MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “entertainment”

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

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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

The depth of forever

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/ec/e9/ac/ece9acfd319b501e473f12dd8cf85c9b.jpgThe message said simply “look beyond what you see”.

He looked to the left, to the right, in front, at the back, sideways, even upside down, but he couldn’t see anything. He began to think it was a trick. Or a prank. He grew tired and, instead, persuaded himself that there was nothing there. But, somehow, he couldn’t leave without discovering something. His godmother wouldn’t leave things so mysterious. There must have been something.

The boy stood there almost an entire afternoon, staring at the horizon and beyond, filling his mind with fantasies of what could have been.

But at that very moment when the sun began to fade, the sky turned orange. It separated the horizon into blue, caramel and yellow, playing with the few clouds that accompanied the disappearing light.

His entire body shivered, not because it was cold, but because of awe and amazement.

He stared at the light quickly fading, with the colours changing faster than you could catch your eyes blinking. It was a few moments in which he was lost, forgetting everything and everyone else and just staring into the infinity of a few minutes that seemed forever.

Sometimes forever is just a few seconds, she had told him.

He had finally understood.

The rain of fate

ted-struts-in-the-rain

©Ted Strutz

They had planned this trip for weeks and they were determined not to allow the weather to change anything. They had packed everything and filled up the car, persuading themselves that they would have the time of their lives.

The rain evolved from tiny drops to thunder and hail.

They were told to turn their lights on and be extra careful at the harbour, particularly when entering the ship.

The sea itself became restless.

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea?” Matilda already began to worry. Perhaps destiny did not want them on that ship.

It’ll be fine,” he replied.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The cat on the pier

http://media.gettyimages.com/photos/view-of-cat-sitting-on-pier-picture-id565807123?s=612x612Hannah was surprised to see it there. It appeared silently right next to her. She didn’t even realise it came. But they always seemed to appear when needed the most. It was usually a dog that care around bouncing all happily without a care in the world. That she expected. They always had a way of cheering you up. Just by looking at them and the way they run around wagging their little tails. Some even look like they’re laughing. It was just impossible to stay mad or upset at the sight of them.

But this, this was strange.

The little cat sat there, straight up, tail wrapped around its front legs. It was fluffy white and seemed indifferent to everything that was going on around it. People tried to call it, but it listened to none.

Then it turned its little head, its small, round, golden eyes reflecting the setting sun’s rays. And it met her gaze. Hannah was dumbfounded. She couldn’t believe it was ever possible to feel such serenity through a simple gaze, and indeed, from a four-footed creature. The cat tilted its head sideways as it continued to stare into Hannah’s eyes.

Hannah took out a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped the tears that were still dripping from her eyes. The cat slowly got up and moved towards her, arching its back and beginning to purr. Once close to Hannah it began to brush against her, asking for some patting. Hannah touched its head with the tip of her fingers. With a single move it rotated its head around her hand and moved ever closer, its purr now reverberating on Hannah’s body. It was soothing. The cat managed to divert all of her attention on it that she soon forgot the reason she was so upset.

They sat there for a while, the cat purring at her side, and Hannah patting it, relaxed and calm. They watched the sun set into the sea, and then the cat suddenly got up, stretched and disappeared, as silently and abruptly as it had arrived.

The off-course bus

http://ttvalueinvesting.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/route.jpgIt arrived on time and appeared just like any other of its type. It had four double doors symmetrically situated across one end, large windows, and an advertisement painted across both sides. From its exterior, it seemed like a normal bus. Even inside, it did not differ from others – it had enough space for passengers to be seated or standing and it was in great condition. Almost new. But there was something that made this bus special. You couldn’t tell at first. And most of all, you never expected what would come.

You would stop the bus at the stop and get on, maybe even find a seat. You presumed it would take you to your destination – the city centre – relatively quickly. But half way there, the bus would suddenly change course. If you were too distracted in your own thoughts it would take you a while to realise you were off course. Others would acknowledge it as soon as the bus took a “wrong” turn. Some passengers would react. Others would stress that they would be late for their appointments. Some others would simply remain silent, waiting to see what would happen. The driver would not respond to any.

After a while, you would realise the bus was not going to the city centre. The passengers that reacted intensely would soon tire and be quiet. And as the bus took an unknown route, almost all passengers would begin to plan scenarios in their head of where they would end up. These ranged from a serial killer bus driver that would throw them off a cliff, to a surprise destination where a millionaire would host a party to advertise a new acquisition. You would conjure in your head whatever you wanted, but you would be well aware that expectation was always the root of all disappointment. So you would try and pretend that you didn’t care where the bus was going.

After a long while, the bus would return to its course and, taking double time, would end up at the city centre, where it was supposed to be going in the first place. But, during that route, all passengers would have calmed down and, lost in their thoughts, dreams and mental to-do-lists, would not realise they had arrived. That was the point of this bus – to make you understand that what matters most is the route and how you get to your destination, not so much your final point of arrival.

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