Author: Russell Smith

I was born at the American Hospital in Neuilly-sur-Seine, France. I find inspiration in the lives of so many people from Joan of Arc to Oscar Wilde. While my primary avocation is photography, I also enjoy philosophy, theology and most of all, history. My beloved wife, Robin Anne Smith, who passed away in 2013 is an inspiration to me. My beloved partner, Dana is also a great support and inspiration to me. I'd be remiss if I did not mention my cats: Maxwell, Nigel, Pirouette and GarGar.

Ragtag Daily Prompt: Red & Yellow

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Ragtag Daily Prompt

“Why don’t we open the door and see who it is?” Offered Lady Abigail with a shrug of the shoulders.

“Very well,” sighed Queen Pirouette who with a hand flourish indicated to Lady Eleanor to open the carriage door.

All three women started from their seats when they saw the figure below them. It was a man dressed like your average journeyman worker. He wore trousers with alternating muted hues of red and yellow vertical stripes. His shirt, once white, was now yellowed with age, adorned with several patches of varying size, shape and color, along with what appeared to be numerous food stains. On his back he wore a big, black cape with a hood that was pulled way down to his eyebrows. His mouth was likewise covered with a bright red scarf.

The man bowed like a courtier, deeply with one arm akimbo.

Cee’s FOTD Challenge: September 30, 2022

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Today’s letter is Q. Try as I might to find something other than Queen Anne’s Lace, I was unable to locate anything. I hope that my macros will add a little twist to this wonderful challenge. Comments and questions, as always, are welcome!

Flower of the Day

Let’s take it from the top!

Ragtag Daily Prompt: Rejuvenate

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As the knocking on the carriage door grew louder and more insistent, Queen Pirouette put her hands over her ears. “My God!” She exclaimed. “What could possibly be so important that you knock down my door!”

The sudden change in events caused Lady Eleanor to be struck sober. Her giggles were replaced by groans. Lady Abigail reached into the basket on her lap and extracted the bottle of brandy yet again. She carefully poured a small portion into a tiny crystal goblet. The aroma of the thick, heavy liquid filled the compartment and gave the Queen a sense of comfort.

“Here, Your Majesty,” said Lady Abigail. “Rejuvenate yourself.”

Ragtag Daily Prompt: Audience

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As quickly as it came, the storm passed, leaving behind a clear, sunny sky and a refreshing breeze. Before the Queen and her ladies could continue their progress, there was a knock on the carriage door. “Now what!” Exclaimed Lady Eleanor. Playfully, Lady Abigail put a hand over her colleague’s mouth. In response, Lady Eleanor gave Abigail a gentle slap on the wrist. In the blink of an eye, the women’s roughhousing escalated.

“Ouch! That hurts!” Cried Abigail as Eleanor bit into her shoulder. “You don’t have teeth! You have fangs!”

“Stop that,” chided the Queen.

“Your Majesty,” said the man at the door. “A humble subject begs an audience with Your Grace.”

Ragtag Daily Prompt: Swash

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With a wave and a smile, Queen Pirouette’s carriage was off again, down the road toward Castle Rising. After just a few minutes, a clap of thunder shook the vehicle. The sky instantly darkened and then opened up a torrent of rain. To the passengers, it sounded as though they were being pelted with stones, but it was only the water.

The windows of the carriage began to steam, so Abigail drew a handkerchief from her sleeve and began to buff the window nearest to her. “My goodness! Such a storm!” She said.

When Pirouette heard the wheels of the carriage swash in the ruts that passed for a road, she took the handle on her cane and pounded the ceiling. “Stop!” She shouted. “Stop this instant!”

Ludwig’s Monday Window Challenge: September 26, 2022

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Creepiness can persist even in broad daylight, whether filtered through a curtained window, or under the intrusive nursing home light. Who’s baby doll is that? Why is it alone? Where’s its mommy? But look, someone is in the other bed! It’s just a tiny bulge under a crisp linen sheet.

Monday Window