BRILLIANT STORIES
OMR
(One Minute Reads)
By
Pat Ritter
© Copyright Pat Ritter - 2013
Published by Pat Ritter.
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Each week in 2012 I attended the Pomona Writers Group. The facilitator asked us to write a story about a topic he chose. These stories less than 500 words are OMR (One Minute Read). I hope you enjoy reading each one.
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A Dog’s Life
Two small porcelain dogs, sat on top of the mantle piece faced one another with their noses pointed in the air.
‘Do you know the story behind those dogs, grandpa,’ asked the child.
‘I do – would you like to hear their tale?’
‘Yes, please, yes,’ the child said flashed a smile to make his grandfather’s heart swell with pride.
‘I can only tell you what I’ve been told. Grandma’s uncle, great uncle Eddie, told me after your great grandmother’s funeral, the two dogs passed down to your grandma, because she is the eldest in the family.’
‘Why was that?’ The child queried.
‘Great uncle Eddie told me the dogs originally belonged to your great grandmother’s - great grandmother who lived in England in the early 1800’s. How she obtained the two dogs is a mystery.’
‘Go on grandpa, I’m interested.’ The small boy said.
‘From what I can make from great uncle Eddie, these two dogs were packed in a packing case for their voyage from Mother England to Australia. On the way, the ship sank when going through rough weather.’
‘Was great grandma’s – great grandmother on the ship with the dogs?’
‘Yes, she and the other passengers were rescued but the two dogs were lost at sea and went down with the cargo on the ship.’
‘How did they find them?’
‘After a hundred years they were found in the hull of the ship and sent to Australia. Uncle Eddie says they’re cursed. I don’t know. Your grandma had them handed to her after her mother died and now they’re here because we have been given them to take care of.’
‘What do you think will happen with them?’
‘I suppose after I join your grandma, they will be handed down to your mother, and then onto you. I hope you take good care of them because they have been in the family a very long time.’
‘I will grandpa, hope I don’t have to look after them for many years to come. You look after them as long as you can, please.’
‘I will, I promise you.’
Word count: 355
The Gold Coin
In his day he didn’t have gold coins. The only gold he knew was dug from the ground or panned from a river. In his hand he held a two dollar coin and pondered.
His memory returned to his younger days as a boy growing up in the bush. Pounds, shillings and pence were the currency of the day. For a penny he’d buy twenty hard boiled lollies. When eaten, not all at once, had a tendency to break a tooth, these lollies lasted a month?
Work was scarce. When he could find work he was paid ten shillings a week. From ten shillings he gave his mother five shillings for board and lodgings. He kept the remainder. Life was simple – go to work, when he could found it and always paid his mother half of his earnings.
Over time many things changed in his life; he grew into a man and earned five pound a week. He thought by earning this amount per week he was a millionaire. His job hard; tough working repairing railway lines, hot days with cold nights camping under the stars.
One day he met the love of his life and married. Within a couple of years his family grew to five. His wage never rose beyond five pound per week. This amount gave him sufficient to support his wife and family. Instead of giving his wife half of his wage, he gave her the total amount and kept a small sum for his own needs.
On the 14th February 1966 everything changed. Instead of receiving five pounds per week, his wages suddenly increased to ten dollars. He actually thought he was a millionaire because he received twice as much after decimal currency began.
Unfortunately his thoughts of becoming a millionaire soon diminished because with the change in decimal currency, items he purchased doubled instead of staying the same value. A ten shilling note was now a dollar note. He knew the value of ten shillings however with a dollar the value dropped instead of rising.
Over the future years he witnessed changes with the one dollar note and two dollar note becoming gold coins. One dollar coin was larger than the two dollar coin.
His thoughts returned to the present. In his hand he held a gold coin and wondered what would be next.
Word count: 396
The Proposition
Bundy Quicksilver visited his local post office. Lynette, the post mistress said, ‘Bundy, you have a parcel to collect, please sign here.’ She placed a sheet of paper before him and pointed to a spot next to his name. He signed for the parcel, she handed it to him.
‘It’s from the Commissioner of Police.’ He told her, ‘I wonder what it’s about. I haven’t been in the police for over twenty years.’
‘Well, open it and see what’s in it.’ The post mistress said staring at the parcel. It’s unusual to have a parcel from The Commissioner. This would make top gossip in this small town and she was the one to spread it.
Bundy tore the paper wrapped around the parcel to reveal a blue coloured case with the words POLICE SERVICE MEDAL embroidered in gold lettering. He opened the case to see two silver medals.
‘Can I have a look?’ Lynette asked.
‘You can present them to me if you like?’ He asked Lynette and handed her the case.
She took the medals from the case, ‘do I stand to attention and salute or just pin them on your shirt?’ She asked.
‘Pin them on and don’t worry about the salute, but thank you for doing me the honour to present them to me.’ A tear of gratitude welled in Bundy’s eyes. Pride took over and he felt humble and privileged to have been presented with these medals. He’d served twenty years and now received two medals for the service he performed.
When he arrived home he wrote a letter of appreciation to The Commissioner to thank him for his kind gesture. Words were difficult to find – the right words of appreciation. These words spoke from his heart. He’d thought he’d been forgotten.
One morning, a fortnight after sending the letter to The Commissioner, he received a telephone call.
‘Is that you Bundy – it’s The Commissioner of Police.’ The voice echoed
over the telephone.
‘Yes – it’s me, thank you for sending me those medals. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate receiving them.’ Bundy replied.
‘How would you like to visit me sometime, I have a proposition to present to you.’ The Commissioner asked.
‘It’ll be my pleasure. Can I ask what it is?’ Bundy replied.
‘Yes – I want to give you an assignment only you can do. Are you interested?’
‘Yes Sir – to get back on the horse would be a delight.’ Bundy replied.
I’m a Believer
I well remember the band ‘The Monkeys’ recorded the song, ‘I’m a believer’. It was a great song and uplifting.
Actually the song uplifted me to great heights. Anything I did in life, I honestly didn’t have enough self belief to carry out my first desire, until writing came along.
Don’t take me wrong, I did accomplish many things; however I wanted to climb my own personal mountain of achievement. To do this I needed to be a believer in my own ability.
To be a believer, the dream I had, needed to become the major focus to achieve. In the beginning a desire to achieve was uppermost in my mind; however the road to success was long and difficult to travel.
Along this journey I fell and stopped a few times until I made up my mind to tell my inner self – I am a writer. This was one of the toughest journeys I’d ever undertaken. Believing I was a writer.
Who would read my writing soon enveloped the many negatives to stop