Copyright Bjorn Rudberg
Our cottage, nestling in the valley, stood beneath a mushrooming white cloud that was discharging almost continuous bolts of lightning and rolls of thunder.
Yet everywhere else, even our neighbours’ houses, basked in brilliant sunshine beneath clear blue skies.
And that’s how I knew that Reeva was back.
“Will she stay long?” I whispered.
My mother stroked me, reassuringly.
“As long as it takes.”
It took months, and when she left, the clouds rolled back up the mountain, the primroses peeped warily through the undergrowth, and the tinkling of cow-bells resumed.
My resentment smouldered; even as my heart soared.
In my relentless quest to avoid the massacre and mayhem angle, for a little while at least, this week’s offering for Friday Fictioneers can be interpreted literally or figuratively. I can’t promise I can hold out much longer though; the need to “off” someone is almost uncontrollable. And talking of “offing” people, if Rochelle writes another heart-tugger like this week’s… 😦
castelsarrasin 
Dear Sandra,
Some guests are like that…particularly relatives. As a child my mother had friends like Reeva. the clouds always lifted when they left. Love your story as a metaphor and I literally enjoyed it.
As for the heart tugging…;)
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLike
Thanks for commenting Rochelle. We have an old chinese metallic sign on our boat that says “All of our visitors bring happiness. Some by coming, others by leaving.” 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh, I had few guests like Reeva. Well written, Sandra. I can totally relate, especially with that last line.
LikeLike
They’re fun guests aren’t they? Thanks for reading.
LikeLike
Great fun! I think I have a Reeva living with me at times!!
LikeLike
I think I once lived with one. 🙂
LikeLike
I love the image of the primroses. Yes Rochelle got me this morning too!
LikeLike
Thanks for reading! 🙂
LikeLike
Sandra, like Rochelle I enjoyed the levels of reading. I loved the playfulness, especially the alliteration.
LikeLike
Thank you for reading Karen.
LikeLike
Dear Sandra,
You may begin offing people whenever you like,Sandra. I’m not sure you really stopped since a few folks were bound to have been struck by Reeva’s lightning bolts. You do it so well. Bring on the carnage.
Aloha,
Doug
LikeLike
Carnage coming to a website near you… 🙂 Thanks for reading Doug.
LikeLike
A visitor can be the worst thing — especially a relative.. I love how you describe the ordeals as a mushroom cloud. No sadness in my story this week I promise.
LikeLike
Great photo Bjorn. Thanks for reading.
LikeLike
I was in the literal POV until I read the others comments. Well done!
LikeLike
I hope it works either way Lynda. Thanks for reading.
LikeLike
It’s the telemarketers, Sandra, that are you making want to “off” somebody. But, hey, however the muse strikes, I guess. I like it when you get murderous!!
LikeLike
Murder may be back on the agenda next week Barbara; a girl can only hold out so long. 🙂
LikeLike
Nice story, Even if your character seethes in the midst of primrose renewal.
Seething is foreplay to murder.
Patience, though is a discipline as well as a virtue.
And murder is so much better after a short respite.
Good hunting. Use your resentment well.
Randy
LikeLike
Yes, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Thanks for reading Randy.
LikeLike
Dear Sandra,
While I’ve enjoyed the murder-free romps lately, no one can blame you for letting out your aggression on the characters you create for Friday Fictioneers.
As to this week’s story, I enjoyed the pace and the layers of meaning–much like the terraced mountainside in Bjorn’s excellent photo.
All my best,
Marie Gail
LikeLike
Yes it was a lovely photo Marie-Gail. Thanks for dropping by.
LikeLike
Loved this story Sandra, very atmospheric and beautifully written.
LikeLike
Thank you Maree. 🙂
LikeLike
I had to come over and comment. I read this in my email and just loved the flow of this, the story within the story and that last line…Perfection.
LikeLike
Thank you Kir. Seems a long time since I last saw your work. Hope you’re still writing.
LikeLike
I’ve been writing..I have a new blog just for my fiction.
http://www.kirstenapiccini.com
If you ever have time to visit you know I’d love that.
LikeLike
I could feel the rumbling resentment as the clouds rolled in then the primroses! Wonderful contrast.
LikeLike
I love primroses. Such a lovely contrast, the advent of spring against the backdrop of departing winter.
LikeLike
Love it as a metaphor or as a supernatural story… perhaps you can burn Reeva at the stake as a witch?
LikeLike
I’ll get my fix one way or another Helena. Burning seems … a tad hygienic?
LikeLike
Saw Reeva as metaphor for depression….could be wrong 🙂
LikeLike
Depression, disturbance, personality disorder. Whatever floats your boat… 🙂
LikeLike
So you’ve gone from ‘carnage’ to ‘orage’, this week. I can’t help thinking of Reeva as a cat. Maybe even a witch as her ‘animagus’ (à la Harry Potter). She is a stereotype, too. And an archetype. We all have a Reeva in our lives, which as an anagram – avere – means ‘established’. Don’t know if you meant that, but it fits. One’s Reevas certainly ‘establish’ themselves in one’s life, arriving with their hat boxes of black clouds. An alter-ego Mary Poppins. So I’d like to read more of this story.
LikeLike
‘Orage’ is such a lovely word, and so apt. And the image of a hat box of black clouds is terrifice. Thanks for dropping by Ann.
LikeLiked by 1 person
‘Twas a pleasure to drop by. 🙂
LikeLike
Interesting – there were two stories there! I mean I thought you managed to inject so much into the first ‘part,’ that Reeva’s return was already a powerful ending. So that it continued was like a bonus! A very engaging episode, and as a reader you just want the story to go places. So well-penned, as always.
LikeLike
Very perceptive Hamish. I actually set out to write a story about a supernatural being who could conduct storms and as I did so, I realised what a metaphor it was for someone with some kind of personality disorder/depression/disturbance. So it kind of went on from there, from the POV of a younger sister observing the periodic homecoming of an unstable elder sister.
LikeLike
And just to let you know Hamish – I do read your story every week, though I’m blowed if I can see just how to leave a comment… Just about everything else is there though. 🙂
LikeLike
We’ve got Reevas in our family. Damn them.
LikeLike
I think many of us have. I wrote from experience here. 😦
LikeLike
I felt a lot like this when my sister came back from university. 😛
LikeLike
🙂 I can imagine. Thanks for reading.
LikeLike
I love the woven threads, could mean so many things depending on you feel when you read it 🙂
LikeLike
Yes, it’s a changing story, I think. Thanks for reading Helen.
LikeLike
This Reeva sounds like a realk dandy! Sure could feel the ‘storm of her”!
LikeLike
Thanks for dropping by Claudia.
LikeLike
Excellent word choice and the metaphor applied is mind blowing. now that’s a winning one.
LikeLike
Thank you Vidhya. 🙂
LikeLike
I’ve been to your website and read yours, but I wasn’t able to leave a comment – the process seems confusing. Perhaps you could clarify which option simply leaves a comment on your website alone.
LikeLike
Sandra. Well-written story as always. I would guess most of us have a Reeva in our lives. I’m glad the sun came back out when she left. Well done. 🙂 —Susan
LikeLike
Thanks for reading and commenting Susan. 🙂
LikeLike
I think Reeva is mighty lucky that you did not “off” her. I have read your story several times, each reading gave me a different perspective. Your story is ( dare I use the overused? ) awesome!!
LikeLike
You can use that word with pleasure! 🙂 Thank you.
LikeLike
Makes me wonder who this Reeva is but also makes me want to cringe each time her name is mentioned. I have had co-workers like her. Still do, just not as many.
As usual, splendid job, Sandra! It seems I read you just to see how your mind works (or is functioning that week, give or take!). It’s fun.
LikeLike
I’m just glad my mind is functioning each week, though sometimes it’s a bit of a close thing. Thanks for reading Kent. 🙂
LikeLike
Reeva… i hate her already. 🙂 i love the image of rolling clouds and the piece works wonderfully well when interpreted both literally or as a supernatural piece.
LikeLike
Thanks KZ. 🙂
LikeLike
‘The tinkling of cow bells’ is such a joyful ‘sound image’. I can the mood flow in this piece, Sandra…
Ellespeth
LikeLike
Yes, cowbells do have a charm all of their own. Thanks for commenting Ellespeth.
LikeLike
I take this story literally. sometimes, house guests can be overwhelming as they tend to disrupt the normal order of things.
LikeLike
Yes, they can be taxing. 🙂
LikeLike
I’m choosing to interpret it literally, as I like the idea that something supernatural is going on. Nice story!
LikeLike
It would be nice to be able to conjur up your own weather system, wouldn’t it. Thanks for reading.
LikeLike
I too like the supernatural. This could be the beginning of an interesting story.
LikeLike
Thank you for reading and commenting.
LikeLike
A beautiful and skilfully written story – loved the metaphor, it works so well and the imagery is wonderful. Congratulations.
LikeLike
Thank you Diana. 🙂
LikeLike
I enjoyed this in the literal as well as the figurative (which I interpreted first) format, Sandra. Sadly, this is how I’ve felt with my college age kids coming home, the past few summers. Bummer, but I know it will pass the sky will clear. 😉
LikeLike
It always does. 🙂 Thanks for reading Dawn.
LikeLike
“It took months, and when she left, the clouds rolled back up the mountain, the primroses peeped warily through the undergrowth, and the tinkling of cow-bells resumed.”
Lovely imagery and poetic language!
LikeLike
Thank you!
LikeLike
The arrival of Reeva, the mushroom cloud and the appearance of primroses. Ah the imagery…! Wonderful!
LikeLike
Thank you!
LikeLike
You may have avoided bumping anyone off, but I decided that Reeva was already dead, or undead. I don’t have many visitors 😉
LikeLike
🙂 Good to see you back on here Mikaela.
LikeLike
Thanks, Sandra. I need to try to keep it up! 🙂
LikeLike
Poor Reeva … must be terrible to have a cloud always hanging over you. I sure can understand the feeling of relief though when she goes away…
LikeLike
Yes, she does sound a bit wearing. 🙂
LikeLike
Sure does.
LikeLike
Well written story that made me chuckle even though the core of the story is not humour. The first paragraph is excellent at setting up context for the rest of the story.
LikeLike
Thank you!
LikeLike
I read it as Mother-in-law comes to visit story (or other family member). I know people who walk around with a cloud over there head. How miserable that must be.
We’re sitting here on pins and needles waiting for you to “off” someone. I’m sure you have a clever demise up your sleeve for some unlucky character.
LikeLike
I shall be in ‘offing’ mode sooner rather than later. Thanks for reading Russell.
LikeLike
Wonderful Imagery 🙂 Good Wishes.
LikeLike
Thank you, and the same to you.
LikeLike
I’m taking it literally, because that would be freaky weird if the weather was really like that! Envisioning a whole new world. . .
Great story but still looking forward to more offing!
LikeLike
A personal weather system beats the traditional aura any time. 🙂 Thanks for dropping by Riya.
LikeLike
I imagined Reeva as perhaps the mother’s depression, but it still works literally. Either way, nicely written.
Claire
LikeLike
Thank you Claire. Missed you last week.
LikeLike
I’m glad Reeva has disappeared with her tumultuous weather and the plants can bloom again. I’ve had a few guests that fit your description! I’ve been there. You have so many great details, Sandra. Your stories are always a pleasure to read.
LikeLike
Thanks Amy, that’s very kind. 🙂
LikeLike
Dear Sandra, I love the sign you have on your boat! So clever and there’s a lot of truth in this Chinese saying. Over the years, we have had mostly good guests, but every once in a while – there is one that you can’t wait until they leave. Good story! Nan 🙂
LikeLike
Thanks Nan. Have a good weekend.
LikeLike
Oh this is awesome! I want to know more! I particularly love that this can be taken either literally (fantasy story – is she a witch?) or figuratively (Reeva isn’t the happiest person to be around, is she?). Wonderful job!
LikeLike
Thanks for reading, glad you liked it. 🙂
LikeLike
My first mother in law was like Reeve!
LikeLike
And you invested in a second one?….
LikeLike
Lovely to read, Sandra.
I guess we need to be a bit less emotional! Words move us so much…
LikeLike
Thanks for reading Anita.
LikeLike
There are days when I feel like being under that “mushrooming white cloud”. Very well done, this can be read and interpreted at so many different levels.
LikeLike
Thank you, glad you enjoyed it.
LikeLike
Excellent story Sandra.
LikeLike
I get you, Sandra. I’m smouldering here. 🙂
Lily
LikeLike
I’m going to go with Reeva being a cantankerous great aunt who also happens to be a witch. She’s miserable because she can’t undo that miscast weather spell and that cloud follows her everywhere.
Now I’ve got the silliness over, I hope you haven’t got time to pop across the pond and deal with Rochelle after her latest extremely heart-tugging effort.
LikeLike
Nice work again. I’m not sure if I like it better as a figurative story or a literal one. I mean, it would be kind of cool – in a story, not in real life – to have a person who is literally accompanied by an isolated storm system that drives local flora and fauna into hiding… 🙂
LikeLike
I read it as if Reeva was a mystical creature, a witch or a sorceress perhaps. I just can’t decide why she is there.
LikeLike
Wonderful story. I’m not sure if Reeva is real, as in human, or some sort of evil spirit. You could easily expand on this story. There is smouldering–that could lead to offing someone or some thing. Lucy
LikeLike
Great story Sandra,as usual.
Perhaps you can ‘off’ someone/thing this week…
Love the sign on your boat by the way
LikeLike