THOR’S WORLD TOUR… The Departure
Somewhere on a small island in the Great Pacific Northwest… The Departure
I must be off to a place called The Emerald City on the morrow. I have heard there are Witches there, both good and bad. The good ones are hot, I was informed, so if I hath to meet a Witch, I hope she is a good one. Oh… what if I am being sent to a Witch… a bad one? Would the writer with the lilac hair be so cruel? Oh, yes… I said “Lilac”. My host has something they call ‘photographic evidence’ and showed me this…
Seeing her visage brings back the memories of a night long ago when this world tour thing started. Here I was, having fun playing with her son and daughter, waiting for my next chance to save the human’s world, and one night she takes me to a den of iniquity filled with lusty maidens of exotic scents. My excitement soon turned to fear as a furious squealing and shrieking ensued with such frantic pawing of my person. Each one had to have her turn twisting and turning my body and looking under my cape. Telling them I was the God of Thunder only made it worse. What I couldn’t figure out, was that they were all calling me Chris! I soon learned that I would be forced to visit each one of them, and they are all writers! And, that was only the start. I still carry a portrait in my cape of that fateful night…
I was given this as a memento when I visited my bosom buddy and her little white dog, in someplace called Colorado. That is her on thy right… one guess who is on thy left. It is nice to be loved, but this whole Chris thing has me perplexed. So that is how this whole affair started. My host is preparing another coffin, he calls it a shipping container, for the morrow. But first I plan to be checking on a curious sight I saw in the village. I passed a garish building with a poster of a flying man in a red cape like mine…
I enter the building behind some small humans and my senses are immediately assaulted with the heady scent of butter. I am curious to see if he is one of the Avengers. I have not heard of him, but he is quite handsome and I wonder if the female writers will be sending him on a tour. It is quite dark inside, filled with little humans making awful chewing and smacking sounds. The wall soon bursts with light and comes alive. I am not sure what is happening, but it is loud and exciting. The man in the red cape soon appears and I realize how comic his appearance, and what an impostor he proves to be, Man of Steel indeed. He is a Fairy Tale… A Fraud! I stand and cry “I Am The God Of Thunder… Bow Down Before Me!!!” I am quickly shushed and ushered outside.
So it is with heavy heart that I must take my leave from this perplexing island. My stay has been enjoyable, and I am curious to see the color of the nail polish on the fingers that next open my ‘shipping container’. My only hope is that she has a girl-child with friends. Or maybe it will be Witch or a Wizard instead and I must wield the mighty Mjollnir! I am The God of Thunder and the God of Earth!!!
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Editor’s note: From the Sheriff’s Log in the ‘Journal of the San Juans’…6/23 ~ Deputies across San Juan Island have been on alert for a small man, dressed in an eccentric costume, creating a public nuisance and harassing citizens. He suddenly appears and forces them to bow down before him. He has some type of weapon described as resembling a mallet. He has also been sighted on Orcas Island previously. It is known that he has been evicted from Herb’s Tavern, The Palace Theater, McMillan’s Dinning Room and The Hungry Clam. The Washington State Ferry System and the Coast Guard have been put on alert, and automobiles leaving the island will be searched. He will be apprehended.
June 24, 2013 ~ In recognizing his efforts in saving the world, a grateful nation arranges for an agency of the federal government to transport Thor off the Island.
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Previously… The Mausoleum (Part 5)
Previously… Paradise Found (Part 4)
Previously… Day Trip to the Magic Island (Part 3)
Previously… Adjusting to New Surroundings (pt. 2)
Previously… The Arrival (pt. 1)
To learn more about Thor’s World Tour, and see where he’s been… THE GOD OF THUNDER IS TOURING THE WORLD
My thanks to Susie Lindau for use of her photo (of course she does not know it yet) see… Susie Lindau’s Wild Ride
Friday Fictioneers… DISPLACED
I got a notice that someone named caroljforrester had ‘liked’ a story called Displaced that I had written. Her name sounded familiar, but my story did not, so I had to go back and look. It is one I really liked, because it was about when I lived in Chicago… I should write about that time, I wish I had taken more photos then. This story recalls when we would close down the bar and go out for something to eat at 3 a.m. I thought I would bring it back into the light of day.
This was the first post for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, after she took over the helm of the Friday Fictioneers writing group. When I saw the photo I thought “What the Hell?” Then I thought deeper and the prompting process took over… funny how that happens. I hope you enjoy reading Displaced. Here is a link to Friday Fictioneers… see what they are up to now.
Last week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt first ran in October 2012 when Rochelle took over prompting 100 Word Flash Fiction writers around the world. I remembered the photo but not what story I had written, so I went back to see and read again. It is one of my favorite stories, nice to see it again. It was fun to see who liked and commented on my story, many still FF writers. I know R W-F won’t be happy I’m posting it this week when there is a new prompt photo, I’ll risk it.
Thank you, Rochelle, for hosting these many years. Ted
It’s been three months now. The shakes have gotten worse. Chef dropped the plate off at the counter, and plodded back to the grill. 3 a.m., liver and onions, bacon and eggs, whores and drunks. Oh well, life at the Huddle House in Chicago.
Lit a…
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Trifextra: Week Seventy-Three: ALWAYS SOMETHING
This type of job is never easy, and certainly not fun.
The 1st time he fell off the horse.
The 2nd time the rope broke.
The 3rd time his neck snapped.
Mission accomplished.
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Here’s the Trifextra Prompt… “This weekend we’re asking for 33 of your own words inspired by the idiom… third time’s the charm.”
THOR’S WORLD TOUR… Day Trip to the Magical Isle
Somewhere on a small island in the Great Pacific Northwest…. Day trip to the Magical Isle
“Away, damn you Loki. Take Skidbladnir and begone! My beloved Sif, what has he done? Why is it always about the hair? Now yours is no more. My Wife! I want my wife! Oh Pink One, why do you keep me from her?” I am roused from a fitful sleep with a curt “Come on, we’re late for the red-eye!” I find out later, that being ‘late for the red-eye’ is a proud tradition on this island. The only ferry I want to be late for is the one on the Styx, but then I’m not Greek so I guess it won’t matter. We head for the sea in the human’s automobile. I have been in many on this road trip, and this is by far the finest, as there are no foul odors from the small humans and their pets. It is also neat, without the clutter of the white cups with green mermaids that seem to cover the floor of all the other’s automobiles. Like that woman in Southern California with the tiny odious boy-child who would not ‘bow down before me’. The worst adversary I have faced thus far… It was luck to escape with my life. ‘Bite Eyeball’, indeed!
The sun is rising and the beast comes into view. I stand ready to fend it off at the first sign of trouble, as it is as fearsomely ugly as assumed.
Into the belly of the beast we plunge. A strange rumbling ensues and we push-off into the sea, headed for Orcas Island.
I wave good-by to the human’s village in the harbor, with high hopes of finding a link to Asgard on the magical isle.
We approach the island and the time has come to find these nobel artists and lovers of the earth. Perhaps they will be of assistance in my quest.
While the human is busy, I take leave to explore. I find that the artists I meet are interested in selling their wares and no nothing of Asgard. All the friends of the earth I encounter are sputtering about organics and preoccupied in hugging trees… not at all what I expected. I head back and find myself on a road with alarming signs proclaiming No Trespassing! Do they not know I am the God of Thunder? I find myself taken captive and tied up with other prisoners.
“Have you been here long?” I say. “Oh yes. Many years, for us there is no hope. Save yourself Thor. What you seek is on the island you just left. You must find… The Mausoleum!” I thank the maiden with the once red hair and breaking my bonds with The Mighty Hammer! I go in search of my human friend to ask about this Mausoleum.
To be continued…
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Previously… Adjusting to New Surroundings (pt. 2)
Previously… The Arrival (pt. 1)
To learn more about Thor’s World Tour, and see where he’s been… THE GOD OF THUNDER IS TOURING THE WORLD
Trifextra: Week Seventy-Two: SUMMER IS…
SUMMER IS… in 33 words
Summer is ‘The Mill’! Music in the air… everywhere. There are violins, guitars, flutes, harps, accordions, drums of all kinds, harmonicas, banjos, cellos, tambourines, horns, pianos, squeeze-boxes, cymbals, lots of singing and dancing!
♬♪♪♩♬♪♫♭𝄢♩♬𝄫♪♩♫
The instructions for the Trifextra Writing Challenge this week were… “This weekend we’re asking you to describe summer in your own words. Thirty-three of them exactly, of course. Good luck!”
♬♪♪♩♬♪♫♭𝄢♩♬𝄫♪♩♫
Each summer high in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, somewhere near Yosemite, about 500 souls gather for a conclave of The Sierra Music and Arts Institute… more commonly known as Sweet’s Mill. The old timers just call it The Mill. For 60 years now, on the site of an old sawmill, a music and arts retreat takes place in the form of a giant campout. Musicians from around the world come together to share their knowledge and talents with others, and just plain perform. Artists gather to demonstrate their skills and teach others. There’s also drama taught, with two plays being produced. Do you want to learn how to belly dance, flamenco, tango or swing? Classes for that. At night on different stages, there are performances to show off new-found skills, and for old friends to get together and jam. And, lots of dancing!
I help out in the Arts Area. I don’t play a musical instrument, but I write stories and take thousands of photos. Here are two from last year. The photo of the young man playing the steel guitar got me a ‘Best of Show’ ribbon at our county fair, in its category. He was sitting at a table near the main stage practicing or maybe just playing… there’s a lot of that going on. It made a great still-life photo.
But my favorite photo of all, is this one of a woman playing the violin. For me, the story makes the photo, and I’ll tell how I came to take this one. I had gone up to the Flamenco Camp, because I had never been there. The Mill is over 200 acres, with different interest groups banding together in camps. There’s Gypsy Camp, Flamenco, Cowboy, Meditation Meadow, Old Timey, Bluegrass and on and on. There are still some I have to discover. So, one day I went up to the Flamenco Camp and watched a maestro teach a group of children the fine points to playing a flamenco guitar. Some women practiced dance to the music on a small stage they had made. As I was leaving, I heard the most beautifully haunting violin music. I went toward some tents expecting to see the violinist, but nothing. I followed the music up a hill through increasingly heavy brush, and finally in a small clearing I found a young woman playing a violin. I snuck a photo and listened to her play. She finally stopped, saw me and shyly smiled. I asked if I could take her photo, and she beamed and posed for me. They are nice photos of her facing me, but I like the first one I took best. So, that’s kind of two faces of The Mill. I’m leaving in two weeks… I can’t wait.
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Here’s one I wrote for Trifecta that I liked… I had a great time last summer listening to music and enjoying the creative camaraderie in our camp… and of course got some great photo. There will be no music at the ‘Mill’ this year due to the lack of rainfall in California.
THOR’S WORLD TOUR… Adjusting to new surroundings
Somewhere on a small island in the Great Pacific Northwest… just freed from prison…
I breath in a deep lungful of fresh air, a relief from the scent of dainty perfumes that have hung so heavy in my cape. I detect a hint of ocean air, and I long for the sea again. My eyes encounter a dazzling array of color from every corner imaginable, in this seeming rural landscape.
I find that my iron prison is high from the ground, held high aloft on a post. I will have to descend with care, as my strength has been weakened by exposure to excessive amounts of polyurethane. It will be some time before my belt, Megingjörd, is able to regain full power. I espy a soft landing spot and jump!
I make it without harm and look for sanctuary while I garner the lay of the land. This is the first time I have been on my own, and not brought back into the world to the sight of leering eyes and painted lips bending over me. Impossible to escape their grasp until they tire of playing with me, and eventually ship me off to another one.
I immediately encounter a threat from a giant creature that I have to ward off with a blow from The Mighty Hammer… I am the God of Thunder! She goes back to sleep.
This place seems to be some kind of farm, as there are egg layers sequestered nearby, and I am hungry. I enter the enclosure with as much stealth as I can muster… but a “Cock-a-Doodle-Do” soon gives me away and I am beset with feather bearing monsters. I barely escape with my life, thanks to my Mighty Hammer!
Leaving the foul fowl behind, I enter a wood shop in search of a clue to my whereabouts. Jumping on a workbench I accidentally activate a switch putting me in harm’s way. I am saved once again, thanks to Mjölnir (TMH). Must make a note to send a check to Mr. DeWalt for the damage.
I come to a body of water and decide to go across. A nearby boat seems the answer, but a family named Noah is busy loading it with animals and say I am welcome to join them, but they are waiting for the flood and it might take some time to float their boat.
Not to be deterred, I take matters into my own hands and float across… no Princess Cruise, that’s for sure, but maybe that’s a good thing.
THOR!!! Someone calls my name. A handsome gentleman tells he is my host and welcomes me to his island. I tell him I am ‘The God of Thunder’, he says he knows that and invites me inside, to a table groaning under the weight of a sumptuous feast of garlic sausages, grilled chicken, ranch style beans and corn on the cob. Breads of all description and fresh fruits and beverages are a welcome sight. He is anxious to hear about my tour, but first has some distressing news… The Pink Haired Princess now has blue hair. Oh, My Magical Mistress… what hast thou done? ‘There must be a Witch involved’, is my first thought, then I remember she is a writer… and you know how they are. I ask when I can see her, as my heart is blue, and he says he will see what he can do, but I must finish the tour first before finally joining her. He invites me to go to a special island tomorrow full of artists and gentle people of the earth. I am hopeful to learn more about this place. I ask how we will get there, as I have not had much luck with water transportation of late. He assures me there is no problem, as we will be ensconced in a fine Swedish automobile and catching something called a red-eye ferry. ‘What new monster awaits’, I think to myself.
To be continued…
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Previously… The Arrival
To learn more about Thor’s World Tour, and see where he’s been… THE GOD OF THUNDER IS TOURING THE WORLD
THOR’S WORLD TOUR
HEY… my comments were turned off before… because Thor craves attention… please leave a comment…
Somewhere on a small island in the Great Pacific Northwest….
What have I done to deserve such a fate? How have I offended thee, O mighty Odin? I have been sent on a seemingly endless tour of giant horny housewives, fawning over me and subjecting me to the most degrading acts, dragging me around their villages to show off to their friends, and taking photo after photo with something called a phone. Thank the Gods for their children, they are nice and lots of fun to play with, they seem to understand me. But, those things they call ‘pets’ are everywhere, and to be avoided at all costs. I have seen a lot of interesting places though, and am amassing quite the postcard collection. If I ever get back home, I won’t be sharing with Loki, since I’m sure this trip through purgatory is his doing. The one bright…
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