What Pegman Saw: Say no to yes.

The wind was blowing hard now, peppering Naga’s face with grit. He took a last drag of his cigarette, dropped it, screwed the stub into the dirt with his sneaker.

The sun was low behind the trees, sky burnt orange at the horizon. Where was Maja?

Robbing the convenience store had been her idea. Said she’d seen the clerk bundle notes into a battered tobacco tin, hide it under the counter. The guy was ashy with age, walked with a frame. One look at Maja’s hunting knife and he’d hand the tin over. Sweet and simple, she said. Reluctantly, Naga had agreed.

He blinked, cuffed his eyes.

But the old man had screamed – a weird, trapped rodent noise. He’d stumbled forward, lashed at Maja with his walker. The knife flashed. Naga ran.

Something his mom used to say pinballed through his head.

Say no to yes, beta.

***

Written for What Pegman Saw, the writing prompt that uses Google Street view. This week we are in Cape Disappointment, Washington. See here to join in.

And if you want to know where I found the title, just look at that scabby wall …

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Serial publication: The People’s Friend

Susan’s life is falling apart.

Her village museum – what remains of her family’s estate – is on the verge of bankruptcy, the folly her late father so loved derelict and crumbling. Susan’s son is about to leave home for university and the relationship with her mother, Barbara, is under strain as stories from the past resurface.

Yes, all is not well in the village of Kingsbarrow.

Until Susan meets a tall, sandy haired archaeologist with an interesting proposal …

I’ve been very fortunate in having another of my stories accepted by The People’s Friend magazine. This one is set in the rolling hills of Derbyshire, involves family secrets, painful home truths and a tumble down folly that our heroine finds hard to part with.

The first part of the three part story is due out on the 15th June and the story is called “The Secret Of Kingsbarrow Folly”. The other two parts are out on the 22nd and 29th of this month.

And coincidentally, whilst searching Pixabay for an image to illustrate this post, I found the above – a picture of Solomon’s Temple, my home town of Buxton’s own folly in the Derbyshire hills. Whilst not as picturesquely derelict as my invented Kingsbarrow Folly, I couldn’t resist including Solly’s.

If you love a folly as much as I do, Dinton Folly in Buckinghamshire was the inspiration for Kingsbarrow. It has since been renovated – see here for the transformation.

What Pegman Saw: Calamity Hollow

Alis stared out across the Monongahela River.

Wherever she looked was billowing smoke, from the steelworks to the tug boats and paddle steamers, to the shanty town with its huddle of shacks and stove pipes.

On laundry days her sheets came in dotted with smuts. Every sip of water and bite of bread was gritted, speckled black.

‘Not so different from Merthyr after all,’ Evan had said, wrapping oily arms about her waist.

In a way he was right. Half of Glamorgan seemed to have followed them across the ocean to Pennsylvania and seeing the men trudge home, black faced and bowed was so familiar, she had to nip her arms to remind herself she wasn’t home.

She was lucky to have a life, to have breath and water and food, no matter how tainted.

To have a husband, not a ragged corpse swinging from the gallows back in Wales.

***

Written for What Pegman Saw, the writing prompt that gallops across the world using Google Street View. This week we visit Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

On reading about Pittsburgh, I found an interesting snippet. It seems that in the 1830s many Welsh coal miners and steel workers immigrated to the city after the Merthyr Rising, a protest against working conditions and unemployment. The unrest only lasted a week but during that time several locals and soldiers died. One man was hanged as an example to others.

It’s said that the Merthyr Rising was the first time the red flag was used as a symbol of revolution.

I found Calamity Hollow on the map, on the banks of the Monongahela River.

I imagined Alis being the wife of one of the men who had taken part in the rising. The house pictured is probably too fancy to be that of a coal miner or steel worker, but I imagined Alis standing at that balcony, staring out across the polluted river.

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

Another week, another inspiring location from Karen and Josh at Pegman. This week, it’s Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. My instalment will air tomorrow, but do pop along and write a story yourself.

WHAT PEGMAN SAW

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Today Pegman travels to the City of Bridges. A site of great historical importance in the French and Indian War of the 1750s, Fort Duquesne was built by the French at the confluence of the Allegheny and Monongahela rivers. The British replaced it with Fort Pitt a few years later and the city grew up around the military establishment.

Pittsburgh is an interesting city where skyscrapers tower over 18th-century fortifications and funicular railroads crawl up steep hillsides. Stroll and around and see if you can find something that interests you. When you’re done, write 150 words and link to the prompt using the frog below. Remember, reading and commenting is part of the fun!

Thanks for stopping by, and happy writing!

inlinkz frog

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The Biblical City of Lod

What Pegman Saw is one of my favourite writing prompts. Run by two terrifically talented writers, Josh and Karen, it lures you to distant lands and invites you to explore and let your imagination run amok. Do pop along and take part. My own contribution is scheduled for tomorrow.

WHAT PEGMAN SAW

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Today Pegman travels to Lod, Israel. The town takes its name from the biblical City of Lod, significant Judean town from the Maccabean Period to the early Christian period.

Click on the photo above and feel free to wander around. When you find inspiration, write 150 words on your blog and link it to the other entries via the blue frog below. Remember that reading and commenting is part of the fun!

Do your best and have a good time learning about a new place and the people who may live there.

inlinkz frog

Did you know you can suggest a location for Pegman? We just ask that you check first to see that Pegman is actually allowed in the place. Much of China and Africa remain uncharted by Google Street View, though sometimes you can find photospheres.

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What Pegman Saw: Cisco’s mission

Image : Google Street View

Every day Cisco sat in the Plaza De Armas, overlooked by the Cathedral and the Jesuit Iglesia.

When drizzle speckled his lashes he pulled up his hood. When the sun blazed he did the same, ignoring the children selling day trips to the mountains or alpaca wool hats. The young hawkers would stare with their deep, curious eyes before scurrying after tourists with deep pockets.

All the while, he’d try to keep the same scene running through his mind and when his rumbling stomach or stiff limbs distracted him, guilt would descend like a cloud. Because how else would God know what he wanted – what his family needed – if he couldn’t keep the image clear in his head?

The kitchen at home. Mama at the stove. The scent of chilli chicken.

Papa walking in through the back door, face wide with a smile.

***

Written for What Pegman Saw, the prompt that uses Google Street View as its jumping off point. See here to join in and to read other tales.

Friday Fictioneers: The simplest act


PHOTO PROMPT© Sandra Crook

There lies Fournier the weaver.

His head is bare, curled wig lost to the Thames. The coral pink silk stockings of which he was so proud are torn and muddied, rucked at the ankle.

The constable will seek answers, question the Spitalfields’ innkeepers and lightermen, turn beady eyes on fellow weavers, those resentful of this recent miasma of incomers.

But murder is often the simplest act.

There lies a bloated panderer who plucked a goose too close to home, turned those clever fingers to a guild man’s daughter.

A sharp knife and the river remedy all.

***

Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Field’s Friday Fictioneers. Write a tale and join in here.

Notes

Spitalfields is part of the East End in London, once well known for its silk weavers and a refuge for French Huguenots fleeing religious intolerance in their own country.

Fournier is one of these Huguenot weavers, Calvinist Protestants who made their home in the East End during the eighteenth century. They were not always welcomed by the English, especially by native weavers who saw them as a threat to their trade.

Lightermen where boatmen who ferried goods in flat bottomed barges along the Thames.