Tuesday Tales - PHONE ~ ~ #Tuesdaybookblog #Books

 

Welcome to Tuesday ... Welcome to Tuesday Tales ...

Time for a new story. This one has no title, yet, and has been on the back burner for a few years now. I think I posted one or two excerpts, but I felt lost in the story at some stage, so hopefully with prompts and some feedback I might finish it.

Today's prompt is: PHONE

Enjoy - and feel free to leave a comment. And don't forget to click the link below to go back to the main Tuesday Tale site for more stories by very talented authors.

Anyway, now I’m in this massive aeroplane en route to Germany. In all fairness, flying isn’t all what it’s cracked up to be. We’re not even half way and my bum’s sore, my head aches, and I’m bored out of my brains. Even the latest blockbuster on the small screen in front of me can’t hold my attention, and I’ve seen most of the TV series that often I can talk along with them. Even the excitement of sitting right next to the window feels silly now. As far as the eye can see are only sky or clouds. Initially breathtaking, now more on the boring and I don’t really wanna know what’s beneath me side of thoughts.

“Excuse me,” I say quietly to the nice looking lady next to me. “I’m sorry, but–”

I make a motion saying I need to get something from the overhead locker and she kindly moves her legs. Unbelievable, that there are people out there liking this experience. I’ve had enough already!

Anyway, I move awkwardly around the lady, who desperately tries to keep that smile on her face as I step on her feet at least twice, but in the end, I do get what I was looking for in my bag “up above”.  My phone .... And Grandma’s diary. Time for a bit more snooping.

The nice flight attendant gets me something to drink and a snack as I try to get the hang of reading the old German again. As I grab the water, I glance past the lady next to me and see the guy across the aisle staring towards me. Instinctively, I look around, but no, he’s really looking at me. A smile tugs at my lips when I see him smiling at me.

“Where are you heading?” he asks as the flight attendant moves on.

I lean forward and the nice lady next to me leans back. Her smile saying everything. Everything as in, Yeah, he’s cute!

“I’m heading to Frankfurt,” I reply.

“So am I,” he says, his smile turning into a grin.

And then we get interrupted by a long line of people coming past. I patiently wait, as one person after the other moves past, my head bobbing from side to side desperate not to lose eye contact. But it’s near impossible. Itching to talk more to the guy, I keep glancing over again and again, but then I try to settle my nerves by focusing back on the book.

I had no idea “human traffic” can be so intense on a flight.

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Tuesday Tales - Picture Prompt ~ ~ #Tuesdaybookblog #Books

 

Welcome to Tuesday ... Welcome to Tuesday Tales ...

Time for a new story. This one has no title, yet, and has been on the back burner for a few years now. I think I posted one or two excerpts, but I felt lost in the story at some stage, so hopefully with prompts and some feedback I might finish it.

Today's prompt is a picutre

Enjoy - and feel free to leave a comment. And don't forget to click the link below to go back to the main Tuesday Tale site for more stories by very talented authors.

So, Mum died a few weeks back and now I’m stuck on this massive airplane with Grandma’s diary in my bag. It’s kind of weird snooping in Grandma’s deepest thoughts and feelings, but in a way it’s fascinating going back in history. Hey, but not only going back in history, but also to a different continent. 

Mum was born in Germany, but left in her twenties and came to Australia. Quite a journey those days, and she’d told me a lot about it. Kind of scary actually to just leave everything behind. I mean, after all there was no internet or the chance to quickly call home to say Hey everyone I’ve arrived and settled in this super tiny town of Beauty Creek. No, those days you had to write the old fashioned letters and wait a couple of months for a reply.  

Yes, Beauty Creek in Tasmania is the place I was born and grew up. The name says it all, beautiful scenery along a small creek. We lived in a small house, but it was all we needed. I still remember the little patio entrance at the front and this massive brown door hidden away in the corner. Such a beautiful place. And Mum always said it very much reminded her of her home in Germany. The forest as well. It was full of deciduous trees with their leaves falling in autumn in herald of the coming winter. I loved walking along the path with her, gazing at the leaves above that had changed their colour from green to a burning red or dying yellow, or down on the ground, crackling under our feet. However, the creepiest part was, when she tried to make the sound of the wind rustling through the trees.

I really miss my mum.

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~~

  

Out now – and free for KU subscribers

Tuesday Tales - SWALLOW ~ Where #Authors #Write to a #Prompt ~ #Tuesdaybookblog #Books

 

Welcome to Tuesday ... Welcome to Tuesday Tales ...

Time for a new story. This one has no title, yet, and has been on the back burner for a few years now. I think I posted one or two excerpts, but I felt lost in the story at some stage, so hopefully with prompts and some feedback I might finish it.

Today's prompt is SWALLOW

Enjoy - and feel free to leave a comment. And don't forget to click the link below to go back to the main Tuesday Tale site for more stories by very talented authors.

Placing the photo back into the diary I over carefully turned the pages. After all, this little book was almost twice as old as me. Then the name “Konrad” jumped out at me. Grandpa! I swallowed hard. It had to be him I thought. I blessed mum’s heart for teaching me the old German alphabet, Fraktur, which made the reading so much easier. I traced each line with my finger and within seconds I was completely engulfed in Grandma’s story.

“I received word from Konrad today. Finally the postman had a letter for me. I was hardly able to open the envelope my hands were shaking so much. It was wonderful to hear from him, but he’s doing it tough. He’s in Greece and it must be a beautiful place. They travelled through the Austrian Alps to get there. The way he described the mountains, the snow-capped peaks reflecting the sun, towering over him, it made him feel humble. The children loved hearing from him and him describing the scenery. They miss him. And so do I.”

Well, at least I think that’s what it says. I’m a bit rusty on the old German. But I’m sure my uncle Georg might be able to help me out. Only one more week until I will start my journey to where it all began.

Anyway, my name is Sadie. Yes, please spare me the old John Farnham tune, I’ve had it most of my life. Oh, don’t get me wrong, nothing bad about John Farnham, after all, he’s “The Voice”, right? But the Sadie comment does get a bit tiring!

So, Mum died a few weeks back and now I’m stuck on this massive airplane with Grandma’s diary in my bag. It’s kind of weird snooping in Grandma’s deepest thoughts and feelings, but in a way it’s fascinating going back in history. Hey, but not only going back in history, but also to a different continent. Mum was born in Germany, but left in her twenties and came to Australia. Quite a journey those days, and she’d told me a lot about it. Kind of scary actually to just leave everything behind. I mean, after all there was no internet or the chance to quickly call home to say Hey everyone I’ve arrived and settled in this super tiny town of Beauty Creek. No those days you had to write the old fashioned letters and wait a couple of months for a reply.

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Click her to read more Tuesday Tales

~~

  

Out now – and free for KU subscribers

Tuesday Tales - MIRROR ~ Where #Authors #Write to a #Prompt ~ #Tuesdaybookblog #Books

 

Welcome to Tuesday ... Welcome to Tuesday Tales ...

Time for a new story. This one has no title, yet, and has been on the back burner for a few years now. I think I posted one or two excerpts, but I felt lost in the story at some stage, so hopefully with prompts and some feedback I might finish it.

Today's prompt is MIRROR

Enjoy - and feel free to leave a comment. And don't forget to click the link below to go back to the main Tuesday Tale site for more stories by very talented authors.

I couldn’t believe it when I found Grandma’s diary in one of Mum’s boxes amongst books, magazines, records, and even a mirror, a few weeks back. It was a bit like a “wow” moment, and I remember staring at it for a while. A while that could’ve been a few seconds, or a few minutes. Who knows? I carefully touched it and gently traced the outside before I opened it. Wondering what I would find, or read, perhaps discover. Then I rolled my eyes, thinking, for God’s sake, it’s just a diary.

But it was Grandma’s diary! I think I was around ten or eleven when grandma died. We flew to Germany for the funeral. It was a big event, and I met a lot of people who introduced themselves as uncles, aunties, cousins, and the likes. I had no idea. Well, I was only little. Or young, even though little as well. So Mum hid this treasure from me all my young life. I’m not ten anymore, as you would’ve guessed. Yes, I have just turned thirty-one. Lost the love of my life, after we had been together for about three and a bit years, but most importantly, I lost my Mum. It took a while longer to accept those news. All of a sudden she was gone. No, it wasn’t cancer. It was her heart. Bang! One day she was happy, complaining I still hadn’t settled down, the next day – gone!

I carefully open up the diary and flick through a first few pages. An old sepia coloured photo falls into my lap. It shows a woman with long hair. I assume it’s blonde, but it’s hard to tell with the lack of colours. The woman is smiling and squinting into the camera. She looks beautiful, even in the old-fashioned daggy clothes. I study the photo and notice she’s very skinny under the clothes. Her hair is tight up in a ponytail which hangs across her shoulder. She’s got beautifully shaped eyes and from the sepia colour I can only assume they’re of a darker colour in real life. Her smile is genuine and I wonder about the reason is behind the smile. I hold the photo a bit closer and notice some freckles on her face. I smile. Just like me. And then I turn the photo over and read in Mum’s handwriting: Hedwig Maria Stein. It’s my grandma! I turn the photo again and have another close look. Mum always said I reminded her of Grandma. Especially my eyes. So I assume Grandma had green eyes like me. I hold my hand over her eyes on the photo and check out Grandma’s mouth. It’d be nice to think I’ve got full lips like her. And I cannot believe what I’m seeing. I squint as I move the photo even closer. Grandma even has the small gap in her front teeth like me. Cool!

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Out now – and free for KU subscribers

Tuesday Tales - Picture Prompt

~~~It's time for Tuesday Tales~~~

We're having a picture prompt this week and whichever way I turned, I wasn't able to fit it into my baseball story, so I give that story a break this week.

The story today is another one close to my heart. I thought I had posted a little teaser before, but I cannot find the link. My apologies!

This is roughly the second paragraph in the story of Sadie who's found her Grandmother's diary shortly after her mother's passing - and so begins her journey, not also back in time, but also to a different continent.

 

Enjoy - and feel free to leave a comment. And don't forget to click the link below to go back to the main Tuesday Tale site for more stories by very talented authors.

Anyway, my name is Sadie. Yes, please spare me the old John Farnham tune, I’ve had it most of my life. Oh, don’t get me wrong, nothing bad about John Farnham, after all, he’s “The Voice”, right? But the Sadie comment does get a bit tiring! Sadly, mum died a few weeks back and now I’m stuck on this massive airplane en route to Frankfurt with Grandma’s diary in my bag. It’s kind of weird snooping in Grandma’s deepest thoughts and feelings, but in a way it’s fascinating going back in history. But not only going back in history, but also to a different continent. See, Mum was born in Germany, but left in her twenties and came to Australia. Quite a journey those days, and she’d told me a lot about it. Kind of scary actually to just leave everything behind. I mean, after all there was no internet or the chance to quickly call home to say Hey everyone I’ve arrived and settled in this super tiny town of Beauty Creek. No, those days you had to write the old fashioned letters and wait a couple of months for a reply.   Yes, Beauty Creek in Tasmania is the place I was born and grew up. The name says it all, beautiful scenery along a small creek. And mum always said it very much reminded her of her home in Germany. The forest there is full of deciduous trees with their leaves falling in autumn in herald of the coming winter. I loved walking along the path through the forest with mum, gazing at the leaves above which had changed their colour from green to a burning red or dying yellow, or down on the ground, crackling under our feet. However, the creepiest part was, when mum tried to make the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. I really miss her.

  Click her to read more Tuesday Tales