I’ve Got You Now -June 21: Flash Fiction Challenge


June 21, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about “not all is lost.” It can include recovery from disaster, an unexpected insight after a fall, or however the phrase moves you. Go where the prompt leads.

Respond by June 26, 2018.

Rules are here

Charli’s challenge gave me pause for thought and my offering touches on the issue of comfort that appears at a low point in life.  A cautionary tale with a twist…


unclelkt, Pixabay

I’ve got you now, hold on tight. The fall hurt, you’re bleeding. I’m so sorry you decided to take this course of action. I didn’t realise you heard, damn me for being so selfish! I didn’t need help, just acting out like a spoilt child.

I can’t hear what you’re saying. Does your throat hurt? What you must think of me. Your eyes are so sad, I can’t bear to look at them. Hold still, I’ll wipe the blood off you. Sorry, so sorry! Your beautiful wings, torn and charred. Can you ever forgive me, my dear guardian angel?


Clothed in Light and Beauty


G4889166, Pixabay

The Summer Solstice is a time of rejoicing for many people, regardless of their spiritual path. The return of Light after what has seemed like a sojourn in the Underworld brings hope and renewed energy. This present world is sorely in need of such things.

I hadn’t planned any celebrations this year, but decided on the spur of the moment to book dinner for my partner and I today.  A mini-celebration and way of giving thanks for all the good things in my life. Both of us are in need of Light at the moment…

Apart from that what can I say in this little post? Perhaps spin a tale of one who stands on the shore of an ancient coast and waits on the sunrise. Again it’s a member of a long forgotten priesthood, enacting a primordial ritual. Or so it seems. Such things seem dreamlike and distant when viewed through the lens of modern eyes.

Should I give this priestess honey coated words to offer to the god of Light who waits just below the horizon? A place separating the Seen and Unseen, and offering revelations when the veils between the worlds are lifted.

Veils, it always seems to be about veils. In our mind’s eye we glimpse a face beneath the layers of sheer material. The divine visage is not to be faced but only hinted and marvelled at. Mysteries aren’t always meant to be revealed. So, here stands our veiled priestess who stands on the shore of an ancient coast and waits on the sunrise. Who waits on the god of Light, to clothe her in Light.

The silence stretches beyond the horizon, holding its breath in anticipation. Our priestess murmurs prayers coated in honey and spice, exhorts the god of Light to show his face. She pulls through the power and cascades it like water poured upon the Earth; nourishes spirit as well as body.

The energy hums as she slowly lifts her hands in supplication. Then, over the horizon peeks the first gold and flame tipped rays. He comes! Her heart swells in joy, and her words are devoured joyfully by the god of Light. He rises majestically in the sky, at that moment our priestess lifts her veils and shows him her glorious beauty.

She whose name is whispered reverently is clothed in Light and Beauty. Together they usher in life renewed.

May you all be clothed in Light and Beauty like our priestess. Have a good day.



Orkney Celebrates the Summer Solstice — The Orkney News

I haven’t been able to prepare anything in time for the Solstice (will do by tonight though). Here’s a post relating to celebrations in the Orkney Islands. A wonderful place to visit.

The summer solstice this year was celebrated in Orkney at the Comet Stone, the Ring of Brodgar.

via Orkney Celebrates the Summer Solstice — The Orkney News

Scrambled – Twittering Tales #89 – 19 June 2018


Photo by MabelAmber at Pixabay.com

Kat’s Twittering Tales challenge this week presents a particularly problematic issue that has plagued humans for centuries.  One that’s confounded great minds of philosophy, metaphysics and spirituality – did the egg come before the chicken, or vice versa? We open on a therapy session in full flow:

Egg: I feel a deep sense of alienation, angry at having to answer that damn question all the time.

Analyst: How long have you felt that?

Egg: Since being in…Chicken or egg, egg or chicken? It’s like the Ouroboros, endless, eternal and unknowable. Help me!
(Breaks out of egg)

(278 characters)


Kat on her challenge this week:

A photo of an empty shell by Mabel Amber at Pixabay.com. Now, you could go all jurassic with this (the latest Jurassic Park film opens here in the States this weekend, so advertisements are flooding the airways), or you could take a philosophical approach. You could answer that age old question, “which came first?” You know the one I mean. At any rate if you decide to join the challenge this week, be sure to have fun with it. And remember 280 characters or less.

A final note: if you need help tracking the number of characters in your story, there is a nifty online tool that will count for you at charactercountonline.com.















Cream of Rice Pudding with Apricot Compote — hanadykitchen.com

Rice pudding has been elevated to greater heights in this recipe. Sounds rather divine!

Food and hospitality underpin civilisation. They symbolise cultural identity and spirit of a people and nation. We invest our memories and desires in them, above all we take comfort in the way they nourish our hunger (on so many levels).

This cream of rice pudding is infused with orange blossom, rose, and nostalgia-inducing mastic. A decadent topping of apricot, saffron, and honey compote is the grand finale in this show of flavors. I love making this in the summer months as it provides for a delicate and cooling dessert on a hot evening. This dessert […]

via Cream of Rice Pudding with Apricot Compote —

An ear to the ground — The Art of Enchantment blog

This is such a beautiful post, really gets to the heart of our relationship with the land. It will resonate with many people…

‘We think that we imagine the land, but perhaps the land imagines us, and in its imaginings it shapes us. The exterior landscape interacts with our interior landscape, and in the resulting entanglements, we become something more than we otherwise could ever hope to be.’ from The Enchanted Life, by Sharon Blackie

via An ear to the ground — The Art of Enchantment

Con Amore (With Love)


My posts of late have been infused with introspection and pathos, so a little “light relief” is in order. I jokingly call myself a ”non-poet’ (a label my Muse considers strange and wishes I would just ‘get on with it’). So, I’m getting on with it.

Con amore. With love do I brush the curve of your cheek and wicked smile.

Feel the crispness of your hair,

Beneath my fingers.

Con amore. With love do I savour the Feel of your neck on my shoulder, Breathe your scent in deeply,

And whisper words of unbecoming.

Con amore. With love do we enfold the other, each being elemental power,

Fire and Ice of worlds ancient.

Con amor. With love are we wedded,

To mysteries unveiling,

Of silent but potent yearnings.

Fire and Ice of worlds ancient.

Solar Fire: The Regeneration of Amunet


One of my favourite characters, Amunet, has reappeared for this post. We last saw her in  Betrayed: The Priestess Retreats. I’ve been thinking about her, wondering where her adventures are going next. Funny how you can become attached to your creations, although she’s more than that. She’s my alter ego, but doesn’t wear superheroine knickers over tights, and has neither cape nor mask. Admittedly my life isn’t as exciting as hers, but we share common ground. Amunet or Amaunet was originally one of eight primeval deities in the ancient Egyptian Hermopolitan creation myth.

The Eight signified creative and elemental principles, and existed in the primordial waters of Nun before creation of this world. Being was created out of non-Being from the sum of all their powers. So who were the Eight?

They were four frog headed male principles and four serpent headed female principles:

Amun and Amunet – personification of invisibility, that which is hidden.

Heh and Hehet – personification of infinite space.

Kek and Keket – personification of darkness.

Nun and Nunet – personification of the Primeval waters.


Free-Photos, Pixabay

I leave it up to you dear readers to come to what conclusions you may. You may see a pattern here…

As for my heroine, she’s taken many forms over time but can we say that we really know her true essence? Amunet has worn many masks, shedding each at the moment of our illumination. She took material form in order to understand human experience, a task that’s been challenging and filled with sublime beauty and sacrificial blood, her own. The Alchemist was born in elemental Fire, regenerates in it and shall return to the heart of its greatest personification when her task is completed, being the Sun. She was a Priestess of the Sun God Ra at one time, so perhaps appropriate. There are no endings for her, only great Cosmic cycles of creation and transformation. This is the canvas on which her journey is painted. I hope you’re still with me.


Engin_Akyurt, Pixabay

The regeneration in this post alludes to that of spirit and heart, essential elements comprising the “I” that exists at this moment in time. She’s known love and friendship deeply, as well as loss and danger. A person of her quality and abilities has been subject to envy and malice from others, has held power and position only to walk away from them. She’s a Mystic, whose path is a solitary one mainly. It’s a time of gathering knowledge and looking within. Hence coming to a place in the heavens, to a vantage point from which she and Anubis can survey Solar Fire.


The fire in my blood ignites, yearns to embrace the greater Fire that waits before us. It calls to me mighty Anpu, He calls my name in dreams and waking states, Ra can see the sum of all that I have been and am.


What of Amun my Amunet? Will the Hidden Ones reunite?


The entity that is Amunet the Priestess of Ra shall return to his heart and the Amunet that is the Hidden One shall return to the First Time (Zep Tepi). Opposites shall reconcile and all return to an original state. Then my task is complete.


 (Touches her forehead). The womb of creation and disintegration.


(Smiles at him). You know me so well my beloved companion and protector.


(Touches her cheek gently). Can you hear that my Amunet? The Fire stirs, He waits for your answer. The Universe holds its breath, anticipates a new era.


I thought I knew myself but it seems not. Aspects of myself fall like pomegranate seeds, ruby tears that leave an indelible mark on the fabric of the Universe. I can taste their sweet and tart flavour, such is the experience of regeneration.


So many have come before me my Amunet, crumbled into dust, their names so fervently carved on the tombs only to be worn away by wind and sand. What is left for them then? Are their names spoken, given honour? Such things are ephemeral, except for the love and truth of their hearts. (Sighs). It is time.


RafaelMousob, Pixabay

Amunet walks towards the immense, glowing ball of fire that is the Sun, Ra in his outer form, the true essence hidden deep within its heart. The flames flow out to embrace and gather her into the interior. She feels the fire in her blood respond to the greater fire. Brilliant light sears the spirit within and every cell in her body. The Phoenix approaches the time of her regeneration as her feathers reduce to ash. Her cry echoes throughout the Universes. Anubis stands by impassively, witness to a scene that has played out since before Time had been compartmentalised by humanity. He will wait for eternity until her transformation has been completed.


WikiImages, Pixabay


(Closes his eyes and uses his staff to beat out a rhythm, creating a vortex). The music of the Universe begins its song of lamentation, sheds its tears of mourning, and then shouts its joy. The time of rebirth approaches, come Hathor, come Bes, guard this place of childbirth.

Two figure emerge from the darkness between the stars, the goddess Hathor and god Bes. Another cry echoes throughout the created Universe. The triad form a triangle of power, keep the energy contained as “childbirth” commences. A winged figure then emerges from the flames, her feathers shimmer with a beautiful iridescence. Glowing eyes of light survey the star filled heavens and then stare at the figure of Anubis. He holds out his hands. She clasps them and then looks at us. It is done and the journey goes on. The saga continues.


Comfreak, Pixabay


The First Mound: Beginnings #writephoto


Image: Sue Vincent

For Sue’s Thursday Photo Prompt I return to ancient Egypt for my offering. The tale then moves to our present time, and new beginnings.

If you’re acquainted with the myth of the First Mound rising from the waters of Nun, you’ll understand where I’m coming from. Beginnings and endings interest me. This creation myth originated in the ancient city of Hermopolis and involves a set of eight deities, the Ogdoad, existing in the chaotic and endless waters of Nun. The location is one before existence of the world and first land come into being.

These frog and serpent headed deities swim in dark waters, in a Universe bereft of light and sound. It exists in a place outside of time and space, nascent, waiting, gestating. The action of the waters is endless, eerie even to eyes ancient and modern. Thoth stands witness to the scene, drawing our attention to Nun and the potentiality he contains. For Nun is an ancient god, ever-present in a world that hasn’t come into being yet. We the audience wait, witness to a sacred drama played out over millions and millions of years.

Silence stretches into infinity, intense and weighted with the memories of the Eight. Water also has memories, instilled with the essence of a Time before Time. Dare we take a sip of something so potent? Thoth looks at us knowingly, he knows what our thoughts are and the deep currents running through our Souls. We are inextricably linked to these ancient waters, place of all beginnings and also our own ancestral birthplace. The waters meanwhile continue to ebb and flow strongly. They carry the thoughts of the Eight, tell of their plans for this Universe. We hear their faint whispers in our heads, old, so old and so unfamiliar.

We ask ourselves ‘where and when did I begin?’ and Thoth answers ‘in the First Time.’

This makes us pause and leaves us grasping for clarity and answers. He points out they lie within.  The Eight echo his words but we are unable to understand them, or refuse to in our fear and puzzlement. The waters of Nun crash against each other, stir the endless depths, mix the soup and matrix of life. The tension builds, there is a pregnant pause (!), how appropriate. The silence deepens, hurts our senses. The Eight sing a song so mesmerizing we almost yearn to jump into the waters but are held back by the God of Wisdom, Magic and Mysteries. Our time of Becoming is not now but waits in the shadows.

Then, everything freezes, Time freezes, as if it ever existed! The waters churn and boil for an eternity. They part as the First Mound rises from the depths, a pyramidal shape being the first land and the First Temple. It rises in magnificence, the tip radiating out an intense Light that pierces the Eternal Darkness and Silence. ‘Let There Be Light!’ a shout goes out. Fiat Lux!

One Beginning unfolds, and a myriad of others yet to unfold as the Eight take to the depths, waiting, listening and watching. As for us, we turn our eyes towards the distant future that is our present. Our eyes reflect the mysteries witnessed, the visions flow out and create new beginnings for us. Ones that hold a germ of the Eternal Mysteries, of memories buried deep within our brains, waiting to be unlocked and perused.


Offering To The Land: June 14 Flash Fiction Challenge


June 14, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes a bouquet. You can explore the meaning of the word or gather a bunch of flowers. Go where the prompt leads.

Respond by June 19, 2018.

Rules are here.

It’s been a while since I participated in the Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction challenge, and this week Charli has provided a lovely prompt. What else could I do but jump in there!

She stood looking at the expanse of wild meadow with wonder. It was a rolling carpet of vibrant colour and scent, touched with the kiss of golden sunlight. Truly heaven!

The elders of the tribe had chosen her to carry the offering of garden flowers. A gift to the land as thanks for retreat of the great ice sheets, and continual good harvests.

She waited for a sign from the land that the gift had been accepted. Silence fell, then a sweet wind moved over the meadow. The Guardian came slowly forward and kissed her gently on the forehead.