Lucky Charm - Gerry Hancock

Another ex-boyfriend -

Another ex-boyfriend -

Another ex-boyfriend -

Marie swiped through the screens until eventually she came to a photo of a guy she hadn’t embarrassed herself with.

This guy was dressed in hunting gear but what Marie noticed more was that around his neck hung a pair of binoculars in the brightest shade of pink she had ever seen.

“Brave lad,” she giggled; less in reference to the obvious abuse he would be subjected to by his fellow hunters and more in reference to the bright target the binoculars made him for any voracious prey he might think he was hunting. With those binoculars in that particular shade of pink boyo here would be the real prey!

There’d be no more swiping however, this needed further investigation.

Marie tapped on the icon in the top right of the screen.

Mike it said.

Mechanic it said.

Like hunting and shooting it said.

This could be her lucky day.

Was Mike her lucky charm?

Or was it his pink binoculars?

  

Cathy Beck’s session Picwits session Feb 2023 Annette

 The hour between 6am and 7,

The cracks in between the curtains,

Light streams in,

Alarm clock breaks the nights silence,

Intruding on his sleep,

In another place an exhausted nurse heads home,

Night shift over,

Leaves the overcrowded ward,

Falling into bed,

The hour between 6am and 7,

Cars leave the ordered estate to find their spot in office car parks ,

Working from home is almost over,

The sound of the coffee machine cranks up,

The hour between 6am and 7,

The telephone rings 

“She died peacefully,”

The nurse closes the curtains to respect the dead.

The hour between 6am and 7,

The Ryanair flight takes off for Lanzo,

A family settles in excitedly looking forward to sunnier climes and dreamy days ahead.

Annette Brown

A tidy up of a Picwits quick write from a writing prompt. Annette

 The morning after the night in Thomas Connolly’s snug we felt a walk along Strandhill beach was needed.

With thoughts of the family secrets shared over pints of Rockshore, we needed time to breathe and the gentle lapping of the Atlantic soothed our dull headaches and brought us ease.

Limpets clung to rocks weaving in and out of the sand. The Atlantic waves washed in and out of us as we walked through the squishy sand.

Moving to a piece of firmer sand I could see the majestic sight of ben Bulben under a swirling grey sky bringing back memories of the past. 

By Annette Brown