Day Fourteen

(For more information on my 'April Challenge' and what it is see HERE)

(Someone e-mailed me to say they had been reading my 'April Challenge' snaps and they wondered what my process was for writing them. Well, I find a picture that has a few sparks in it for me. Then I sit, without preparation or time for contemplation, and I let the words spill out. Five snaps written in quick succession and fiddled with only a little to fit the wordcount. Sometimes what you produce is worth very little. A bit cliched or nothing much to it. Other times there's a real kernel of something worthwhile. I just throw up what comes out without editing for quality. Whole process from finding the picture to posting the pieces takes less than an hour - getting it presented right on the blog takes almost as long as the writing!)

(66)LETTING CHRISTIE DOWN

Christie said to tie a knot in my hankie. In the corner. And as I was tying it I was to say over and over what it was I had to remember. That way I’d not forget, Christie said. I understood, and, though I did what she said, I’ve forgotten.

(67)HIS SHIRT-TAIL MEMORY

Kent hadn’t a hankie so she tied it in his shirt-tail. A small tight knot that he must never undo. ‘It’s forever,’ she said. ‘That’s what we got. Something special, see?’ And it was special what they’d done then, so Kent keeps the knot in his shirt to always remember.

(68)HE MEANT WELL

Rick was always doing that. Writing numbers down on pieces of card, tying knots in string or in cloth. ‘That’s so I’ll not forget,’ he said, and he meant it when he said it. Trouble is Rick has the memory of a gnat and things fall out of his head.

(69)MILTON DON’T REMEMBER TO HOLD HIS TONGUE

‘See, I do remember,’ Milton said. ‘I remembered the time and the place, right?’ He checked his watch and it was true. ‘Didn’t need no knotted handkerchief either. You just gotta trust me some. Not all men are the same, Lindy.’

‘Did you bring the key?’ Lindy said.

Milton sighed.

(70)KEEPING THE MEMORY

Ancient tribes had one guy picked out and it was his job to keep the memory of the tribe and all he had was knots in string or cloth to nudge his memory. And there were days, feast days and celebration, and that guy'd stand tall telling them their story.

(Tomorrow, to mark the half way point, I shall write ten snaps to the visual prompt... all just for the fun of doing it.)