Free Write - the Desk

 

 

This week's Free Write prompt was a photo of Rick's and my desk bought from a Depot Vente and hand carved in Collioure, France. Age is unknown.

D-L's Free Write

April 14, 1776 Concord, Massachusetts

"The British are coming." A man's voice and a knock was at the tavern's door. 

Anne was feeding a concoction of herbs to her teenage son. He had wakened her saying he was sick.

Jonathan, her husband, sat in the corner not able to go back asleep.

"My horse is lame," the man at the door said. "I'm warning people the British are on their way."

"They'll probable be looking for those cannons, those damned rebels stole from Boston last month," Jonathan said.

He and Anne were at loggerheads ever since the colonists had dumped perfectly good tea in Boston Harbor. She hated those lobster backs as she called the British soldiers. He thought they all should be loyal to King George.

He needed his horse to plow the field.

We need the cannons to defend ourselves," Anne said to him. Although she was a woman she could shoot well as well any man and had tried to join the militia. They had her loading the rifles, nothing more.

"I don't even know your name," Jonathan said. "Why should I trust you with my horse?"

"It's William Dawes. Early last night there were two lanterns hung in the Old North Church steeple. That told us the lobster backs' direction."

"Mama, I'm going to be sick again," Nathanial said.

Anne grabbed the leather bucket. It would be hard to wash. At least if their son was sick, he wouldn't be shot by the lobster backs.

Rick's Free Write

Usually I dream in full color. Technicolor they used to call it for television when I was growing up in the 1950s and 60s.

But last night my dream was more duotone, a sort of beige mixed with white or light gray. And it was as if I was seeing through a gauze curtain. Everything and everyone in the dream was somewhat indistinct. No clean edges.

My dream was of a rustic pub, perhaps in medieval times, perhaps in the south of France. A large fireplace for warmth but also with an iron stove for heating food and beverages. Tough-hewn wooden beams to hold up the ceiling. Wine barrels stacked against the wall. The floor was cut stone, mostly even.

And elderly woman in a headscarf and apron was serving bread and a tankard of wine to one patron at the premier table by the fireplace. Maybe the mayor of the village. Was that a mustache? Near the barrels, two men chatted - one small and meek, the other larger, wearing a flat cap and nursing a pipe. Their table was a barrel, the seats half barrels.

There was a bowl on the floor for a dog, but no mutt in sight.

No evidence of a musician either; it was probably lunchtime, too early for happy hour. 

Julia's Free Write

She always dreamed of finding a treasure chest.

As a little girl her dad would draw map with very simple instructions, mostly pictorial so that her little brother could play too. There might be all of four clues followed by a fifth where the treasure could be found. Simple treasures indeed: perhaps a cookie, a small package of M& M’s.

Older she found “treasure” in the discovery of books and reading. She loved puzzles, not only the physical, but also crosswords, number combinations and the like.

Then came the teenage years where “treasures” on top of books and puzzles were new friendships, new talents. Opening an organ was the treasure of losing sorrows and heartaches in music or literally stomping on the pedals in noise and jubilation.

She left home, left school and moved half-a-world away.

Her parents having sold the house said, “come and get the boxes in the attic or they’re going out”. More treasures to be rediscovered, cherished and taken with her.

But here she was in a strange town, a different home and again in an attic.

There it was, perhaps the best treasure of all; a hand-carved wooden chest. What would she discover this time?

Creak…..

Rick Adams is an aviation journalist and publisher of www.aviationvoices.com, a weekly newsletter reporting the top stories about the airline industry. He is the author of The Robot in the Simulator. AI in Aviation Training.  

Visit D-L.'s website  https://dlnelsonwriter.com, is the author of 15 fiction and three non fiction books. Her 300 Unsung Women, bios of women who battled gender limitations, can be purchased  at https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/300-unsung-women-d-l-nelson/1147305797?ean=9798990385504 

Visit Julia's blog. She has written and taken photos and loves syncing up with friends.  Her blog can be found: https://viewsfromeverywhere.blogspot.com/