MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “entertainment”

Heatwave mood

dawn-in-montreal

©Dale Rogerson

When the heatwave arrived, any desire for outdoor activity disappeared. Michelle lay in bed, doors and windows closed to keep in the cool of the air condition. Her mood of the day was to do nothing. If possible, to not even get up.

The sky seemed cloudy. It was that hot and humid. The only place to be outside was at the beach, but the sea was miles away.

She stared out the window, half asleep, hoping something would pleasantly alter the laziness that had taken over her.

The silence was broken by a tingling sound. Repeated twice. A message.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

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Cat prints

http://www.shotleybridgeprimary.durham.sch.uk/wp-content/uploads/sites/151/2017/05/paw-prints.jpgShe may have been sleeping when the human brought the cake in the previous night, but she soon realised there was something going on in the house. Phone calls, secret card writing, the sound of wrapping paper… there was a lot of hassle around.  And it wasn’t easy to lie somewhere undisturbed and out of the way. Plus there was the added annoyance that no one was paying any attention to her.

She meowed a few times, but all the people who had somehow gathered in the house simply ‘shooed’ her away with that irritating high-pitched-supposedly-sweet tone of voice.

Surprisingly, the humans went to sleep early that night. Perhaps they were preparing something for the next day. She had to find out what it was. And most of all, she had to discover what had been snuck into the house.

On the kitchen table, there was something inedible like numbers. It didn’t taste very good with the first lick so she left them there. But how do you get into the fridge. A few days ago, she had found a strange way of opening the fridge door. It had taken a lot of effort. Good thing she had spent most of the day sleeping under the living room table. She had all the energy required to jump up and down until that door finally opened. And… there it was. Right in the middle of the fridge. If she stood on her back legs alone she could see it. It was round and white with a few colours. It seemed creamy. If she could just stick her tongue onto it and taste it. But she lost balance and her right paw fell onto the side of the cake. She barely saw her paw print on the white rim before the kitchen lights were abruptly turned on and someone walked in yawning. She managed to quickly sneak under the table and then run out of the room just as the waking person realised the new print on the cake.

The scream woke the entire house up.

But that didn’t stop the humans from having a very loud and festive birthday party.

The cat spent the day under the bed.

An uncanny excuse

http://www.cepolina.com/Times-Square-taxi-traffic-jam.htmlMaximilian knew from the morning he sprang out of bed that it was going to be a difficult day. His alarm had not sounded and he had not been alerted that he had to get up or he was going to be late for work. His heart was pounding as he hastily tried to dress, shave and have breakfast all at the same time. By the time he got out of the door, he knew there was no way of reaching work on time.

His car had broken down the day before and the buses were on strike. A taxi was the only means available. But he was not alone in needing one urgently. He saw four pass by him before one finally stopped to take him in. Traffic was horrendous. But there was nothing he could do. His work was at least a 20-minute drive away and it was impossible to make it any sooner on foot.

Maximilian’s phone began to ring, just when he had sunk into the taxi seat, surrendering to his misfortune. One of his colleagues just alerted him that a meeting scheduled for noon had been moved up. It would happen in the next 30 minutes. Maximilian’s heart began to pound again. He could feel the blood draining from his veins and could feel a collapse was imminent. Then the messages and emails began to sound all at once. Work was already piling up and he was nowhere near the office.

There has to be something I can do”, he thought. “Some sort of loophole. Something that can get me out of this mess. If only something could happen to reverse it all, to somehow postpone everything until I arrived…” As he racked his brain to find a solution, he remembered a conversation with a computer-programmer friend of his. He had insisted that he could hack into a building’s system from anywhere and get access to anything from switching on and off the lights to even the company’s internal servers. Maximilian knew this was wrong but he had no choice. To him this was the answer. “Simon I’ll buy you a beer tonight if you can prove your argument right”, he found himself saying next.

Maximilian finally arrived at the office just before the meeting was about to start. But he found everyone in distress. He discretely asked what happen and one of his colleagues began a rant on how a black out had occurred for almost twenty minutes and panic had ensued out of fear all the data would be lost. Fortunately, now that power was restored, everything was back to normal, and it was good that he was there to start the meeting.

Great,” Maximilian responded. “Sorry I arrived late; the traffic out there is unforgiveable”.

Maybe it was just an excuse and Maximilian got lucky, but sometimes all we need to do is search for that loophole we don’t initially see at first to make things easier for us. Not everything has to be so despairingly difficult for us all the time.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Loophole

The showdancer’s new dress

https://i.pinimg.com/originals/7a/7e/e4/7a7ee4a84d90dff7853d57b0a4863948.jpgNow that she had reached the top of her profession, the renowned showdancer was able to laugh at the reminder of her most embarrassing and agonising moment in her career. “It was during a royal Christmas ball,” she confessed. “I was astounded by the luxury of the ballroom, the immensity of the hall, the gold, the silver, every carefully placed ornament”. “I remember my jaw dropped open at the mere sight of it all”. “One of my co-dancers nudged me to say that she would organise the showdresses in a wardrobe ‘upstairs’. I didn’t know where that was but I entrusted her with the dress. I was gobsmacked with where we had come. But then the real show began. Because as soon as the light dimmed, the host announced that a ‘dance programme like no other worldwide’ would appear before the guests’ eyes. I was trembling with excitement. I suddenly flinched and realised I had very little time to get dressed. But where on earth had the girl placed the dresses?

With just a few minutes away from the show, I couldn’t for the life of me find neither my co-dancer, nor the dresses. Everyone else was getting ready, but no-one had seen the girl who had taken charge of my dress. I was the lead in this seasonal dance-story. There was no way I could not appear. And I needed that dress. I raced up and down the ballroom, in and out of the changing rooms, and as I saw that all the other dancers were almost ready, I panicked all the more. Suddenly, I found myself on another huge princely-like staircase with a red carpet neatly laid on every step. I sprinted up (or down, I can’t recall) and sprang into what appeared to be the world’s most elegant and spacious cloakroom. But I was not alone”.

In the middle, on top of a square pouf sat a man, slim-figured with grey hair and a corresponding goatee, with a measuring tape hanging from around his neck. A royal tailor, I wondered. I had most probably looked pale from agony and fear. He was the exact opposite: restrained and composed. He got up and calmly walked towards me. ‘Are we looking for something in particular?’ he asked with a voice that emanated tranquillity. A recount of what had happened raced out of my mouth as he watched me unfazed. He then turned around and headed towards a tall wooden cupboard, he opened one door-flap – I couldn’t see what was inside – and pulled out the most beautiful pink showdress I had ever seen. pink strass showdance dress.jpgIt seemed custom-made for the exact role I was to play that night. He helped me put it on and I was so excited and panicking at the same time that I was not embarrassed that a strange man was helping me dress. I ran out of the room and – I still don’t know how – managed to get on stage at exactly the right moment. What is more, I remembered every single step I needed and gave the best performance of my career. It was the one that sky-rocketed me to the top; the one that filled me with confidence and made me believe that I was destined for more”.

The funniest and even stranger thing that happened that night was that the girl and the costumes appeared as we were packing everything to leave after the performance. She asked me where I was hidden, as she was searching for me all night”.

Some things come into our life inexplicably, but always at the right moment. We simply have to be open enough and prepared to go with the flow of what life throws our way.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Confess

 

The Elegance of Grace

https://i.pinimg.com/736x/53/7b/8c/537b8cd6f9d98304e7b90a1308e2009d--la-dance-dance-photography.jpgShe grew up in a bedroom that was as big as some apartments she later saw during her rent-hunting period. She had always thought that was the norm. That all children were brought up in loving families that looked after their every need and sacrificed (themselves) for their own welfare. Finding out the truth hurt.

Elegance, her mother had always told Grace, was something that you learnt to impose on yourself to the extent that it came out as natural. It was like the pain a dancer felt, but to the audience it seemed like blissful gliding. That was the essence of elegance. To appear to have everything under control, without worries, stress or agony. It was not easy.

As she grew up, Grace lost her temper a lot. She was often nervous, allowing her agitation and fear to overcome her. Uncertainty did not fare well with her. She wanted things to be organised so that she could feel that she had the ability to impose some order in the chaos around her. But that wasn’t always possible.

It was only when she returned to ballet that she remembered. It reminded her that not everything had to be forced. Some things needed calm and patience to work out well and everything took time. It all fell into place at the right moment with the proper strain. The elegance was knowing how to acknowledge that and be prepared for when that moment arrived.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Elegance

The thrill of a parcel

http://www.chopra.com/sites/default/files/field/image/8giftsthatfosterkindnessandcompassion.jpgThere is something inexplicably intriguing with finding a parcel in the post addressed to you. Even if you know what is in it and you’re expecting it, you’re always filled with excitement at the mere sight of it. But when it comes as a surprise, a flood of enthusiasm fills your inside.

Tina found the parcel around noon. She had just returned from work and was looking forward to lying on the couch for the next couple of hours doing nothing, perhaps even dozing off a little. It was a medium-sized brown box. It could contain pretty much anything. But what was in it? And who was it from?

Tina examined it from all sides, but she couldn’t find an answer.

She took it into her flat and began to investigate how she could open it the fastest without causing too much damage to it. She took a scissors and ripped the packing tape holding the two box sides together. Inside was another package. This time in the form of a black-and-white paper envelope. She ripped it open to find a pair of purple woollen mittens.

Tina could barely contain her delight. Mittens for her meant one thing: snow. And as a December child, she loved this delicate white blanket that made everything seem all so magical.

In between the mittens was a small handwritten festive card. Tina read it and began to jump up and down with exhilaration. It was clear whom it was from and she couldn’t wait.

The card said, “are you ready!?

 

The magic season candles

candles_ IMG_20171126_122525_941

©MCD

It’s less than a month away!” miaowed Penny as she raced across the house into the kitchen. There was frost outside that morning and it made it feel all the more like winter. The streets and shops were already decorated, lighting up the magic of the season. For Penny it was more than just “the most wonderful time of the year”. Being a Christmas baby, she of course disliked the fact that everything was crammed into one day that did not entirely belong to her, but she felt it all so much more profoundly, deeply and emotionally. This was her season and she relished it.

This year, her parents decided to begin the season by handcrafting decorations before they turned the house into what could easily be likened to Santa Claus’ home. Her father brought out a huge pot and her mother put on an apron. Penny was curious. There were no ingredients out for cookies or cake. So what was going on?

“We’re going to make candles”, her mother announced. Scented, colourful, big or small they would all have something special because, like her parents always said, “what is made with love, reflects that positiveness and warmth”, and what would be more ideal for this season?

Penny watched as the fluid wax turned into hard candles. She believed she even saw a sparkle glowing from the mixture. And when the first candle was lit that night, she was certain; this was going to be one of the best holiday seasons ever.

The sweet lure

http://gallery.yopriceville.com/Backgrounds/Lollipop_Candy_Background#.WXDf7OlLfIUIt was used as an enticement to lure her into doing the things she should when she was little. To eat all her food, to take a bath, to clean her room, sometimes even to go to school or take something to her aunt’s down the street. A lollipop of any form or taste was her temptation. Antonia could be drawn into doing almost anything if promised candy on a stick.

When she grew older though, the lollipops became less frequent. She had gained a sense of responsibility and obligation and didn’t really need a lure to do the things she knew she should. But at holidays and big events, she would always feel the urge to have one – to feel its stickiness on her fingers and its sweetness on her tongue. It was something she had associated with her childhood and with the innocence that came with it. And it was this that would accompany her own children when time came. It was a sweet lure that would progressively teach them to act without its necessity. Because everyone needs an incentive at first. And a sugary treat is something few can refuse.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Lollipop

Helping the economy

http://oncondado.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/09/SHOPPING-BAGS.jpgThere is a saying that “men go shopping to get want they want; women go shopping to find out what they want”. In fact, females don’t have a very favourable reputation when it comes to shopping. Because put plainly, women can shop all the time, regardless of how much money they (don’t have) and they can never have enough of anything, especially shoes and clothes.

Men supposedly also have a special characteristic – that of being able to constrain themselves. But women…well, when they go shopping, it is very very easy to get carried away. And they more often than not do.

With the advent of online shopping, moreover, it has become all the more easier to get overexcited and buy more things that you need or sometimes can even afford.

Shopping for women has become a form of therapy; something men cannot understand. And this is where the gender differences become more apparent. Because it all comes down to the fact that women are excited to receive something new, even if they spend half their paycheck to get it. And despite visiting numerous stores in search of that perfect – affordable, if possible – item, they will always return to the one they saw first that may have a three-digit price tag, simply because it is a well-known fact that it is the first-view-first-click that will please you the most.

Yes, women are weird. Maybe a bit high-maintenance at times. And very often insane. But they are the ones that fill this world with sunshine. Because no man ever complained when the woman standing next to him looks glamorous wearing all the things she just spent her (or his) wage on

The magic candelabra

janet-webb-french-still-life

©Janet Webb

It was a present from her aunt who always had an aura of mystery surrounding her. She used to dress in sparkles, long, airy dresses and dangling earrings. When she was young, Janet believed her aunt was a descendant of a gypsy witch. But a bit more elegant.

The candelabra decorated her windowsill ever since she moved into her own house. And she believed that it brought with it some of her aunt’s magic. It was in there that she found love and got married, got a promotion, and even won the lottery. It couldn’t have been a simple coincidence.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

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