Future Love

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My take on the Prompt-Love from last week’s Flash Fiction competition at Scribblers.

 

Modigl,iani Young Girl Seated

Young Girl Seated
Date: 1918; Paris, France

 

Aurora stepped into the library and began to peruse the aisle market Classics. In 2118, paper books were only found in libraries. She liked to feel them, and turn the pages, instead of swiping the arrows on her digital appliance. The old worldly smell of the books fascinated her, and as she flipped through the yellowed pages, she wondered how many pairs of eyes must have read the words printed on these ancient tomes.

The title of the book said Sonnets, rhyming words that sounded like a lullaby. One word kept re-appearing, love, something she had to find out about.

The robot librarian approached her and scanned the tablet in his hand. “Aurora Ellis, your preferences show you’re into sports and inter-galactic thrillers. You must be in the wrong section. I’ll guide you to your favourites, away from these dusty antiques.”

Aurora fluttered her eyelids. “I’m doing a research on this ancient concept called poetry.” She pulled out her tablet from her backpack and showed the robot her assignment, signed by her instructor, Mr Shelby.

The robot studied the validation and replied in his monotone electronic voice. “I see. If you need any more help, I’ll be around.”

Aurora took a deep breath and silently thanked Basil, her classmate, for hacking into the school system to create a false assignment.

Love was a word from her recurring dreams that had begun to haunt her. It wasn’t a concept learned at home or taught at school. Mr Shelby talked about the poets from ancient times and how they composed an arrangement of words in a certain rhythm. Musical, with a set measure, that somehow stayed in her memory, like the lyrics of songs she heard on old recordings.

Why was love so important then, and not so, now? What was the difference between like and love? Aurora liked her friends, her parents, the books she read, and the games she played with or without her classmates. Did she like them all the same? She decided some were stronger. She liked her parents more than those of her friends’, and her friend, Alma, more than the other girls. Basil was her favourite among the boys.

She scanned the shelves and found a book titled Famous Quotations, inside which there was a section called Quotations on Love. She took the book to a table and began to read.

Soul meets soul on lovers’ lips. – Percy Bysshe Shelley, Prometheus Bound”
We love the things we love for what they are. —Robert Frost, Hyla Brook ”

Aurora read for a couple of hours, trying to memorize the quotes and copying the longer ones onto her tablet. When she left the library, her head was full of love. Yet, she had to experience the warmth, the spark and the feelings the ancients talked about. Someone had said, “Love is the most profound human feeling.”

She ran to Basil’s house, and once inside his room, she quoted: “You are my North, my South, my East and West, my working week and my Sunday rest.” 1

“What, are you mad?” Basil said, rolling his eyes.

“I’m quoting from W.H. Auden.”

“You’ve been reading too much poetry. Get real!”

“I am real. I love you, Basil,” she said and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Basil pulled back and blushed. She could see the spark in his eyes and feel the warmth that spread throughout the room. Aurora giggled and rushed home.

Her mother met her at the door. “Where have you been, Aurora? You’re late.”

“I was at the Library, Mum. Reading.” Aurora wrapped her arms around her and whispered in her ear. “I love you, Mummy.” Her mother patted her back, lifted her chin, and looked into her eyes. Teardrops landed on Aurora’s face.

“I knew you’d find it, ” she said. “It’s our secret.”

Aurora experimented the power of love on her best friend, her pets, and on her father the following day. The results were the same. Sparks in their eyes, warmth and comfort. They shared her secret. She remembered a quote from The Little Prince. The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart. 2

No wonder the Leaders were trying to turn humans into robots. They were afraid of the power of love, but they didn’t know humans carried it in their hearts since the beginning of time, regardless of restrictions, and shared it only with the ones they loved. Shakespeare was right.

Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no; it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark…
3

Aurora dreamt of love at night and the quotes that would guide her throughout her life. The secret she would pass on to the next generations for the most profound feeling humans are capable of experiencing.

 

References:
1 The Little Prince, by Antoine de Saint-Exupery
2 W.H. Auden, “Stop All the Clocks”
3 Sonnet 116, William Shakespeare

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#OMP #OneMillionProject #Thriller #Fiction and #Fantasy Anthologies are on Amazon

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OMP Photo

 

#OMP #OneMillionProject #Thriller , #Fiction , and #Fantasy Anthologies are on Amazon, in Kindle and paperback editions. I have contributed a story, #MummysTorchlight ,  to the Thriller Anthology, along with many other writers from around the world.

All proceeds will go to cancer research and homeless charities..

 

 

 

A gripping short story collection by 40 authors from around the world, who have come together to raise money in the fight against cancer and homelessness.

All OMP proceeds will go to cancer research and to homeless charities.

Help us to raise a little sunshine in the lives of people less fortunate than ourselves through the power of words.

 

 

A fabulous short story collection by 40 authors from around the world, who have come together to raise money in the fight against cancer and homelessness.

All OMP proceeds will go to cancer research and to homeless charities.

Help us to raise a little sunshine in the lives of people less fortunate than ourselves through the power of words.

 

 

 

A fantastic short story collection by 40 authors from around the world, who have come together to raise money in the fight against cancer and homelessness.

All OMP proceeds will go to cancer research and to homeless charities.

Help us to raise a little sunshine in the lives of people less fortunate than ourselves through the power of words.

My Review of My Name is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout

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My Name is Lucy Barton

 

It’s been a couple  of days since I finished reading this book and I have been thinking about it since. What makes this book so gripping, almost haunting? It’s certainly not the plot, but definitely the voice of Lucy Barton that conveys the feelings of loneliness and isolation, and her attachment to her past, her family, her parents, and her present, her marriage and her daughters. Written in sparse language, accentuated with repetition to deliver her state of mind, her stream of consciousness, we get glimpses of Lucy’s life, her relationships or lack of relationships, and read between the lines. What is not said is poignant, as well as what has been said. A childhood deprived of love from her parents, poverty, and isolation from  the main stream of life. Lucy begins to read books to escape into another world and stays at school to do her homework to keep warm, rather than go home to the cold garage where her family lived during most of her childhood. Lucy is a good student and she breaks free from her past after her college education.

From Amgash, Illinois to Manhattan, New York, Lucy’s life changes, but the past remains with her as we gather from her conversations with her mother at the hospital where Lucy stays after an operation that has gone wrong. Lucy’s mother spends five days with her while they talk about the people in her hometown. Lives that have gone wrong, people who did well, yet experienced unhappiness in the end. Lucy hasn’t seen her mother for many years and she doesn’t see her for many years afterwards, until she visits her mother at the hospital where she dies. Lucy loves her mother, but her mother is unable to say “I love you.”

As well as the many characters from Amgash, Illinois, there are two important people in Lucy’s life that shape her career as a writer. Sarah Payne, the writer, and Jeremy, the sophisticated neighbour who dies of AIDS. Lucy loves her daughters and does not divorce her husband until they leave home. Yet, what her daughter, Becka, says afterwards is something that will stay with her all her life.

Her past is what makes Lucy. The fact that she comes from ‘nowhere’ is something her mother does not accept. It is also the reason that isolates Lucy from her new surroundings, and her husband. Jeremy says she needs to be ruthless to be a writer. Sarah Payne says, “You’ll have only one story. You’ll write your one story many ways.” Lucy knows if she doesn’t divorce her husband, she will never write another story. She finds another man who comes from ‘nowhere’ and embraces her life, her traumas, her dark side.

 

 

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/2294446004

 

Locations from Ripples on The Pond Söğüt (Soghut), Marmaris

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söğüt-marmaris-söğütte-ne-yenir

 

Soghut, a pretty seaside village on the eastern coast of the Southern Aegean, beguiles newcomers with its stunning views of the islands in the cove, and the Greek island of Symi in the background.” 1

 

sogut-3

 

Söğüt (Soghut), a sleepy fishing village on the shores of the Southern Aegean is one of my favourite places in the greater Marmaris area. The scenic route to get there from Marmaris is well worth the ride, as the flora slowly changes from pine forests to shrubs, olive groves, and almond trees.

 

Söğüt 11

 

“A well-kept secret, with exquisite villas on the hills, it had been recently featured in Exclusive Escapes.  The article gushed:  the unspoilt beauty of its shoreline boasts of a small restaurant called The Octopus Man, renowned internationally for Ali’s unique recipe.2

 

Sogüt 1

 

It is the setting of a story called Selma of Soghut. An inhabitant of the village I came across on one of my visits became my inspiration for Selma.  I don’t have a picture of her and I’d like to keep her identity secret because the story is a figment of my imagination.

 

Sögüt 10

 

I met Selma during a walk on the pebble beach after my first scrumptious grilled octopus lunch at Ali’s. An old woman with striking blue eyes, a small, upturned nose and delicate features on her weathered face. In a printed dress that swayed with the warm breeze and a white scarf wrapped around her frizzy, grey locks, she greeted me with a toothy smile.

“Hello, are you visiting?” 3

 

Söğüt 9

 

Söğüt is still innocent, laid-back, and peaceful. It’s one of the few places in the area where mass tourism hasn’t taken its toll. There are only a handful of small hotels, fish restaurants, and modest village shops.

 

Sögüt 8

 

I hope it will continue to preserve its unique charm and remain as a tranquil spot for the yachters and visitors who come by land to enjoy its natural beauty and friendly inhabitants.

 

Söğüt Marmaris

 

123- Excerpt from Selma of Soghut, Ripples on the Pond

Ripples Thumbnail smaller

Ripples on the Pond

Contributors Corner; blog post from Euphemia Hood.

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Loriya literature

I couldn’t re-blog this, so I copy pasted the blog post and gave the link at the end, to continue reading.  Many thanks to Rachel Sarah Glasgow for the lovely review of Ripples on the Pond.

  • By RACHEL SARAH GLASGOW
  • 21 Jan, 2018
  • 0 Comments

Ripples on the Pond, Ruta, and, The Rymor and I; part 1.

      I, along with Loriya Literature, am incredible lucky to have such a list of talented contributors present for the magazine and other forms of literature. I will tell you about the expertise of three of these contributors today, two of which I hold a connection to in regards to the origins of my adult writing. I wonder will know of the Authonomy site, aside from the members that is; it was indeed a very useful and exciting platform for writers.

Around six years ago I joined this site, and it was this act that gave me the confidence to go full force into the world of writing and publishing and everything that goes with it: Sebnem. E. Sanders and Kit Masters were also member and they are the two I talk of. Joseph Ippolito being the third contributor to be discussed today, a law unto himself.

Throughout this blog post I will take three pieces of work and begin to review them; however, to do these works justice this is the first part of the review, I will continue to post about these works, part one being the first quarter.

 

Sebnem. E. Sanders:

 

Sanders is offering a plethora of short stories up unto the magazine and newsletter which will only go to enhance the quality, if the fast pace and entrancing style of the anthology Ripples on thePond is anything to go by. Which, indeed it is.

You can find Ripples on the Pond via this link:

https://www.amazon.com/Ripples-Pond-Sebnem-Sanders-ebook/dp/B077XCK3SD/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1515824590&sr=1-1&keywords=ripples+on+the+pond+sebnem+e+sanders

 

The reader is thrown straight into the deep end of literary excellence with Ripples on the Ponds first offering, Through the Wings of Time , the subject matter concerns a journey through space and time, examining the differences and similarities between the ages: My Pagan nature very much appreciates the delve into the wonders of the broad expanse of time.

      I dip into time and try to exercise timelessness .

From, Through the Wings of Time.

      The reader is left pondering the question of who they are. It is easy to know who we are whilst tied to the shackles of gravity but once we experience the spirit and see past our own present life; then, who do we become? What now is our identity?

      The End and the Beginning, seems to finish off the anthology. Yet, once you have read this strange and unusual spiritual message you will understand that reality dictates that there is in fact no beginning and no end. Death is birth, and birth is death, to paraphrase the tale, we only think to the contrary through what we are taught and conditioned to think.

Forever eternal

spiral ripples

echoes,

Spreading outward

forming bigger circles

 round and round

blending into the stardust

Forever eternal.

From, The End and the Beginning .

      The body of the book does not disappoint, not least the gut wrenching tale Mummy’s Torchlight, so easily read yet so hard to take in, it paves the way for the title line whilst following the reader into their subconscious thereafter. It highlights in stark honesty Domestic Abuse and the dangers faced by the victims; but to add to the tragedy of Mummy’s Torchlight it also looks to the side of the abuser and the reasons why: Mental ill health and the lack of the appropriate resources to treat an individual quite often lead to an escalation of events. This is not to say that all who suffer mental ill health are to become abusers. I would never make such a rash generalisation. But, when the system fails the patient, it also fails everyone around them.

 

Please click on the below link to continue reading the rest of the article:

https://www.loriyaliterature.co.uk/contributors-corner-blog-post-from-euphemia-hood

Sanity

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Matrixpill

 

How to hold on to my

sanity

in the middle of

insanity

Should I ignore the

madness

despite the overwhelming

sadness

Maybe direct my thoughts to

puzzles and crosswords

instead of

the troubles and the theatre of the absurd

sensible,

calm and composed

rather than

impressionable,

vulnerable and disposed

Does that make me blind

or wise and unexposed?

 I wish to change things

but lack the power to pull the strings

Rather than sulking and arguing

I plot secret steps to alter

the course of events

despite various

counter -arguments

In the end virtue prevails

though the virtuous suffer

and expire

in the dungeons of greed and fire

who wins is a question of time

while sanity versus insanity

become partners in

crime

 

matrix media.caspianmedia.comimagedcd44a372ff811a0f0e1a4b32302bf38-217d5b1db10af881b072e2c1b119c0a7d23866a1

 

Photos from The Matrix,  http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0133093/

Mummy’s Torchlight

I’m re-blogging this because #OMP is featuring #MummysTorchlight from the soon to be published #OMPThrillerAnthology, today via #Wattpad.

sebnemsanders

Mummy's Torchlight IX

Cover by David J. Meyers

Here’s the link and the blurb to a short story I posted on Wattpad and submitted to OMP, One Million Project, for their Thriller Anthology.  (2,700 words) 

Toby waited for Mummy, but she never came back. Uncle Jim and Aunt Doris told him she was in Heaven. Why did Mummy go there without him? Why couldn’t he go to see her?
He kept Mummy’s torchlight safe, to guide him through the darkness, knowing she’d watch over him.

Mummy’s Torchlight

https://www.wattpad.com/447960743-mummy%27s-torchlight

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