Worn #writephoto

worn-steps

I wrote this in response to Sue Vincent’s write photo prompt. If you would like to join in the fun, please visit her wonderful blog and have a look around: Sue Vincent

Please suspend your disbelief and picture a convoy of leaf cutter ants crawling across the fourth step from the top, on your right. The ants in this story are all female because worker ants tend to be this gender. The males exist to breed only, surprised? Let’s have a peek into the lives of our six-legged cast, shall we?

“Company halt! Major Amelia, do you have any idea where we are? Why are we crawling into a valley? And a better question is, what are those really tall things sticking up from the ground? They almost reach the sky!”

“Well uh, you see Commander Ava, I, um, was not really, well, you can see, the wind keeps blowing the leaf I’m carrying into my eyes. It’s huge, you know, I am very efficient, as some of us are. The most fungus for the leaf, as they say, or something like that. Hey, you know who might know, because she can’t handle the big stuff? Captain Abigail, of course! Oh, and she’s right here! She’ll know the answer.”

“Very well, Major Amelia, and I’d appreciate a proper antennae salute, or I’ll have you busted down to trash duty? You hear me?”

“Ouch! Yes Commander! Loud and clear. Oh, by the way, did you notice that omeone-say lse-eay idn’t-day altute-say?”

“Enough of that and stop pointing your antennae at the Captain. But yes, you owe me a salute, too, Abigail. And by the way, Major, someone in your position ought to have mastered a simple salute without poking herself in the eye. If your daddy hadn’t taken off after mating with the Queen, I’d swear that he bought your rank for you.”

“But Commander Ava, I don’t even know who my daddy is. None of us do. There’s just too many daddies!”

“Silence! Major Amelia, I’m well aware of how it all works. Now, we have a big problem here and of course, the best way to solve it is first to find out who is to blame.

“Those giants of the Sky Colony that walk up and down these mountains in just eight steps, well, I’ve learned their language. I hear them talk, and that’s what they do.

“We all know that might makes right, and since they are mightier, that means they must be rightier. Isn’t that right?

“No, you imbeciles! What are you, a bunch of dung beetles? Everyone stay in formation! I’m not talking about a direction, just about being right about might. Ah, never mind!

“Captain Abigail, as the lowest rank among the three of us, you are automatically guilty. If you wish to save your precious exoskeleton, you can start by explaining how you created this mess.”

“Me? I mean, Commander Ava, I was third in line, following Major Amelia. I’ve walked in lockstep the entire trip.”

“Hope you like the smell of garbage, because you’ll never forage again.”

“I will take it from here, thank you, Major.”

“Oh, sorry, Commander. But can I just say one thing?”

“Sure, but that’s it.”

“Captain Abigail is lazy. She only carries forty-nine times her bodyweight. She spends most of her time gawking around and smelling the pharaoh moans.”

“And you’re so dumb you can’t even pronounce pheromones.”

“Don’t clack your mandibles at me, Captain. I outrank you, remember?”

“Girls! Can we have order here, please! Now Captain, you’re still guilty and will be punished, but when you mentioned that phero-thingy, came up with a brilliant idea, yet again. You see, the Captain has allowed our route to be sabotaged by the drones of the Sky Colony.”

“No disrespect, Commander, but what are you talking about?”

“Oh, sweet Captain, you have much to learn . . . explains your lowly rank, I suppose. I have personally seen one myself. It was days ago, and it flew over me, on its way up these very mountains. It had black and yellow stripes and made a horrendous buzzing sound.”

“Um, Commander—”

“Do not interrupt me, Captain! Now, as I was saying, the beast flew up these mountains towards that big blue, Sky Portal that the Sky Colony comes from.”

“Um, again, no disrespect, but I don’t think that’s the sky. You see, it’s vertical and the actual sky is— ouch!”

“If the Commander says that it’s the sky, that’s what it is. Now stop rubbing your eye and do not speak until you’re told to.”

“Thank you, Major. I’m ordering everyone to do a smell check. That way we can be sure that no enemy is among us. Look for yellow and black stripes, as well as anyone who buzzes like the gossip mill back at the Hill.

“That’s right! Get those antennae working. Major, get away from me! Ouch! You bit me! That’s it, Captain Abigail is now on permanent trash duty!”

“Me? But that was the Major’s fault.”

“You see me not listening? Yes, that’s what it’s like, but no one cares what you have to say. Alright, halt! It is clear that we have no enemies among us. Now we can resume the blame game. Captain, turn in your badge.”

“But we don’t have badges.”

“That’s it! You’re, hey, what just hit me?”

“Commander! It’s starting to rain! We need to seek shelter before we’re washed down these mountains!”

“Don’t tell me when it is raining, Captain. I’ll tell you, that’s how it works!”

“Um right . . . everyone, we need to get out of here! Move, now!”

“They won’t unless I command it. I say it might be rain, but if it is, then it is only a light rain. It will pass and we shall proceed in determining a new punishment for your insubordination.”

“Everyone, this is your captain speaking! Follow the chain of command but start with me. We’ll pretend the upper ranks do not exist. The rain is getting worse and we’ve no time to reach shelter, get to the base of this mountain and use your leaves to shield yourselves! Yes, that’s it, now hold on. Here comes the downpour!”

“Hey, Not-Captain-Abigail! You are way out of line . . . Major, take that leaf off your head and stand beside me at the edge of this cliff.”

“Y-yes Commander.”

“That’s a good girl, now listen to meee….!”

“They’re gone! I’m glad we listened to you, Captain.”

“All in the chain of command, Sergeant. Now hold steady!”

 

Rafik’s Journey in Silent Heroes. The Hindu Kush Mountains, Written by Patricia Furstenberg.

Today I have the privilege of reposting this blog. It was written by Author Patricia Furstenberg, and she gives us some insight into her new novel, ‘Silent Heroes.’ At the bottom of this post, you will find purchase links and more information about Patricia.

Enjoy!

Rafik, the youngest character from Silent Heroes is forced to leave his home village of Nauzad, alone. Somehow during his trip, no spoilers here, he ends up at Camp Bastion, then is forced to wonder through the Afghan desert and he even takes a drive in the US Marine’s Oshkosh vehicle, a short moment of respiro before his life is endangered again.

We are now approaching the emotional ending of Silent Heroes.

‘Conde immediately took in the mountain sight in front of them, the one shooting towards the sky. There was only one thing higher, the cerulean sky above.’

Silent Heroes by Patricia Furstenberg

journey Hindu Kush mountains

The majestic Hindu Kush Mountains

‘If mountains could, Kent asked himself, would they choose to close their slopes and crush the intruders coming in with wicked thoughts?’

Silent Heroes by Patricia Furstenberg

The Hindu Kush mountains, a natural maze of valleys and peaks blocking all satellite signals are the preferred hiding-spot for the Taliban, their secret lair. Very few locals know how to find their way around.

‘Marcos noticed the zig-zagged pattern of her approach as she followed a barely visible path. For the untrained eye, it looked like nothing, a maze of greenery and rocks. But Marcos saw the trail, wider where the shrubs were missing and the rain had softened the soil, narrower in the rocky passes. In places, it looked like a disturbance in the dirt, like a child had sketched a line with a stick. Nevertheless, it leads upwards, towards the Taliban camp.

As if to mock them, a spring ran on their right side, rushing down the slope, singing and jumping from rock to rock. The steeper the slope, the more cheerful the stream whooshed.’

Silent Heroes by Patricia Furstenberg

fortress-mountain

‘A skinny figure detached itself from the tight group approaching the Marines, his eyes dancing on a dirty face, streaked with dust and blood.

‘You came, you came!’ it chanted then hugged each one of them not minding their weapons poking his ribs. ‘I knew you will come,’ the boy said then turned towards the small crowd in an out-pour of words and gestures.

The bouncy body, the cheerful eyes?’

Silent Heroes by Patricia Furstenberg

Rafik

An Afghan boy about Rafik’s age, eight years.

‘From between the trees, a skinny Afghan boy bounced more than ran down the path and he didn’t stop until he reached the girl. He jumped around her, waving his arms up and down, not sparing any cheer. His cheeks were strung with tears, yet his mouth showed all his teeth in a wide grin.’

Silent Heroes by Patricia Furstenberg

Has Rafik found his people’s peace? Is the young boy finally reunited with his small family – whatever was left from it after the Taliban’s attack on their village?

I wished I could hold his hand, my youngest character, but I could not. Life and war threw insurmountable challenges at him. He was asked to perform missions that put him in life-threatening situations. During his journey he was exposed to an IED field, got lost in the desert and ended in the Hindu Kush Mountains.

But this is war. This is life during wartime. And Rafik made it to the last chapter.

secrets-mountains-Taliban

Will his heartwarming nature and willingness to help be something you will take with you when you close the book? I hope so.

silent-heroes-win

I hope that Rafik’s long journey culminating with the Hindu Kush Mountains spiked your interest. You can BUY Silent Heroes from Amazon UKAmazon USAmazon Australia, Amazon Canada, or Amazon Worldwide: link here to your preferred Amazon website.

ABOUT PAT

Patsmall

Patricia Furstenberg writes with passion about history that blends with fiction, about war heroes, human or canine, and she also pens humorous poetry & haiku about nature and dogs. With a medical degree behind her, Patricia is passionate about mind, brain and education and the psychology behind it. She also loves coffee and she loves to travel.

Her latest book, Silent Heroes: When Love and Values Are Worth Fighting for, is a highly emotional read, action-packed, a vivid story of enormous sacrifice and bravery. Silent Heroes is a narrative about the value of life. Whose are the spoils-of-war? A new look at the War in Afghanistan, at the MWD, Military Working Dogs and the brave Marines fighting it, but also at the Afghans caught in it.

One of her first books, Joyful Trouble, was an Amazon Bestseller in Historical Fiction, Africa.
Her book of poems “As Good As Gold” became a #1 New Release the day it was published.

Patricia’s writing is filled with “creativity and vivid imagery” and she knows how to “capture the reader’s imagination.”
Her words penned in her children’s books “truly make the world a happier and more beautiful place!”

Patricia Furstenberg came to writing though reading, her passion for books being something she inherited from her parents. As a winner of the Write Your Own Christie Competition, the Judges “were impressed by her thorough investigation and admired the strength of her narrative; they were impressed by her style”. The judges thought Patricia’s writing style is “well structured, with a great sense of tension and suspense”, “confident and intriguing”. The Judges were Mathew Prichard, David Brawn from Harper Collins UK and Daniel Mallory from Harper Collins US.

An avid reader, Patricia Furstenberg enjoys historical fiction, especially the Late Middle Ages, and war stories that are a blend of facts, folklore, mystery and include a dog or two. She also loves contemporary fiction, especially mystery and crime, classical poetry and haiku. Some of her favorite authors include, without being limited to, Agatha Christie, Kathy Reichs, Elizabeth Kostova, Dan Brown, Ionel Teodoreanu, Camil Petrescu.

‘I love to explore the human imagination. I am a tourist of history, a permanent guest in the labyrinth of books, a student in the world of art.’

Patricia blogs extensively and has articles & interviews published by Huffington Post UK, Biz Community, Books by Women.

Connect with Patricia

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Today is a Good Day!

Today is good, today I got up with the moon still smiling down, as it prepared to hand the sky over to the sun.  The characters were exactly as I’d left them, frozen in place for almost twenty-four hours. The relief on their faces was evident while they stretched muscles and loosened stiff joints. Yes, I allow them to stretch before we resume.

“Much better than yesterday,” Danne Stromgren, the main actor, declares. “You must have knocked out all of that dirt Mister Sandman stuffed between your ears.”

My finger traces an earlobe before I can stop it, checking for sand, just in case. I smile at the star of the show, he’s prone to fits of man-diva.  I can’t blame him on this one, however. This time the griping is justified. Yesterday was a scrambled dog’s breakfast. Here’s a brief replay of what happened.

Time warp to yesterday . . .

Computer on, coffee on the immediate left, within easy grasp, oxygenating greenery to the right, fingers at the ready . . . now type!

abcdebbacon! . . . Hungry! No . . . try again. abc! . . . Hey, is that a cobweb on the corner of the kitchen ceiling?

Sip coffee, ouch! Hot! Sniff oxygenating plant, better! Brain is giving me a dial tone only. Try some research . . . that’s it, type in ‘wild west, turn of the century’ . . . no, stop fingers!

Ooh, soo ugly, yet fascinating! Wingspan of up to six feet? Hmmm . . . take a lot of batter to coat those. Grab some cereal would ya and get back to work! No, Cheerios won’t cut it, left over chicken in fridge. Yum, now I’m good. Whoa! The clock is running down. Kids will be up soon. 

Dannne . . . whoops, Danne said, “You . . .” Aggh!!  “You . . .” YMCA! It’s fun to stay at the YMCA! Just go with it for a moment, that’s right, tap those fingers on the kitchen table you call a writer’s nook. 

“Dad, what’s for breakfast? I’m hungry!”

(sigh) Return oxygenating plant to windowsill . . . drink up cold coffee . . . close down portal to the nineteenth century Klondike . . . no saving required.

“Here you go.”

“Ewww! What’s that?”

“My white flag.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The All-New Rave Reviews Book Club!

 

I’ve been a member of this very supportive club for several years now, and I cannot say enough good things about it!

I’d like to invite you to visit the ALL-NEW RAVE REVIEWS BOOK CLUB at our new location > RaveReviewsBookClub.wordpress.com

-If you are an author looking for amazing support, #RRBC is the place for you!

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A Cinquain about Home

 

Okay, so awhile back I tried my hand at some poetry (see A Fireside Tanka, Aug. 30), and today another attempt is being made. This is just a Cinquain about being content with your home and lifestyle, despite what society says.

goofytruck

On blocks or wheels, sanctuary for me

The world outside but a caustic soup

Campstove, canned ravioli, so content I’ll be

No stairs or room for a group

Mansions won’t move at the turn of a key