’s energetic labour on the roof, he tossed his T-shirt aside, turned up the volume on his boom-blaster, and took a couple of minutes to dance. As on previous days, a group of spectators had gathered. Most of them were rich young girls who giggled behind their hands, danced wantonly, and called to say they loved him.
But today a group of men had also gathered to see what all the fuss was about. Among them were the Cloud Mansion’s two burly security guards, Alf and Bert. In front of them stood semi-retired Chief Inspector Dobbs, who owned a weekend cottage at The Stables, and beside him Vicar Bitter who lived in the small, disused chapel’s vicarage. At the front stood Morris, the Cloud Mansion’s pint-sized gardener and self-appointed General, hands in pockets.
“Yes,” said Morris, “I can’t find fault with his work. He’s made a good job of re-tiling the roof. Not so sure I approve of his modus operandi though.”
“It’s a sin the way he carries on,” said Vicar Bitter, and crossed himself.
Chief Inspector Dobbs tilted his head as if weighing evidence. “I’ll have my boys check him out.” He wrote a note in his notebook, dropped it into a pocket in his mackintosh, and then stabbed a finger at the hooligan. “I haven’t liked the look of him from day one.”
To be continued…
Image by GraphicMama-team from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
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’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
But today a group of men had also gathered to see what all the fuss was about. Among them were the Cloud Mansion’s two burly security guards, Alf and Bert. In front of them stood semi-retired Chief Inspector Dobbs, who owned a weekend cottage at The Stables, and beside him Vicar Bitter who lived in the small, disused chapel’s vicarage. At the front stood Morris, the Cloud Mansion’s pint-sized gardener and self-appointed General, hands in pockets.
“Yes,” said Morris, “I can’t find fault with his work. He’s made a good job of re-tiling the roof. Not so sure I approve of his modus operandi though.”
“It’s a sin the way he carries on,” said Vicar Bitter, and crossed himself.
Chief Inspector Dobbs tilted his head as if weighing evidence. “I’ll have my boys check him out.” He wrote a note in his notebook, dropped it into a pocket in his mackintosh, and then stabbed a finger at the hooligan. “I haven’t liked the look of him from day one.”
To be continued…
Image by GraphicMama-team from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
April 21, 2020
In the last post: Bert lives next door to his fiance, she wears his ring. But will the hunky young roof contractor steal her heart?
Dear friends, if you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this mind-boggling series. On Tuesdays and Saturdays I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published.Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 02Dick Charmer swung himself up the scaffolding ladder. He used his right hand to grasp the rungs, while his left arm steadied a ghetto blaster balanced on his shoulder. He wore cycle shorts and stretchy T-shirt. If the weather remained warm, he’d discard his T-shirt and flex his muscles for the young girls. They loved to glare at him.
Straddling the roof of the terrace house’s crown, he surveyed his work. He’d re-pointed two of the three chimneys, and the roof tiles were now neat, clean, and whole. By the weekend, he’d be finished and ready to collect his wages.
He glanced at his watch, five-past-eight, time to wake folk. Some of The Stables’ workers were already out and about, feeding animals and grooming the horses. But most of the guests were sleeping or eating breakfast in a converted barn.
With the boom blaster perched on a chimney, he selected the most modern of his pop music and turned the volume to full. The rafters rattled in time with the bass, and he swung both his hammer and his hips to the driving rhythm. He knew big fat Bert slept in the house below, but paid no heed. There was no way that ugly brute could climb the ladder to get at him.
To be continued…
Image by REDQUASAR from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
Straddling the roof of the terrace house’s crown, he surveyed his work. He’d re-pointed two of the three chimneys, and the roof tiles were now neat, clean, and whole. By the weekend, he’d be finished and ready to collect his wages.
He glanced at his watch, five-past-eight, time to wake folk. Some of The Stables’ workers were already out and about, feeding animals and grooming the horses. But most of the guests were sleeping or eating breakfast in a converted barn.
With the boom blaster perched on a chimney, he selected the most modern of his pop music and turned the volume to full. The rafters rattled in time with the bass, and he swung both his hammer and his hips to the driving rhythm. He knew big fat Bert slept in the house below, but paid no heed. There was no way that ugly brute could climb the ladder to get at him.
To be continued…
Image by REDQUASAR from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
April 18, 2020
In the last post: Eerie Eve ended. Beginning today is another astounding story, Enchanter on the Roof...
Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. If you like a good chuckle, dim-witted heroes, and larger-than-life villains, then you'll love this mind-boggling series. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. This is the first part of ‘Enchanter on the Roof.’ Enjoy!Enchanter on the Roof ® James Field. Part 01Bert lay in bed, wide-awake, with his eyes closed and palms resting on his heart. He often suffered from heartburn, but the agony throbbing deep inside his ribs this morning was far worse. It was a pain that no medicine could ease.
He rolled his head and stared at the bedroom’s brick wall. On the other side, no more than a foot away in the house next door, lived the love of his life. “Olive,” he whispered, and the sound of her name brought a flood of moisture to his eyes. “When will you be mine?”
Olive was the most beautiful creature that walked the earth. She was a make-up expert and her face was always dazzling and colourful and it took her hours to paint it on. Come to think of it, he’d never seen her without it. And she wasn’t afraid of displaying her voluptuous body either. The trouble was, even though she wore his engagement ring, she seemed more interested in other men than him.
It didn't surprise him. He knew he was no prize: hulking in height, grossly overweight, brutishly strong, and with a grim face that terrified the living daylights out of most people.
Just then, as Bert’s Big Ben alarm clock chimed eight, he heard the sound of Dick Charmer outside. The dashing young contractor climbed a scaffolding ladder and walked across the roof. Bert’s two massive Alsatians growled and he clicked his tongue at them. “Yeah, I hate the bastard too. How’s about I kill him and you two eat him, bones and all, get rid of the evidence?”
To be continued…
Image by Thomas Wolter from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
He rolled his head and stared at the bedroom’s brick wall. On the other side, no more than a foot away in the house next door, lived the love of his life. “Olive,” he whispered, and the sound of her name brought a flood of moisture to his eyes. “When will you be mine?”
Olive was the most beautiful creature that walked the earth. She was a make-up expert and her face was always dazzling and colourful and it took her hours to paint it on. Come to think of it, he’d never seen her without it. And she wasn’t afraid of displaying her voluptuous body either. The trouble was, even though she wore his engagement ring, she seemed more interested in other men than him.
It didn't surprise him. He knew he was no prize: hulking in height, grossly overweight, brutishly strong, and with a grim face that terrified the living daylights out of most people.
Just then, as Bert’s Big Ben alarm clock chimed eight, he heard the sound of Dick Charmer outside. The dashing young contractor climbed a scaffolding ladder and walked across the roof. Bert’s two massive Alsatians growled and he clicked his tongue at them. “Yeah, I hate the bastard too. How’s about I kill him and you two eat him, bones and all, get rid of the evidence?”
To be continued…
Image by Thomas Wolter from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
April 14, 2020
In the last post: Morris and Alf returned to Sibyl's kitchen, ashamed they found no toadstools for her. Alf boasted he ate one...
Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. This is the last part of ‘Eerie Eve’. Next up is ‘Enchanter on the Roof.’Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 33Sibyl turned back to the frying pans and flipped the eggs and bacon. Her well-padded shoulders bounced in silent amusement.
"What?" said Alf, nausea rising in his throat. "So I ate a tiny little toadstool. I'm going to be all right, aren't I?"
"Oh yes, mostly. But..." Laughter stifled her words and it took a moment before she could continue. "But if there's ever another full moon on the ninth day of September, you'll be so love-struck that you'll have to go searching for your lady troll."
It was then Morris noticed his wicker basket, still packed with toadstools, on a shelf above Sibyl's head. "Ah," he said, suspecting how she might have obtained them.
Alf followed his gaze and sunk into a dining chair. "Huh! How did that get there?"
Sibyl swaggered across the stone floor, a loaded plate of food in each hand. After placing one in front of each man, she wiped her hands on her pinafore, released her hairnet, swished her hair loose, and clapped them on their backs. "You boys care to tell me your version of why you're both so tired?" Her nose suddenly seemed longer than usual and her pupils had grown beady. She blinked at them, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Had the company of Husminx, maybe?”
"I'll tell you about it later," mumbled Morris, which was his way of saying: let's not talk about it. All he wanted was to forget the night and his cowardly behaviour as best he could.
The end.
Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
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’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
"What?" said Alf, nausea rising in his throat. "So I ate a tiny little toadstool. I'm going to be all right, aren't I?"
"Oh yes, mostly. But..." Laughter stifled her words and it took a moment before she could continue. "But if there's ever another full moon on the ninth day of September, you'll be so love-struck that you'll have to go searching for your lady troll."
It was then Morris noticed his wicker basket, still packed with toadstools, on a shelf above Sibyl's head. "Ah," he said, suspecting how she might have obtained them.
Alf followed his gaze and sunk into a dining chair. "Huh! How did that get there?"
Sibyl swaggered across the stone floor, a loaded plate of food in each hand. After placing one in front of each man, she wiped her hands on her pinafore, released her hairnet, swished her hair loose, and clapped them on their backs. "You boys care to tell me your version of why you're both so tired?" Her nose suddenly seemed longer than usual and her pupils had grown beady. She blinked at them, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Had the company of Husminx, maybe?”
"I'll tell you about it later," mumbled Morris, which was his way of saying: let's not talk about it. All he wanted was to forget the night and his cowardly behaviour as best he could.
The end.
Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
April 11, 2020
In the last post: neither Alf nor Morris admitted to being accosted by a troll; some things are best left unspoken...
Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. ‘Eerie Eve’ is drawing to a close. Next up is ‘Enchanter on the Roof.’ Starting soon.Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 32Side by side, Morris and Alf walked back through the forest. At the rear side of the mansion, Morris took his rucksack from Alf, almost toppled under the weight, and swung away toward the kitchen door.
"I'm coming with you," said Alf. "I need one of Sibyl's potions for me headache."
So did Morris. But the kitchen smelled of egg and bacon, and he’d rather have the food than one of Sibyl’s disgusting concoctions. There had been no time for breakfast at his campsite.
"Hungry?" asked Sibyl. She glanced over her shoulder, and when she saw Alf cracked six more eggs and dropped ten extra rashers of bacon into two separate cast-iron frying pans. "Either of you fancy mushrooms?"
Morris glanced at Alf and saw his own lack of enthusiasm reflected there. "No thank you," they said in unison.
Sibyl half turned and studied them. "I see," she said. "No toadstools for me?"
Morris slid his hands into his pockets and let his shoulders roll forward. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, and flopped into a chair at the table, "but clouds covered the moon at midnight. There were no toadstools that I could see."
"I found one," said Alf, expanding his chest.
Both Morris and Sibyl stared at him.
"Only a small one," said Alf, displaying its size with his fingers.
"Yes," said Sibyl, "what did you with it?"
"I ate it."
Sibyl's eyebrows shot up and her jaw shot down. "You did what?"
"I, eh, ate it. I'm going to be all right, aren't I?"
To be continued…
Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
"I'm coming with you," said Alf. "I need one of Sibyl's potions for me headache."
So did Morris. But the kitchen smelled of egg and bacon, and he’d rather have the food than one of Sibyl’s disgusting concoctions. There had been no time for breakfast at his campsite.
"Hungry?" asked Sibyl. She glanced over her shoulder, and when she saw Alf cracked six more eggs and dropped ten extra rashers of bacon into two separate cast-iron frying pans. "Either of you fancy mushrooms?"
Morris glanced at Alf and saw his own lack of enthusiasm reflected there. "No thank you," they said in unison.
Sibyl half turned and studied them. "I see," she said. "No toadstools for me?"
Morris slid his hands into his pockets and let his shoulders roll forward. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, and flopped into a chair at the table, "but clouds covered the moon at midnight. There were no toadstools that I could see."
"I found one," said Alf, expanding his chest.
Both Morris and Sibyl stared at him.
"Only a small one," said Alf, displaying its size with his fingers.
"Yes," said Sibyl, "what did you with it?"
"I ate it."
Sibyl's eyebrows shot up and her jaw shot down. "You did what?"
"I, eh, ate it. I'm going to be all right, aren't I?"
To be continued…
Image by OpenClipart-Vectors from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
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’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
April 7, 2020
In the last post: High in the branches of a fir tree, Alf wakes with a hangover and Morris wants to know why he's up there...
Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. ‘Eerie Eve’ is drawing to a close. Next up is ‘Enchanter on the Roof.’ Starting soon.Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 31Morris watched as Alf freed his trouser belt and then untangled his robot. After taking a firm grip on the fir tree's trunk, Alf kicked the robot loose and it bounced through the branches and crashed to the ground in a heap. Then Alf climbed down, agile as a monkey, and stood before Morris. "Got any water?" he croaked.
Morris waved a hand in front of his nose and took a step back. "What in God's name have you eaten? Smells like troll shit." He plucked a bottle of water from one of the rucksack's side pockets and passed it to Alf.
After emptying the bottle, Alf's mouth remained tight, as if he could still taste something bad. Then he gave a quick, disgusted snort. "Trolls? You and me should know. There ain't many people in this world who's met a troll—like what we have."
Morris heard the sarcasm in Alf’s words but decided not to respond. When neither of them knew what had happened to the other, and how they had reacted, he felt that his honour was saved.
"I'll come for Crusher later," said Alf. "His hydraulics sprung a leak." Before Morris had a chance to scrutinise the robot, Alf swung Morris's rucksack onto his broad back and marched off.
To be continued…
Image by Christian Dorn from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
Morris waved a hand in front of his nose and took a step back. "What in God's name have you eaten? Smells like troll shit." He plucked a bottle of water from one of the rucksack's side pockets and passed it to Alf.
After emptying the bottle, Alf's mouth remained tight, as if he could still taste something bad. Then he gave a quick, disgusted snort. "Trolls? You and me should know. There ain't many people in this world who's met a troll—like what we have."
Morris heard the sarcasm in Alf’s words but decided not to respond. When neither of them knew what had happened to the other, and how they had reacted, he felt that his honour was saved.
"I'll come for Crusher later," said Alf. "His hydraulics sprung a leak." Before Morris had a chance to scrutinise the robot, Alf swung Morris's rucksack onto his broad back and marched off.
To be continued…
Image by Christian Dorn from PixabayThe real world:Rather than miss an instalment, it’s easy to follow my blog on
bloglovin
’. They’ll give you a friendly nudge as I release new parts.
Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
