God plays the Tom-toms
Weekly Writing Prompt No. 80
Hello everyone and welcome to this week’s writing prompt.
For anyone new to The Writing Shed, this is currently the core of my activity here on Substack.
I may have mentioned a couple of weeks ago that I am returning to full-time education in October (yes, I know, at my advanced age!) I’ve spent the last week mulling over how to fit a full study and research schedule into a life already packed with the everyday. Therefore, this month will be the last in which I publish a weekly writing prompt. From October I plan to craft them monthly and you may also be grateful to receive fewer missives in your inbox too.
Have fun and enjoy your week’s reading and writing.
My mother was the centre of my universe.
As a child, I would sit on the back porch in a thunderstorm watching the rain pelting down, hitting the hardened ground with a whip and a crack before scattering into a thousand tiny droplets. Lightening crackled across a darkened sky, thunder rolling round the landscape, booming off hillsides and valleys.
‘That’s just God playing the tom-toms’ she would reassure me.
And then, in the aftermath came the rainbow; brilliant in its colours and a stark contrast to the black and grey surrounding it.
‘That’s God kissing the ground son’ she would explain.
And I believed her then, as I believe her now.
The Prompt
The weather, particularly in the UK, provides us with exceptional opportunities to play with words and atmosphere. Today, pick a weather forecast and describe the impact from a child’s perspective.
If you feel like sharing your thoughts please leave a comment as I’m always curious to read what everyone creates.
If you’re a writer who wants to manifest your writing hopes and dreams from the practical and pragmatic to the esoteric and spiritual, or who would like to clear any subconscious self-sabotage you may be experiencing, why not work with me? To find out more head over to my website by clicking the button below.
With love, light, and laughter
Linda
x
(Image by David Mark from Pixabay)
When I was young I had a bedroom clock with a very loud tick. It was not an alarm clock, but one that hung on the wall and looked like an owl, with eyes that moved in time with the pendulum. One night when there was really bad thunder and lightning storm. My brother found me cowering under the covers. I remember he hugged me tight and said. Do you remember the story of Peter Pan. Listen to the clock. Tick Tock Tick Tock. That is the sound of the crocodile going after Captain Hook. The flash and bangs are him firing his cannons to chase it away. Come and have a look, we may see the crocodile. He led me to the window. I remember watching the storm, hoping to see the crocodile.
Of course we didn't but I always watched the storms in future in case.
Thanks for weather prose prompt Linda
Here's mine
'Most children I knew and I was a kid too
felt scared if the rumbles in the dark skies happened around bed time.
They thought an ogre was coming , looking around startled , awaiting the next thud above.
Stopped them in their tracks, calling for security from a grown up . Startled like a little rabbit in a headlight, each time the sporadic light beam sparked the sky.
But for me it was pure joy and relaxation.
Lying in bed in the quiet was what always kept me awake. Every night frightened by the sound of silence. I tossed and turned, stuck the duvet in my ear to block the sound of nothing, incase nothing was un planned creaks of the floor, a slow turn of a metal door handle. Imagination was my worst enemy.
The rumble, crashes, counting for the flashes, was utter bliss. No more sound of nothing. Distracted by the excitement of a rock band in the sky.. I always drifted to dreams before the last chord played
( Sarah Mills 2024 )