h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

MID-LIFE CRISIS


Mirror, Mirror, friend or foe?
Forty years my guest,
Once the smallest, freshest, flawless
Features you possessed -

Smiling boldly back at me,
Proud and at your best,
Envied, praised, spirits raised,
Confidence expressed -

Ever honest, ever clear,
Kindly you'd reflect,
Till an age prone to change
Caused you to detect -

Stretch marks merged with cellulite,
Tell-tale signs of stress,
Sags and bags, unshapely rags,
Middle-aged excess -

Sallow skinned double chins,
Bulges round the waist,
Greying hair... What's down there
Growing out of place?!

Mirror, mirror, friend or foe?
The latter, I suspect
When even you don't rate the view
What more could I expect?


Carrieann

MID-LIFE CRISIS


Mirror, Mirror, friend or foe?
Forty years my guest,
Once the smallest, freshest, flawless
Features you possessed -

Smiling boldly back at me,
Proud and at your best,
Envied, praised, spirits raised,
Confidence expressed -

Ever honest, ever clear,
Kindly you'd reflect,
Till an age prone to change
Caused you to detect -

Stretch marks merged with cellulite,
Tell-tale signs of stress,
Sags and bags, unshapely rags,
Middle-aged excess -

Sallow skinned double chins,
Bulges round the waist,
Greying hair... What's down there
Growing out of place?!

Mirror, mirror, friend or foe?
The latter, I suspect
When even you don't rate the view
What more could I expect?


Carrieann

Moderate to Good

There was a time….oh, never mind,
‘tis better to have loved and all that.
Quiet in the house.
Just the radio and me……
and there are warnings of gales
in all areas except Fitzroy and Trafalgar.


Another coffee, another cigarette
and the memory of all that.
Warm in the house.
Just the radio and me
and in southeast Iceland backing northwest
severe gale nine to violent storm eleven.


Pen in my hand. A doodled face
reminds me of all that was… and now?
Just the radio and me
and in Shannon West, gale eight to storm ten
but later, later it will be moderate to good.

Spiderbaby

Paradise Lost?


I was allowed in a playground,
for a while, with other children
from my neighbourhood.
We climbed the frames
and went head down the slides
but always pushed each other
higher on the swings.


Milkstone

posted by The Sundance Kid(Captain of the Good Ship Necromancer) | posted Yesterday
To save Get Writing is my plee
For those of us we all agree
This place is grand you understand
Around the world we are hand and hand
To say with truth, honour and glory
We like it here we have our story
Of love to talk amoungst all who subcribe
My feelings on this I can not hide
To lose a part of all we are
To look for a replacement we have gone far
A reprieve is all we ask of you
To shut us down we will be blue

One more Plee of Compassion title

Quicksand

Love is quicksand.
You dither on the edge a while
feeling quite safe
then you step forward.

You can feel the slight sinking
beneath your feet,
but you think you're ok still
one step back and you're
where you were, before

So far so good.
You take another step
that sinking feeling again,
but now beneath your heart,
feels nice.

Everyday life disappears
New priorities take shape and
You step forward again
emboldened by your belief

The sinking now takes on a power
Uncertain, you try to return
Only to find the more you struggle
the further in you go

You realise then that
you've gone too far
to even hope of backtracking,
of saving yourself.

Knowing you can't go back
You go further forward
but the sands close around you
tighter. Give up the fight.

And as you wonder how you
were ever this stupid,
you watch the quicksand
disguised as love
swallow your heart.
Whole.

Scribbler

Secret Chambers

Sedated, they slept; one girl, one boy, little more than infants, yet abandoned and incarcerated in a way which would, at one time, have surely defyed comprehension, been branded by most as cruel, barbaric, injust; inhumane. But time had passed, the world had changed and now, not only was it considered acceptable, but indeed, only right, that these children (along with many others like them whose freedom had once known no bounds) be segregated from the rest of society, suitably subdued and forever locked away in purpose built chambers, location unknown, in the midst of a fortress-style maze.

Solely at the mercy of their captors, they existed now behind bars; alive but unnurtured, spirit broken, all but extinct. Forsaken by those who had once shown them love, there was little chance of release. Their family and friends, their parents, perhaps, shed the odd wistful tear, but content with their memories, even they had no real desire to search for the ones they had lost; no wish to resurrect the past. Any such mission, however successful, could only prove a failure in itself; the end result catastrophic.

For the captors, life could be easy or hard, depending entirely on the personality of the child to whom they were assigned.
Kate and Alan Harper were amongst the most fortunate. For them, major crises were quite obsolete.

They had been married twelve years. At thirty six and thirty seven years of age respectively, they had worked hard all of their adult lives. She run a small but popular florists. He had steadily climbed the corporate ladder to become head of a successful clothing firm. They were, on the whole, a quiet, well adjusted couple. Financially secure and socially accepted, they were known to their friends as the perfect partnership. Their two young daughters and their son were the perfect example of how children ought to be; polite, well-mannered and disciplined. "Good timing and structured routines make for concrete foundations both personally and professionally," Alan had been known to tell all those who listened. And with his wife in agreement, it seemed the Harpers had to be right. They seemed as solid as a rock.

Had it been an option to demolish the secret chambers and cut the forgotten children out of their lives for good, Kate and Alan would have done so without a second thought. Their duties towards them may have been light, but every now and again, their charges could prove a nuisance.

Sometimes the girl would cry, never loudly, but quietly under cover of darkness when tears seemed her only release. By day she rarely complained, but invisible as it was, the cross which she bore consequently became Kate's. A tear-stained face was hardly a welcoming sight! Had it been noticed by anyone of importance, it would only have served as poor reflection on herself. Her abilities as a captor would have been questioned, causing no end of worry and stress. Even her husband would have been judgemental, seeing her failings for what they were - a weakness; an inability to cope, to rise above the situation and take control. She therefore owed it to him - and to herself - to tread very carefully where the girl was concerned and nip the crying in the bud the best she knew how.

More often than not, this would mean Kate had to visit the chambers early in the morning, at a time when it was extremely unlikely anyone else was around. Insisting that this was "nothing a breath of fresh air wouldn't solve", she would take her charge under her wing, ushering her into a quiet part of the maze in order to give her time to reflect. There she would issue a lecture on the importance of keeping one's emotions in check - and this seemed to do the trick. All sense of despair adequately suppressed, the girl could then be passively led back from whence she came and Kate could, in the light of a brand new day, set about her usual tasks with no one being any the wiser. How she envied her husband's formidable sense of command. The boy to whom he was assigned seemed never to pose a problem at all!

This wasn't, however, strictly true. Certainly, tears were never an issue where the boy was concerned. Rather, when provoked, he did have an annoying tendancy to sulk. He despised the unwelcome presence of strangers, their loathesome little charges who expected him to join in their mind-numbing games. Didn't they know he was classed as highly intelligent? Brains were dangerous and this was the reason why he was securely locked away. If anyone could plan a successful escape it was him. Not that this was likely - for where would he go?

Still, he enjoyed toying with the idea, especially at night and particularly when forced to put up with that irritating winging from the girl who shared his space. She thought he couldn't hear! How wrong she was!

Alan Harper tended to tackle the boy's moods sensibly. He encouraged interaction with like-minded individuals and helped burn off his pent up frustrations on the football field.

It was during a game of football that Alan first encountered Maz. A stranger to the area, a little younger than himself, he noticed her straight away. Not only was she extremely attractive, in a wild, abandoned kind of way, but also, it was highly unusual for any of the female captors to find themselves ventuing into this particular part of the maze. Football was for men. When girls played it wasn't the same. The passion was missing. The spirit was gone. Why was this woman here?

He watched the stranger with interest as she encouraged her sprightly young charge to take to the field, kicking off with an air of confidence. The way the girl handled the ball, dodging each tackle with such expertise, the boys didn't stand a chance! One minute into the game came a goal. Ten minutes later another. By the end of the first half, she had scored her first ever hat-trick and when the final whistle blew with the score at seven-nil, it wasn't merely the members of the losing team who felt deflated, but the boys on the winning side too! Alan's charge who, today had been so proud to have been chosen as both captain and striker of the defeated team, was now completely at a loss! He had always been considered one of the best (if not, indeed, the best) player on side, but that girl had run rings around him! She who, along with captor Maz, was now whooping with delight, was unlike any other girl he had ever known in his life.

To say the day's events had taken the wind out of Alan's sails, couldn't begin to describe how he felt. This was highly irregular. Unethical even. Something had to be said - to be done - before it all got out of hand. The boys were playing up. Already he could see the captors encountering problems. Some were aggressive, others on edge. Even his own charge appeared a little more excitable than usual. Alan hated having to be the one to broach others on a potentially delicate subject, but on this occasion, he felt compelled.

"Excuse me, it's Maz isn't it?"
"Yes, that's right. I reckon every guy in the place knows my name by now," the lady smiled, "How can I help?"
All of a sudden, transfixed by the seductive way she tossed her hair over her shoulder, Alan felt lost for words. "Er... I just wanted to say well done. You certainly played a blinder there. That game was something else."

Before he knew it, and without giving Kate a second thought, Alan found himself arranging a date with Maz for that evening. He led his young charge back to the chambers, forgetting to lock him in.

On arriving back where he belonged, the boy was glad to find himself alone. The girl was probably out somewhere crying again, he mused. But what did he care? Stretching his arms out like wings, he swooped around the chamber. "Look I can fly!" he announced, making the sound of a plane soaring through the sky. "Hey, look at me!" Amused by his own actions, he chuckled for a while, then stopped. That girl! As yet he couldn't get over how fantastic she'd been on the pitch. "Just wait till I see her again," he thought. "Then I'll have my revenge!" Already he was wondering just how good a player she was when it came to the great game of chess!

For Kate, Saturday afternoon had followed Saturday morning in much the same way as summer followed spring. She had finished at the florists at noon, come home, prepared lunch, and after seeing the house was in order, she and the children had stood on the doorstep, smiling and waving goodbye as Alan, behind the wheel of the family saloon, had sped around the corner out of sight. Saturday, to Alan, meant football; to Kate, a trip into town.

They arrived by train at 2:25 precisely. Children, well presented, neatly in tow, Kate swiftly made her way from the platform to the exit determined to remain unruffled by the crowds. As usual they stopped for refreshments at "The Linton Tree", a small but tasteful cafe favoured by those who preffered their tea in delicate china cups, served to them at the table by dignified waitresses in traditional attire.

At 3:15, suitably refreshed, Kate and her children headed for St Cuthbert's Centre and the department stores. Grocery shopping came first. Kate winced as she noticed many of the cheap and cheerful supermarkets with their garish primary exteriors, their windows covered in posters offering a range of cut price deals. Quality was what she was after. Good, wholesome fare, bought from an establishment where the decor was easy on the eye and which prided itself on customer care and relations. The same when it came to clothes shopping.

Happy with her purchases, by four thirty Kate sensed the children were becoming bored.

"Mummy, do you think we could have an ice cream?"
"No darling, it'll spoil your tea."
"Mummy, can we go to the cinema? There's a Rugrats movie on. All my friends have been to see it."
"Rug - what? No, I don't think that's really appropriate, darling. Anyway your father will be expecting us back."
"But Mummy! It's such a lovely day. Can't we even go to the park? Just for a while. Please?"
"Hush now, we'll see."

Kate sighed. As experienced a mother as she was, she had temporarily forgotten a basic golden rule. In the vocabulary of five year olds, "we'll see" invariably translated as "yes"!

Alan was to meet Maz at seven. When she'd asked where, he had deliberately chosen a place in town. With Saturday being Kate's shopping day, once she was home, she would generally stay there, glad of the peace and quiet. Alan often went out on his own. Kate wasn't one to worry. As he straightened his tie in the mirror, he wondered whether it would be best, on this occasion, to leave his mobile at home.

At four o' clock the girl from the chambers was stirring. Indeed, she had been restless all afternoon. The boy had gone out to some important football match and she had been left as usual. She knew she shouldn't have ventured into the maze. Without permission, it wasn't done. But if she was quiet and well-behaved who was likely to stop her? She could surely walk around a little without people minding! There were even places she knew of through which it was possible to see some of the outside world.

At first she hadn't realised she had wandered as far as she had. She only knew that the maze today looked different. More open, less forbidding. Her view of outside was clear in parts and for a long time she stood transfixed. She watched ordinary people doing ordinary things, laughing and joking, buying burgers from a stall. She saw men walking dogs, women carrying bags of groceries, girls and boys on bicycles playing loudly in the street. In a way she felt unnerved, but also she was curious - and the more she watched, the more curious she became. She ventured further into the maze. In the distance she saw a park. The children here were so free and at ease, running across the grass, leaping into the waiting arms of their parents. Up they would climb onto a framework of wood suspended between the trees, down they would jump or slide or swing. As the children played, adults sat on benches or on blankets on the grass eating ice cream, drinking lemonade. An older girl and boy were kissing in a way which showed they were deeply in love. Further away a father held his baby in his arms, proudly calling out to its mother to "come take a photo of this!" How happy everyone seemed.

The little girl stood back, wishing she could join them. She wanted to buy an ice cream; run and jump and play - and it made her sad to think she could not. Still, time was getting on. She had to get back.

Happy to have the place to himself, the boy continued to zoom around the room. He was in a mischevious mood so when he discovered the door unlocked, he gave a shriek of delight. With no one around he could play at aeroplanes to his heart's content, swooping high, dipping low, up and down the passageways, round and round in circles.

"Hi there!"

All of a sudden his make-believe plane ground to a halt. Taken by surprise at the girl's appearance, he now felt nervous and shy - a little embarrassed to say the least. She looked different from how he remembered. Gone was the blue and white football strip she'd been wearing earlier, in it's place a more girly ensemble of lilac and pink.

"Wanna play?" Her bright blue eyes twinkled with more than a hint of devilry.
"Maybe, I'm not sure." The boy edged away, drawing closer to his confines.
"It's alright. No one will see."
"Like I said, I'm not sure."
"You were playing aeroplanes."
"No I wasn't."
"Yes you were. It's alright. I won't tell. I play games like that sometimes. It's more fun with two though."
"I don't know," the boy considered. "I've never done that before."
"Not done much, have you?" Was she laughing at him, he wondered?
"I like a game of chess."
"Hmm... Not really my thing. Tell you what," she grinned. "I'll give it a go. Got to race me first though!"
Laughing loudly, the girl took off into the maze with the same fleetness of foot she'd displayed on the pitch several hours earlier. Tempted to run, the boy followed suit, but being nowhere near as fast, he soon found himself lagging behind, out of breath.
"Catch me if you can!" the girl called out, teasing from a distance. But it was no use. He simply couldn't keep up. Worse still, he was starting to fear he was lost. What if he'd gone so far into the maze that he wouldn't be able find his way back?

Just then, he felt a none too gentle hand upon his shoulder. Face to face with his captor's wrath, he trembled inside. Would sedation be necessary? Apparantly not. On this occasion, being locked in the chambers would be punishment enough for the boy.

Kate was annoyed at herself for returning home so late. The children had enjoyed themselves at the park, but the impromptu outing soon became one she regretted when she realised it meant her having to wait in the station until well after seven before another train came along. By then the children were tired, the youngest almost asleep in her arms. It was bad enough having to carry shopping around for this length of time, without a drowsy infant adding to her burden! She sometimes wondered how other mothers coped. Many she encountered seemed to survive on a pittance. She saw them every day passing her shop, hoisting toddlers on their shoulders, pushing babies in their prams. Bag upon bag of groceries would hang from the handles as they struggled round town. Sometimes they'd come in, asking how much it would cost for a simple bouquet - and she'd know by their reaction just how little money they had to spare. But not once did she hear them complain, say things should be any different, or there had to be more to life than just this. It was what they knew, what they expected. In a way, she should think herself lucky. She was, after all, fairly privileged compared to them. And yet...

"Mummy, when's the train coming? I want to go home."
"Soon darling."
"Mummy, can you read me a story at bedtime?"
"Maybe tomorrow. It is rather late."
"Mummy, isn't that Daddy over there with that strange lady?"

Just as the train pulled onto the platform, Kate froze. Was it Alan? There were too many people coming out of the carriages to tell. Perhaps the girl had merely imagined she'd seen her father. Perhaps it was someone who looked like him. In any case, there had to be a simple explaination. Right now, it was time to go home.

The last thing Kate had expected was to arrive at an empty house to find her husband's car in the driveway, his mobile phone left lying on the bed.

Up until the time he'd been forced to deal with his unruly charge, Alan had enjoyed his evening with Maz. He'd felt a little guilty, perhaps. It wasn't like him to go off meeting other women behind his wife's back. He'd always been a hundred percent faithful in the past. But since when did joining someone for a drink constitute infidelity? He simply needed a break and Maz seemed like fun, the sort of person with whom he could relax and unwind. Kate was always so uptight these days - even when they were alone. Keeping the house and the children in order was one thing. Being level headed in business, another. But when it came to being a wife - bedroom as opposed to boardroom - it was almost as if she'd forgotten how. Somewhere along the line, the warm, responsive side of Kate he had known and loved had slowly given way to a more distant, dispassionate figure; a statue of ice, greatly admired, but undeniably cold. He might not have been the most romantic of men. Sentimental gestures and barings of the soul had never been his style. But surely Kate knew that he loved her, so why had she changed? It was nice to be in the company of a woman like Maz who was open and friendly and making no secret of the fact that she found him attractive.

"Want to come back to my place, Al?" she had asked. "No strings attatched." And for a moment, he had been tempted. But what was the point? Maz's offer of one night of passion, as hard as it was to resist, stopped there. He would probably never see her again. If ever he chose to be unfaithful to Kate, it would have to be with someone he loved, who loved him back. It would have to mean the end of his marriage. Maz was too free a spirit to ever be trapped in this way. What he wanted wasn't a fling, nor even a full blown affair. It was someone to share his thoughts, his dreams, his life. And he had that already. It had simply been misplaced.

The children were asleep when Alan got in. He tip-toed into their rooms, smiling down his son and daughters in turn. Where he would be without them, he wondered..? Where he would be without Kate? He suddenly missed her so much.

"Kate?"
"Yes, Alan?"
"Can we talk?"

Kate looked up from the magazine she had been reading, determined not to cry. She knew her husband wasn't happy. He hadn't been for a long time - and she only had herself to blame. If only she'd paid him more attention, reached out for him more as, in her heart, she had wanted to do. Then, it wouldn't have come to this. She knew what he was going to say - that he had found someone else and was leaving...

"Kate, I've been thinking. We never seem to get out much anymore. How's about next week we get a babysitter and have a weekend away. Forget about work and everything else for a while, get to know eachother again? It's time we had some fun, don't you think?"

Through the tears, Kate smiled her reply and as the couple embraced, they knew that tonight there would be no locked doors. Not even within the maze inside themselves.

"Wanna play?" asked the boy.
"Sure do," the girl replied.

carrieann24c

Again, ones not suitable are:

Carrieann's 'Mid-Life Crisis' and 'Secret Chambers', (of which she already knows as i've been chatting to her), and Spidey's 'Moderate to Go'.

Both Spidey and Carrie have two pieces already submitted so no problem. As for the rest, that are all included.

Jen

Meant to say that the rest are fine and are in.

That's great, no problems, Jen. I am gardening and checking the next windmill out for stability.

All the best jen,

Cheers H.