MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “entertainment”

Electoral Encounters

©LIsa Fox

They had headed up North for the elections. It was one of the craziest, most irrational, and insane months of the past decade, marred by conflicts, foul language, and political incorrectness at all levels.

But she enjoyed having returned home for the vote. It was a chance for a mini-holiday to a place she knew well. And with people she knew since forever.

All but him.

She bumped into him on a snowy slope, when they were huddling over the best view of the town. She slipped in the snow and fell straight onto him.

That was how it begun.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Tell noone

https://t3.ftcdn.net/jpg/01/82/68/62/360_F_182686221_Yh5l0x1UWiqSAKNDXgOe9TkYsXtrHTgg.jpg

Tell noone”.

It was how the note ended. The most important instruction given. Her most compromising mission yet.

Ever since she began working as an undercover agent, Maggie was forced to surpass her limits many times. She found she had to repress natural instincts on many occasions; to act differently than she normally would; to think more about the impact of her actions.

But now, she was called to act in absolute secrecy and utmost confidentiality.

She would have to hide the truth from the people she loved to keep them safe. But that would mean lying to them. And she couldn’t stomach that.

She came to terms with the fact that she could simply say nothing at all, mainly by avoiding them for as long as the mission lasted. She invented numerous excuses to get out of seeing people so she wouldn’t have to respond to their inquiries.

It was difficult doing things without showcasing them. Because this is the world we live in now – if we don’t demonstrate our lives, it’s as if we don’t have one.

But she had to withdraw from it all, precisely to be able to safeguard life.

Visions unknown

@gio_quasirosso

He was haunted by his dreams at night. Or anytime he fell asleep really. He couldn’t find comfort in allowing himself to drift off. It scared him. Because of the visions that would appear. They weren’t just disturbing nightmares like he thought at first. They were truths, prophecies waiting to be fulfilled. And he was often helpless at preventing them because they occurred somewhere he knew nothing of, to people he could not even recognise. But the news always proved his dreams were more than that. And he was powerless against them.

When he met her, he was terrified.

He fell in love with her from the minute she laid eyes on him, and she smiled so brightly, probably because she realised that.

He kept falling deeper in love with her in every passing day. He wanting to give her the world, simply because she never asked for it. She was there, like a silent support pillar, despite knowing nothing of his torment.

But somehow, in her arms he could fall asleep; drift into a dreamless REM, and wake up without anguish, fear, abhor at what may occur during the day. She was his remedy, without knowing it; she was essential to him.

The day she was departing for a trip, he knew something was wrong. He could feel it pulsing in every minute pore of his body. There was something not right. He didn’t want to let her go. But she hugged him tightly, kissed him gently, and reassured him that everything was going to be fine. She had that positive vibe constantly glowing in her aura, and it made her sweeter, even more charming, and so difficult to resist. He wanted to believe her, even though his instinct reacted otherwise.

When she closed the door to the cab at the airport, he could feel his entire world shatter to pieces.

What rocked the boat

© Penny Gadd

What’s the best memory you have of the trip?

He pondered for a while, his eyes gazing away and suddenly sparkling. A smile timidly spread across his face.

The boat ride across the river”.

He paused, breathed in the emotion and continued: “I didn’t think it would be anything mind-blowing, but I decided to go along anyway, given it was a must-do sightseeing. The water was far from clean, so we were all extra careful about potentially falling in”. He laughed.

We saw an alligator crawl in a few metres away. But that wasn’t what changed me. It was she…

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Unreasonable requisite

There was only one piece of paper missing. He couldn’t find it anywhere. But it was driving him crazy.

He had already gone to the Department twice before.

The first time they said it was “preferable” that he had that specific certificate.

The second time that it was “highly recommended”.

Now, suddenly, it had become a requisite.

It was a simple page of processed timber that proved he had a qualification, which he obviously could demonstrate he knew – the language he spoke.

Yet, a paper could apparently demonstrate it better than his own tongue.

Reason has no limits.

Also part of Weekend Writing Prompt #217

Blind date

©Dale Rogerson

They had been chatting online and then on the phone for weeks. They had become part of each other’s daily routine and they soon became one another’s vital interlocutor for anything that occurred, no matter how small or irrelevant. Their talks never began conventionally; having acquired their unique way of discussing things.

He had created an image of her in his mind, of how she would supposedly look. How he wanted her to.

She too had mentally painted his appearance.

At their long-awaited date at the fair, they found they were nothing like their imagination.

But did that really matter?

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Dim footsteps

© Liz Young

Come, follow me”, she said as soon as he approached.

She was dressed in black and it scared him. He didn’t know her very well, yet something about her intrigued him. He allowed himself to be lured by her; to be led into dark passageways and alleys he never knew existed.

He could only see worn-out heels decisively hitting the ground before him.

She led him into a cave-like entry that opened up into a beautiful back yard. She offered a drink.

How he ended up behind the wheel of a crashed car the next morning, is beyond his memory.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Monsoon

© Dale Rogerson

They were warned it was monsoon season. But they went anyway.

They were told it was worse than they thought it would be. But they ignored the cautions.

They believed it would be an ideal getaway regardless. A change from life itself. They saw it as an adventure; a once-in-a-lifetime journey.

They were exhorted to think again; because some things are more ideal in our heads. But they disregarded the heed.

They flew there in excitement, snubbing the alarm that was raised.

They lived it all in a single night.

And stayed together, even in the end of the world.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Also part of Your Daily Word Prompt

Sparking joy

His name was Elfy and he was…well…an Elf. He lived in the North Pole ever since he could remember. He was born there, actually. His father had been appointed head of Santa’s tech team and he transferred his entire family there just months after Elfy’s older brother was born.

Elfy was raised in the most wonderful place in the world, according to most children – and some adults too. He grew up near a person many didn’t even believe existed.

When he was young, he did not understand why so many people worked so hard all year round for just one day, and why so many material things were created to be used scarcely and to then demand even more of them.

Elfy disliked the entire process for another reason as well: he was born on Christmas day.

Having a Christmas birthday is both a blessing and a misfortune.

But one year, he realised that things only take the perspective you choose to give them.

He was handing out presents on his birthday, even though he received few – if any – in return, most even forgetting it was a particularly special day for him.

Those closest to him though would find ways to make him feel grateful.

For example, his best friend who was called Gnome, although that wasn’t his birth name. He was short and chubby and everyone burdened him with chores, because he would just not say ‘no’ to anyone. He was the type who would give his whole self, but nobody gave back anything to him. But that did not stop his good nature.

Elfy loved him, although he sometimes felt Gnome was allowing others to exploit him to the maximum.

When they were still children, Elfy didn’t know what to give Gnome for Christmas one year. It was a problem when you had it all. Literally. He remembered though that Gnome usually complained that his feet were constantly cold and he couldn’t sleep at night. So he got him a fluffy pair of woollen socks, beautifully wrapped up in a box with a red bow. Gnome was surprised and emotional at the sight. It was a present that was useful to him and signified that he had a friend who cared and above all, listened.

It was then that Elfy realised that giving a gift could spark joy just as much – or possibly even more – than receiving one. Because in giving you get the chance of making someone else happy. You create happiness and spread joy. And that is the entire point of the holiday, anyway.

“We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give” – W. Churchill

A battle of histrionics

He had been accustomed to tantrums since he was a child.

His histrionics were the key to getting his own way.

They continued as he got older.

People would give him what he wanted to simply stop the wailing.

Until she came along.

He had met his match.

Also part of Weekend Writing Prompt #181

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