|
Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’ll be blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. Rather than miss an instalment, please subscribe and I’ll give you a nudge as they come out.
Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 11
The clouds had begun to clear, and a bleached-white moon gave the wooded landscape an eerie glow. Alf had to admit, the forest had a freakish atmosphere that he'd never experienced before. Some small animal darted from a hole in the ground and ran around his boots. A flush of adrenaline tingled through his body, making him curse and kick out.
No need to get jumpy, he rebuked himself. This wasn't the first time he'd heard legends of trolls in these woods; but if anyone asked him, he’d tell them those legends were a load of old poppycock. On this night, if a troll were to stomp through the forest, he’d have to mimic one himself, which is what he’d planned. He clenched his fists and bunched his muscles; Morris was about to witness the dreaded troll. At long last he saw Morris leave his tent and grope his way into the forest. He carried the wicker basket in his left hand and a torch with a piercing beam in his right. A fox howled somewhere close and Morris stopped dead. He shone his torch in all directions and Alf could see that his nostrils were open wide, as if to catch a whiff of danger. Ha! He doesn't feel so sure of himself now, thought Alf, and rubbed his hands with glee. 
0 Comments
Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’ll be blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. Rather than miss an instalment, please subscribe and I’ll give you a nudge as they come out.
Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 10
As the evening grew dark over the Cloud Estate’s deathly silent forest, a damp mist curled up from the lake and Morris noticed his knees tremble. A skin of moist covered his tent, but he knew the damp and cold weren’t the only cause of his shivering.
A fox cried out somewhere in the black woodland and bats flew across the rising moon. Morris dug a torch from his rucksack, a modern affair with a beam that sliced through the gloom. It bolstered his courage, but not by much. The time had come to venture into the trees in search of magical toadstools, and his chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. His wife, Sibyl, was desperate to obtain a few for her potions, and they were rare. According to her, they only grew during a full moon on the ninth day of September. Even so, she had warned him not to venture into the forest on this night, because, according to folklore, a wicked lady troll would also be after them. Morris didn’t believe in trolls and all such nonsense. After all, despite his small stature, he was a man among men. Right now though, he wished he’d brought a stiff dram with him: just suppose there were such beings as trolls. 
Image by FelixMittermeier from Pixabay
Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. Rather than miss an instalment, please subscribe and I’ll give you a nudge as they come out.
Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 09
Apart from the glen by the lake, and the widespread lawns in front of the Cloud Mansion, and Morris's gardens, forest covered most of the Cloud Estate. A busy London road bordered one side of the property, The Stables bordered another, and a narrow belt of public parks surrounded the remaining two sides. Inside its impenetrable boundaries, the estate enjoyed a life of its own. Untouched and ancient, generation after generation had handed it down from the time of King Richard the Lion-Hearted.
Alf stopped behind a large boulder, sent a mental instruction to Crusher to form its robot body into that of a chair, and sat in its lap. Having made himself comfortable, Alf spied on Morris with his third eye. As hoped, the gardener was still in his tent, eating supper, unaware of the terror that was about to befall him. Alf blew on his hands and rubbed them together; the show could begin. 
Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’ll be blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. Rather than miss an instalment, please subscribe and I’ll give you a nudge as they come out.
Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 08
Alf, who knew Morris had camped by the lake and would spend the night searching for toadstools, decided to have a little fun with him. He'd already started his night patrol, made a circuit of The Cloud Mansion, and now jogged around the estate's boundaries, checking the fences and high stone walls. Crusher trotted by his side and Alf kept nudging its shoulder, trying to make the little robot lose balance and topple. "You make for boring company," chortled Alf, "but we'll soon be having us a belly laugh."
Reaching the end of his round, and satisfied all was well, Alf darted off toward the glen by the lake. The evening was dark, and dense trees stole most of the remaining light, but he didn't need a torch. Young Master Trevor had adapted a titanium plate in his brow that, among other marvels, improved his third eye. Now, even if he put a bucket over his head, wore a blindfold, and scrunched his eyes shut, with the aide of his third eye he could still see where he was going. Crusher followed in his heels. Although nimble, the little robot wasn’t stealthy and its hydraulics made a faint whine. Before putting his plan of terror into action, Alf would have to leave Crusher hidden. 
Image by Christian Dorn from Pixabay
In the last post: Morris makes camp by the lake, and he says, "Pooh to the idea of trolls..."14/1/2020 Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’ll be blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. Rather than miss an instalment, please subscribe and I’ll give you a nudge as they come out. Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 07After assembling the tent's framework of bamboo poles, Morris stretched the heavy outer canvas over the top, spread a tarpaulin across the ground to make a dry floor, and hung the cotton inner liner. His faithful tent stunk of mould, but held together at the seams. Once up, he had room to stand inside and a roomy fore tent for his camping table, chair and picnic bag. There was no point searching for Sibyl's toadstools before midnight, so he made a pot of tea and spread the supper she’d made for him across the table. There was homemade bread, mutton, mustard and a thick slab of fruitcake. The clouds that had threatened earlier began to melt away and the full moon would be rising soon. Morris leaned back in his chair, folded his arms and breathed a deep, satisfied sigh. "Cheers!" he said, holding his cup to the entrancing evening. All he needed now was the company of a dainty lady troll! The real world:Up here in Norway’s Arctic North, we still have one week to wait before the sun peeks over the horizon. In the meantime, just see the fantastic display of colours we’re granted. The photo doesn't do justice! 
Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’ll be blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. Rather than miss an instalment, please subscribe and I’ll give you a nudge as they come out.
Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 06
Morris marched along a narrow dirt-track path, mighty trees pressing on both sides. All the idiotic talk about trolls had annoyed him at first, but now he rambled with a spring in his step and whistled a jolly tune.
Hadn't his wife, Sibyl, said the troll was a lady? Yes, Husminx. His imagination pictured a slightly clad temptress with long flowing hair and figure-of-eight figure. Wouldn't that be a fitting encounter for a fine Don Juan like me? Just as the sun grew too weak to see by, the path opened into a small glen, exposing the remaining daylight. A small lake boarded one side of the glen, tangled trees crowded around the other sides. In the fading light, Morris hurried to assemble his tent. He looked up at the sky. Dark clouds gathered and it looked like rain. Sibyl had said the magical toadstools she wanted only grew on Trollop Knoll in full moonlight. Which meant, because of the clouds, that he wouldn't be picking any tonight. Whatever the weather, he didn't mind. Slumbering by the lake and listening to fish jump, rain patter, and trees whisper in the breeze would soothe his soul like balsam. Pooh to the idea of trolls! 
Image by Wolfgang Eckert from Pixabay
On Tuesdays and Saturdays I’m blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. Rather than miss an instalment, please subscribe and I’ll give you a nudge as they come out. You can also follow by using Bloglovin. Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 05Alf couldn't help but chuckle at the plan forming in his mind. There was no hurry to set it in motion, so he strolled back to his gatehouse cottage and flipped a bloody beefsteak into a frying pan. Him and his little robot friend, Crusher, were on perimeter duty tonight, making sure The Cloud Estate’s alarms were in order. If he hurried, he would be in time to sneak down to the lake before midnight where Morris had made camp. At midnight, the pompous little man would search for toadstools. Despite the warnings, Morris didn’t believe that trolls would also be out looking for them. Alf didn’t believe in trolls either, but that wasn’t the point. Morris needed to have his manhood tested, and Alf was about to make sure the test would be tough. Giving the beefsteak no more than a minute on each side, Alf wolfed the juicy chunk of meat down his throat, gulped a mug of creamy tea, and threw himself on a sofa for a little nap. The night would be long, and much more fun than usual. The real world:Up here in Norway’s Arctic North, we’ve had a bit of snow. This is what my dustbin (trashcan) looks like: 
Dear friends, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’ll be blogging nibble-sized chunks of new ‘Life in the Clouds’ stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. Rather than miss an instalment, please subscribe and I’ll give you a nudge as they come out.
Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 04
"I like to be out in the nature too," said Alf, stepping in front of Morris. "But not when there's trolls about." He raised his arms, wiggled his fingers, and gave his impression of a ghost. "Whooooh!" The sound ended with a little chuckle.
"Trolls don't sound like ghosts," said Morris, irritated. "How do you know? Have you ever seen one?" Morris grabbed his rucksack’s straps and tugged them away from his shoulder. His knuckles whitened. "You might be frightened," he said, marching away as fast as his heavy load and short legs would carry him, "but not a real man like me. There are no such things as trolls and ghosts. And I think the reason you know so much about my private affairs is because you’re a snooper. Good-day." Alf sucked in his bottom lip and shrugged. "Hope you come back alive,” he called. “Take care." He flexed his muscles and sent a mental command to his little robot friend, Crusher. It peeped agreement and bustled away to their gatehouse cottage to put the kettle on. Morris is a strange man, thought Alf. Despite the gardener's small stature he carried an air of stouthearted authority, of a soldierly quality, and many people from the local community respected his points of view and advice. In Alf's opinion, Morris was too high-and-mighty for his boots and wondered if this might be an ideal opportunity to test his manhood. Maybe I’ll take a trip down to the lake too, he thought, and grinned from ear to ear. To be continued… The real world:
This time last year I stood on the summit of Kilimanjaro. Not bad for a sixty-seven year old, eh? It wasn’t easy, and our small group (my two daughters and I) were the only ones to make it in a two-day period. I’m publishing my journal so that you can read about it: more news later.
Dear friend, on Tuesdays and Saturdays I’ll be blogging nibble-sized chunks of new 'Life in the Clouds' stories. You can check in regularly and read them free, or wait to buy the whole story when published. Rather than miss an instalment, please subscribe and I’ll give you a nudge as they come out.Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 03With a mammoth rucksack strapped to his back, and a wicker basket dangling in his hand, Morris staggered off towards the estate’s lake. On his way, he was unlucky enough to meet Alf, one of the Cloud Estate's two security guards. Alf was a giant, with bulging muscles and a battered head as featureless and flat as an old leather football. A dumpy little robot stood by his side, about the same height as Morris. The real world:Looking forward to seeing you here next year! Let’s make it a fun one! James. Eerie Eve ® James Field. Part 02Sibyl, who stood by the kitchen’s stone sink, spun on her chunky legs to face her husband, Morris. "No, you mustn't. Not tonight."
"But," Morris slid his hands from his pockets and held them wide, "isn't this a full moon on the ninth day of September? Isn't this the only night in goodness knows how many years those toadstools you're always on about will sprout?" Sibyl strolled across the tiled floor, wiped her podgy hands on her pinafore, and stroked Morris on his chin. "You're a kind man, and what you say is true. But this is also the night the lady troll, Husminx, will be out looking for the toadstools." Morris sucked in his potbelly and stretching to his full height, backbone straight as one of his garden rakes. Even so, the top of his head only reached to Sibyl's broad shoulders. He took a step back, lifted his heels, and laughed. "There are no such things as trolls, especially in this part of the world." "Yes there are, and you don't want to mess with this one. She's pretty, but if she thinks you're after her toadstools she'll tear your throat out and leave you for dead." Morris brushed at the air, as if dismissing an irritating fly. "Don't you go worrying about me, sweetheart. If I should meet a troll, it’ll worse for her." To be continued... |
James FieldNo matter how much I have, there's no joy unless I can share it. ArchivesCategories |
RSS Feed
