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William Shakespeare

PLAY YOUR CARDS RIGHT ~ 26  FEBRUARY 2016

28/2/2016

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A Prompt response for Inspiration Monday ~ LOVE AT FIRST FIGHT

PLAY YOUR CARDS RIGHT
by John Yeo

     The ship had sailed away from Southampton on a long voyage to the Caribbean. I have never experienced this type of holiday before, and I was very keen to find a way to pass the time during the interminable days at sea.

    “I think I would like to learn Bridge,”  I said to the Social Hostess, when I went to collect my copy of the morning crossword puzzle and the quiz. “I have never played the game before and it will be a very rewarding way to kill some time while we are at sea.”
    “That’s a good idea.” Said, Angela the friendly crew member on duty. “Just turn up and introduce yourself. It doesn't matter if you are an absolute beginner, the Bridge tutor is very friendly and you are certain to fit in.”
      “Thanks Angela, I will let you know how I get on.”

   I was very early, for the Bridge session and I made my way outside on deck to sit and do my crossword. This was definitely wistful thinking as I soon became aware of the gusty winds outside on deck. The ship was miles out at sea and the waves were high rolling, and foam topped. The view on all sides of the ship was exactly the same, broiling grey-blue waves on a moving sea reaching out to a far distant horizon. The cloudy sky was broken by a few patches of blue, revealed by the wind-blown clouds racing across. I was astonished at how few seabirds there were, until one of the crew informed me that the birds were usually seen close to the shore.
    The only visible thing was a distant spot on the horizon, I asked my new found friend the crew member. “Is that another passenger ship in the distance?”

    “No Sir, that is probably a container vessel, on the way to the docks.”

   “However can you know what that is from this distance?  I asked.

   “Ah! We only usually see cargo vessels on this route, if that was another passenger ship the Captain would have informed everyone over the loudspeakers.”

   “Thanks for your help.” I said.

     “You are welcome!”  Was the friendly response“


  I made my way to the card-room where I was full of questions. Would I like this mysterious card game? Would I be able to pick the basics up quickly enough to be able to take part in a serious game? The Bridge tutor bustled up to me as soon as I entered, a friendly looking, middle aged lady with piercing brown eyes, looking over a pair of brown plastic spectacles, smiling broadly she said.
     “Good Morning, and welcome have you played this game before? I’m Cheryl and this is my husband Bill. What is your name?”

     I was overwhelmed with the warmth of this friendly greeting, and as Bill shook my hand, I replied. “I’m John, and No! I am an absolute beginner. I would like to learn the basics to enable me to play when I return home.”

   “Of course John, welcome!” Said Bill, “You have come to the right place, luckily we have three people here who are looking for someone to make up a four, let me introduce you to Jen and Lew, and their travelling companion May.”

  I shook hands with Lew, a tall portly man, with a bald head and a friendly manner.

      Jen responded with a welcoming smile and said “Sit down,John.” I liked Jen instantly, her dark hair and very brown eyes gave her an open but wary look.

    I smiled and nodded as I took a seat at the table, opposite May. “I'm sorry to say that I am a total beginner, I have never played this game before.”

  Lew responded and said, “Don’t worry Jen and I have played a little before, but May is learning, you are welcome to join us.”

  Cheryl bustled up towards our table and said. “May I suggest that you play men against ladies that will put one absolute beginner, up against another, together with one of the more experienced players.”

    I found myself paired up with Lew against Jen and May. Then total card war broke out as the game began. Closely followed and supervised by the two tutors, Cheryl and Bill. I have never experienced a card battle like this before. I found myself getting exasperated looks from Lew as I bidded wrongly and made many amateurish errors. I could see May was getting by, but she was also overcome by the tension of this fight to the finish.
The ladies won hands down, and Lew was rather peeved, I could see it in his demeanour.

    I found myself warming to May, her total genuine attitude, her bright blue eyes and blonde hair, and her smiling personality. We arranged to meet later for tea.
     Drinking Camomile tea in the cafe and discussing the philosophy of non-verbal communication, we rapidly fell head over heels in love at first fight.

     We never played Bridge again!

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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THE SHELTER ~ 20th FEBRUARY 2016

22/2/2016

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THE SHELTER
by John Yeo

   The nights draw in fast around here, I had planned to go further into the forest, the darkness descended so fast. I was on an extraordinary trek through this green woody forest with my camping equipment and a metal detector. I was following a foggy, cloudy, series of clues that would enable me to uncover some fabled Iceni artefacts, from the time the legendary Queen Boudicca walked this land. Suddenly as the darkness enveloped everywhere, the trail became obscured, I tripped over a fallen branch and fell heavily to the ground. I tried to get up, but my ankle had twisted, I could feel pain that sent me crashing to the ground again. I reached for my mobile telephone, but there was no signal, and the charge was very low.
    I was unable to put the tent up, I crawled along the trail in the darkness for a few yards until I came across a natural shelter. An arbor of branches that formed a makeshift roof, much like a natural woody cave. I crawled inside and soon the energy-sapping result of my efforts became apparent and I suddenly fell into a deep sleep. Then it rained, first a drizzle, then a more persistent shower followed by a crash of thunder. I woke to find the drips penetrating my little arbor and running down my face. Suddenly I froze as I could hear the sounds of panting breath and whimpering sounds from the low growing branches at the side of my arbor. I held my breath as I could sense danger, when a low warning growl informed me that I was not alone. I knew I was unable to move very quickly so I remained as still as possible, I was absolutely at the mercy of whatever was sharing my arbor.
The storm passed over and I could hear movement at the back of my shelter. I lay still, and to my surprise a Muntjac deer suddenly bolted for the gap, as a family of foxes left by a small gap at the back of the shelter.
    When morning broke, I crawled outside and found my rucksack, lying just where I had left it by the trail. I found some matches and lit a fire trying to attract attention. Within an hour I was rescued and taken to hospital by an air ambulance.
   There is a level of unknown communication between all forms of life. We are in this thing together, until hunger drives us apart to kill for food.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

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DIURNAL DREAM ~ 19th February 2016

21/2/2016

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A prompt response for Inspiration Monday ~ Diurnal Dream

DIURNAL DREAM
by John Yeo

        “I tell you we all do it!  All we have to do is keep straight faces. Try not to laugh out loud will you, they will never understand. I will put the ideas together that you provide, and take the credit, yet we both know they are your ideas, not mine or perhaps they are a mixture of both.”

 This was expressed by the visible side. The aspect that was responsible for the germination expression and growth of the ideas generated by the combined power of both sides of the equation that was very briefly present for a few microseconds at dawn, and a few microseconds at dusk.

        “OK! If the nocturnal variation stays within the parameters of the night our diurnal dreams can be continued throughout the night. The nocturnal part of an idea is just an ongoing variation, the end result of a diurnal dream continuing throughout the period when the physical side is prone, asleep and inactive.”  

   The visible ongoing diurnal aspect of the double equation pointed out.  

 “There is an aspect of this coming together. The ultimate coming together to bring the two aspects of a dream into a single entity, that is largely unnoticed and usually ignored and this is the period of diurnal dreaming that takes place when both sides are incredibly bored. Take the average mind wandering away from a droning vocal rendition of obvious facts that are getting relayed and replayed continuously. As in the following…”

DIURNAL DREAMING
by John Yeo

The lecture was long and intricately constructed,
Of facts that had been stitched together again.
In a cycle of repetition to set the mind drifting
Looking out the window at the pouring rain.
I like the look of the flaxen haired girl on a cycle,
I believe there is life on the other side.
Would you believe if the world was two sided
Dreams could be split in two.

The culmination of the interpretation, is that
Dreams are an ongoing fantastical spread,
Of nocturnal desire flooding diurnal dreams
With ideas that could never be shattered.
That girl with the flaxen hair has become
A part of my personal individual stream
In a world that is very well grounded
She is now a part of a diurnal dream.

Copyright. © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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STARLIGHT ~ 13th FEBRURY 2016

14/2/2016

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A prompt response for Inspiration Monday: Quiet Light ~

STARLIGHT
by John Yeo

     I always relish the night shift at the hospital. The administration have all gone home, that leaves the professionals to fully take over and we can do our jobs without too much interference from the budget boys. Too many fingers in the pie if you ask me!
     I remember once when a patient was in pain and there was some argument over whether we should use the latest methods to ease the pain. The poor patient was pumped full of morphine, while three admin men discussed whether the hospital could afford the very latest miracle light rays that have just been introduced.
     This is a brilliant, bright new starlight, that mimics the rays of starlight that have streamed unused and ignored by scientists until a very powerful computer picked up the almost silent sound of the starlight rays bouncing of the Earth's surface. Professor Modesty then hooked the starlight to a machine that generates a beam of fantastic intensity, that has proved to be the most powerful painkiller ever known. One gentle bathe in the purifying quiet starlight and pain is instantly a memory that allows time for the medical specialists to identify and cure the causes.
    This wonderful new technique is very expensive to use as it is difficult to generate starlight in the daylight hours.
     Now on the night-shift we are able to freely use this pain killer, without any interference or repercussions from these admin ignoramuses. The quiet light eases the pain of the patients and ensures a drug free, pain free night.
    What these budget conscious, penny pinching idiots don’t seem to realise is that the stars come out at night and the quiet starlight is free to use without the necessity of expensive machines.
   I do love the night shift.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

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THE TOWER OF BABEL  ~ 7th February 2016

9/2/2016

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THE TOWER OF BABEL
by John Yeo

    Pedro was a sculptor, he worked in a medium that was ephemeral, short-lived very hard to control in the fluidity that was its natural state. Pedro was an ice-man, a man who could turn a block of ice into something wonderful. Anything that was requested could be done. Then one day he was asked to produce a magical sculpture on the lines of the biblical description of the Tower of Babel. Pedro got to work and within three hours a stunning work of art replaced the ordinary square block of ice that had confronted him. Pedro stepped back to admire his work before it was taken away to be used as a backdrop and a conversation piece in the showy lounge on a cruise liner.
    Life was lived by the passengers of this luxury liner as if there was no tomorrow, every possible novelty or delicate treat was available for the enjoyment of these privileged men and women. So satiated were they with the excesses available that the ice sculpture seemed just another object to be admired and then summarily ignored, dismissed from the conscious mind. A decorative novelty that stood in the centre of the lounge and dripped drops of liquid into the tray it was standing on.   
 Pedro noted the ignorance that his laborious artefact generated and decided to act, he poured a large glass of vodka in the tray. He called a portly passenger to one side and whispered,   
       “Don’t tell anyone, the ice is not frozen water but frozen vodka, here taste the drips in the tray!”
     “Oh! Wow! So it is!” Hey Mabel come and have a look here.  A Babble of Booze. The tower is pure frozen vodka.”
  Mabel a squealed with delight as she dipped her finger in the tray. “Hey everyone! The Tower of Babel is a tower of Booze. Soon crowds gathered to admire this wonderful work of art, and examine the intricate tiny figures as they slowly dripped away.
 People were soon taking notice and there was a babble of sounds of admiration, at the intricate carving and the detail that made up the work that was rapidly melting away.
    “Is it really frozen vodka?” Asked an elderly gentleman.
    “Yes,” said Mabel, “Taste the drips in the tray!”
     “Hey! What a great idea.”  He shouted. “What a brilliant piece of work. Look at the detail in these tiny figures before they melt away! Where is the sculptor who created this? I want to meet him.”  
  Pedro stepped forward.  
   The elderly gentleman then said to him.       “You are a very talented sculptor. I would like you to reproduce this carving in marble. I will pay you very well and employ you to continue to work for me. What do you say?”

   Pedro agreed instantly, as the half-melted ice carving was wheeled away to the galley below.

   The moral of this icy work of flash fiction, is never let your creativity get ignored.

Copyright. © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

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THE SNARK AGES  ~ 4th FEBRUARY 2016

6/2/2016

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Prompt response for Inspiration Monday  ~
The prompt ~ THE SNARK AGES


THE SNARK AGES
by John Yeo

   Today I am going to steal something from you my patient readers on a timescale of microseconds this will feel painful. Each microsecond will be as valuable as each of the preceding microsecond, an infinity of time to the little known elusive impossible snark.
   Our story begins with a puzzle, when a For Sale sign was removed from a suburban house.
A little later, the dustmen started to remove the rubbish from the side of the house.

   Rumour had it that the house was sold to a mysterious couple, who the estate agent never actually met, the house was purchased by an agent acting on their behalf, who professed never to have met his clients. The owners moved in, in the dead of night, and no one saw them arrive.
The only clue they were there, was when the dustmen collected the trash.

    The couple settled into the neighbourhood very well, or so they thought, but strangely they had no contact with the people on either side of their house. The people on the block never saw a sign of them, not even a hide or hair of them, not a whisker. The full dustbins were always removed and re-filled again by the unseen mysterious occupants.
   The curtains were always firmly closed but no-one ever saw any of the occupants. One day Bronson Williams and his wife Louise tapped nervously on the door to introduce themselves and make them feel welcome. No response, Louse left the flowers she was carrying on the doorstep and they gave up and went home. Three days later the flowers were still there and the dustmen came and emptied the bin, with no response from within.  
     
    Charlie and Cherise on the other side of the mysterious house, then tried to get a response from the back door, Charlie banged loudly without success, there was no response. The blinds were tightly drawn and Cherise tried to peep inside without success, the place seemed to be quite deserted, they left the flowers they had brought on the back doorstep and returned home.  There was a bouquet of rotting blooms on the front doorstep. Three days later the flowers were still there when the dustmen came and emptied the trash.


     Four days later a For Sale sign went up and several people were shown around the house by an agent. The owners were nowhere to be seen, eventually the house was sold and a young couple moved in, the neighbourhood breathed a sigh of relief as a sense of normality returned.

    The refuse began to be collected again. There was no forwarding address for the occupants as there was nothing to forward.
​

   The culmination of this mysterious tale lies in the microseconds it needed to read it. Each microsecond added to another microsecond eventually becomes infinity. This is known as the elusive mysterious, snark ages.
   At the beginning of this tale of decaying refuse, I mentioned I would be stealing something from you my greatly esteemed reader. I have stolen at least five minutes of your precious time.
To the average well read snark, this will feel like ages.
    I am sure the refuse will eventually be collected when the dustmen return to work from their strike.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

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