Thursday 12 October, 2023
This story came from a Writers’ Circus challenge on the theme ‘Harvest Festival’.
In the 1960s when I lived in Govanhill near the Synagogue in Bellisle Street (a tiny sanctuary now long closed), my Mum was the cleaning lady cum ‘manager’. This entailed the duty of opening the Synagogue for morning and evening prayers and quite often I would be delegated to perform the evening duty. At this time I was a late teenager with dark Beatle’s hair and a straggly beard.
The worshipers, mostly elderly men wearing long coats and felt hats, would arrive on foot in drabs and drabs hoping for a minimum of TEN men (a ‘Minyan’ (meen-yon)) to enable prayers and scripture readings to be performed at their evening ritual. Those who did not know me would scold my bare head with:
“YARMULKE! YARMULKE!”
In the autumn, in a tiny garden beside the Synagogue, they would build a (deliberately) flimsy structure, a shack-like tent where the worshipers crowded say prayers and sing unaccompanied to celebrate the Festival of Tents (Sukkot).
Armed with this memory, this story wrote itself.
More info at: https://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/4784/jewish/What-Is-Sukkot.htm.
Thursday 12 October, 2023
This tale came from a Writers’ Circus challenge.
We were sent a copy of a photograph of a statue which stands at the entrance to Glasgow’s Gallery of Modern Art (GOMA).
In this snap, the Duke of Wellington is Wellington astride his warhorse Copenhagen. On Wellington’s head he has a red and white traffic cone. Glasgow humour.
This image rattled around in my head until we arrived at Scone, Stirling in our caravan for a few days. We had hoped to go to Blair Atholl Caravan park but it was FULL due the the Blair Castle Horse Trials.
The story wrote itself.
Tuesday 19 September, 2023
This is a tale written while holidaying in our tiny caravan at Silverdyke Park near Cellardyke, in the East Nuek of Fife, (September 2023).
The idea came from noticing spider activity and their desire to hide indoors as autumn turned to winter.
From Cellardyke we had a great view of the Isle of May.
Suspend your critical faculties and enjoy this fantasy tale of the tiny Clan Deft spiders as they seek to outwit their huge Clan Brag spider neighbours.
Saturday 19 August, 2023
This story was prompted by a Writers’ Circus topic ” An Appointment”.
When an idea came a calling and the story began, it wrote itself.
The tale is bout living through the trials of later life: disappointment, bereavement, facing loneliness and finding new friendships.
Thursday 13 July, 2023
This story was written for a Writers’ Circus challenge entitled “Outside in”.
It is a compilation of snippets from conversations with my grandon Drew (7) as we travel from his home to football training.
Monday 15 May, 2023
This story is a response to a Writers’ Circus challenge for May 2023:
“Write a story in 100 words inspired by “Sliding Doors.”
Thursday 13 April, 2023
This story was written for the Writers’ Circus on the topic of ‘Home Coming’.
The deadline for submission was looming and I had only a vague idea what I wanted to write about.
We were on a short break to celebrate our 51st wedding anniversary.
When I saw Castle Stalker and Lismore Island, the story wrote itself.
It is about a woman from Canada who brings her parent’s ashes to scatter in Scotland.
However, there was a problem. It did not have a proper ending.
My friends at Writers’ Circus urged me to ‘finish it properly’.
After a further week of mulling it over, re-reading what I had written, the ending came.
Wednesday 12 April, 2023
During a recent short break to Port Appin, I saw this poster and at once the seed idea for this daft story took root.
Monday 20 March, 2023
Sometimes when we are on our travels an idea occurs and I reach for my iPad and begin tapping.
Most of these snippets don’t ‘take’ and languish unfinished.
Looking for something else in my iPad library, I found this one and thought it worth polishing.
I hope it might amuse, over a morning coffee?
Sunday 19 March, 2023
This story comes from a Writers’ Circus challenge entitled - ‘The Day After’.
Indeed for most of the time I was crafting this, I called it ‘The Day After the Night Before’ until a different title suggested itself from the dialogue.
It is set in 1955, in the West of Scotland, in Motherwell which at that time was a thriving steel town.
The characters are middle-class, twin sisters competing for the best of two brothers.
In true Peoples’ Friend style it is full of twists and turns and flew easily from my noddle onto the screen, keeping me amused as the story told itself.
I hope this fun comes across and that you enjoy it too.