flickr photo credits: (1) keepps (2) bionicteaching (3) bionicteaching (4) bionicteaching (5) Intrepidteacher
Five Card Story: Time slips
a Five Card Flickr story by evelyn davis created Jun 14 2015, 10:07:51 am. Create a new one!
about this story
He looked up. The curtains were pulled back but there was no sign of life. Maybe they had left for work already. How was he going to get back in and become the picture on the wall again ( the idea came, I am going with it!). It had been fun to climb out of the frame and an exciting challenge to get out of the house without any one noticing the strange little boy with blonde curls and blue velveteen knicker bockers slipping out the door. ( suddenly remembers temperaments). It had been an extraordinary day. London had changed so much in the 200 years since he had been a little boy having his portrait done. There were vehicles on wheels that zoomed past so fast it was terrifying, there were other cars with screaming flashing lights tearing down the streets with reckless disregard for other cars or people, and he had gone down a quiet alley way and stumbled on two men having a fight, and shouting and punching each other. ( time to change temperament!!) and a new picture.. let’s see what I get!
Tom, for that was indeed his name. had hidden under a tree behind some rubbish bins and was doing some hard breathing when he realised that a jaunty young man with a briefcase casually in one hand was walking past him. The man was holding a green ice cream and had not noticed Tom. Impetuously Tom called out,crying ‘Help me, Help me!’. The young man stopped...
( hazards of starting forward in time and hten having to backtrack... I am less free.. I have to return to that window... hmm)
What;s the matter? Asked the man.
“I’m lost’, repied Tom. He wasn’t lost but he WAS scared of this noisy speedy raucous industrial world.
‘Where do you live?”
“ 254, Grand Boulevard’ said Tom, relieved that he had known that from watching the children opening birthday envelopes and leaving the discarded envelopes on the table just below his portrait picture.
(New picture – back to 5card flickr to choose the next one, - choice between army truck or pastoral peace... I deliberately choose the harder one)
I can take you there. Come on, and climb into my army jeep”. He seemed friendly ( bad role modelling here! Should have stuck with country idylls...) maybe I can go there anyway.
The jeep was loud and Tom clung to his seat belt in panic but he wanted to go home. The man drove a long way, further than tom had walked and he was worried. ( deeper and deeper water... aaargh... close your eyes, Evelyn, apply the four A’s and ...
“Actually I’m lost’ said the man,” I thought I knew how to get there. But we are near Kew Gardens.. do you want to go to the park and have an icecream while I look for a map?”
Tom had been there when he was little and he said yes. It was beautiful at the gardens, there were flowers everywhere,...........tall spires of majestic purple delphiniums, pompoms of yellow chrysanthemums, dizzying expanses of pansies and violets. Tom and the man found some swings and Tom was in heaven swinging in the gentle summer breeze, listening to the blackbirds singing and the watching rabbits under distant trees hopping and lolloping through the long grass.He licked his ice cream... it was delicious, and creamy and sweet. The scent of the flowers drifted on the air and he suddenly felt..... ( long passage there for melancholics and phlegmatics... bit of description and a bit of food)
..curious about where a little brick path led to. He got off his swing, leaving the man to study his map, and wandered down the path.... it was a strange path and it led him to a clearing in the trees.. a small sunny grove with a fountain and a few cafe tables with colourful parasols providing a little shade. A man was there with his easel and his paints and his palette and he was painting the picture he saw before him.... a pond with lily pads and a little bridge and softly undulating water.. Tom was entranced by the artist’s focus and Tom seated himself on the bridge and gazed at the artist’s face. He looked familiar and he looked friendly. He suddenly realised that this was the same man who had painted his portrait two hundred years ago. And he could feel the artist’s eyes sizing up the folds of his jacket and his pantaloons, cocking his head as he appraised the exact colour of Tom’s curly locks..
New picture...tension is getting to me... where will it end!!how will it end..
Just then Tom heard the clock chime midday and he saw the sunlight flash on a distant clock tower as the bells chimed twelve times.. As the last notes died away, Tom felt himself slipping away from the garden, and the courtyard, the little wooden bridge and the man in his army jeep and right away from the town where his portrait hung...
... and he was back with his father, sitting for a portrait on a summer’s day, wearing his new smart velveteen knickerbockers. He looked up and saw his father’s kind eyes resting approvingly on him and he let out a deep sigh of contentment to be back with his true family once more.
Not really a child;s story.. but I got somewhere.... except I would have to rewrite the beginning now!! Never mind... enough is enough.....
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flickr photo credits: (1) keepps (2) bionicteaching (3) bionicteaching (4) bionicteaching (5) Intrepidteacher