Grand Staircase of St.Pancras Hotel, London.

I just want to go here and explore, maybe write a little something about this piece of art. Friday. Credit to Lemanshots from WordPress.

I did write a little story about this digital picture of such a fine place. Let me know what you think. My attempts at short fiction 1500 words. Thank you all for your inspiration!

Lemanshots_Stair

Hotel St. Pancras in London 1935

Piano notes could be heard on this late sultry evening in July of 1935 as the elderly couple sat on the burgundy-velvet love seat in the grand lobby of the Pancras Hotel . A gentleman artist was performing for a near non existent crowd. The wedding party of yesterday had partied and left, returning home to the countryside.

Apparently, Gracie and John Smith couldn’t depart as yet. Their grandson, Johnnie, was all that was left now as his sister was betrothed to her American sweetheart, would honeymoon in Paris, then move to the farm in the states. (Johnnie and his sister lost their parents back when he was one from an auto accident). Her groom was a farmer from the middle of America. It would be a long while, if ever, when they’d be reunited. Little Johnnie didn’t know of this, only that he received many hugs yesterday and he swore his sister had tears in her eyes. He decided that’s what happiness and “love” bring, lots of wet faces and sobs.

He, Johnnie, looked around the lonely lobby and wandered from sofa to sofa, scouring the place for some form of life. Brown eyes lofted to the staircase and back at his grandma and grandpa. They sat while minds floated to the music played by the piano man as they remembered one tune after another. The gentleman lobbyist or attendant from the front desk assured them the music would last two more hours maybe more.

“What should I do?” He whispered to himself as he sat dressed in a suit with bow-tie. He looked for other faces, but there were none, et all. He must find his adventure. He quietly walked up to his family. “I have to pee.”

John Smith smiled upon the boy and looked to the hallway behind the front desk. “Right over there, Johnnie. You can go by yourself.”

Johnnie smiled. His adventure would now begin. He looked back and saw his grandparents talking, laughing, and drinking as they nodded to the piano man. Johnnie sped up his movements on the first set of stairs to escape their view. He looked up. And up. He was going to find something. His hand smoothed over the wooden banister and it glided like a sailing ship he’d seen come into port two days ago. Grandma Gracie told him, “I believe it comes from special trees in the woods, very strong ones.” He wondered if he’d ever seen the trees in the woods before, that ended up as a wooden banister.

After this contemplation and feeling like he’d discovered gold while on board a big wooden ship, he then for no apparent reason whatsoever, skipped steps. Johnnie took large lunges stretching his inner groin muscles a bit much. He thought he heard his pants rip apart at the seams. He laughed and kept going up. He skipped a floor. Why not? The notes of tunes, classic in rendition, penetrated the opening but not as loud.

He put his hand over the gold fleur-de-lis patterns on the wall. He knew what they were, grandma told him, but he couldn’t remember what they symbolized. He calculated he’d made it to the 3rd floor. He decided to run the hallway very fast from one end to the other. Halfway down he hit the floor when a door opened and a woman came out, yelling, “I don’t ever want to see you again!”

Johnnie stopped. Startled and a bit scared he resumed the upright position.

She looked at him, sized him a good stare.

She was sad, or was it mad he questioned?

“What are you doing you little scoundrel?”

Johnnies eyebrows rose and then lowered. He replied, “Why nothing. Better yet, what’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing and everything,” she laughed.

“Caren,” she said sweetly.

“Johnnie, at your service madwoman.” He offered his hand and they shook to their new acquaintance.

“Pleased to meet you this fine evening.”

“Likely.”

“Likewise.” She iterated. “I’ve got an hour to let off some steam before I return to slumber for the night. You?”

“Oh, maybe that long, too.”

“There’s two things I’ve wanted to do here with another adventurer and have never been able to do it, least not since I was a kid.”

“Tell me.”

“How old are you?”

“Seven. Does it matter?” He answered cockily.

“Old enough, I suppose. Can you balance?” she asked.

He stepped on one foot, closed his eyes and held his arms out.

“Good. Do you scare easily?”

He squinted, looked at her, then thought of the serene but tedious scene in the lobby. “No way.”

“Ready for some action, then?”

“Yup!”

“Follow me.”

Caren took off for the 4th floor rather quickly. She skipped steps, too. He liked her already.

Once at the top, she whispered in his ear what they were going to do and when finished they must hurriedly, so as not to get caught, exit back up to the 5th and 6th floors. She would show him the special rooms in the towers.

Boy was this his lucky night! Brown eyes followed her every word. She said, “First though the real fun begins.”

He joined her.

“Come quickly!”

She climbed upon the banister made of special trees. He followed. The unlikely pair lay on their abdomens and flew down and around the curves. Smiles widened and light laughs followed down the passage way. Johnnie pretended he was flying, only backwards. She helped him to stay balanced. He got the giggles and couldn’t stop.

One floor, two floor, and third floor complete!

She laughed with him and tried to shush both of them. No one heard them as there was no one present to over hear the light excitement of new pals.

“Remember, the last banister you must ride on your back and bottom, being very careful to not fall off. You can do it. Then run right back up to the fourth floor and I’ll show you the special towers on five and six.”

Little Johnnie was so energized. He knew he couldn’t stop. He realized she waited to the last stairs for the funnest part of all. And a good thing as one would not want to fall four floors down. No way.

Right before he let go he heard the church choir from yesterday in the cathedral where the wedding took place. He was ready to let himself fly. Caren let him go first and he nearly fell off a good many times. The piano man looked up and smiled at them. Little Johnnie fell right at the end when he tried to dismount. He took a tumble and the piano man paused his keys; Gracie and John looked at him when he stopped at mid song.

Quickly, he recovered and banged hard on his ivory music box. He threw his hands in the air, stood, and bowed. Stunned, the couple clapped. He asked them what favorite tune they might like to hear next? All the while he let the adventurers escape to higher heights.

Caren and little Johnnie breathlessly flew back up while leaving giggles in ascension to the fifth floor. At the end of the fourth floor they found the passageway through a special door hidden by library books.

“How do you know this?”

“Johnnie, this is my father’s hotel!”

“Seriously?” He smiled. His adventure was more than he could have dreamed. His sister was gone and now, tonight, he had a new play mate. He’d follow her anywhere.

Inside the tower, he took notice there were not any dragons, prisoners, or ghosts as one might suspect or be told. Just a bird on the ledge perched against the city backdrop when Caren opened the iron laden door. The pair walked out into the night with heavy fog surrounding the balcony and stood together: high up, safe, and exhilarated from earlier spent energy, acting foolish and daring.

“You’re not mad anymore,” he said.

“No, I’m not. You see if ever you become bored or mad, find something daring, fun and exciting to do. Go on a small adventure.”

“I had so much fun. Someday, we’ll do it again, you and me, okay?” he asked.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

He smiled. She didn’t tell him that her father was closing the hotel next week. She not dare ruin the moment as they looked out upon London in the fog above the Pancras hotel and railway.

The End

lemanshots's avatarlemanshots - Fine Pictures and Digital Art

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The Verdant Moon

Thanks for this piece. Descriptive action and beauty.

D. Wallace Peach's avatarMyths of the Mirror

Claude Monet Claude Monet

In my fantasy worlds, the Verdant Moon heralds the high heat of summer. On the sea, winter’s iron clouds have long blown west and the island’s white bluffs are alive with nesting fishers and heckling gulls. The village shores idle, embraced by calmer waters, and small single-masted fishing boats rest on the beach, keels cutting long grooves in the sand.

No one lingers inside their narrow harbor homes when the markets brim with crabs’ legs and smoked redfish, squid with coiling tentacles, and the slimy innards of crusty shells. Summer brings more familiar fare from the dark-loamed farms: honeyed cakes and salty bread, ripe fruits, and bouquets of greens. Few go hungry during the Verdant Moon.

The Verdant Moon shines on the world tomorrow night, July 19th.

Vernal Moon

Excerpt from the Vernal Moon, Eye of Sun
The Dragon Soul Quartet

Treasach made the decision to sail the Seabourne onto…

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NEW pic of Theresa Carle-Sanders and Graham McTavish

Reblogging this fan picture of Graham McTavish from Outlander on Starz. My husband and I are glued to our TV sets every Saturday night. We love the show! I totally didn’t see his demise in the ninety minute finale. Wow. The story sets fire to my thirst for historical fiction and romance with paramount struggles. If you haven’t seen it join in next year.

primrosesandrue16's avatarOutlander Online

NEW pic of Theresa Carle-Sanders and Graham McTavish

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An Unbelievable Moment

 

61boF6dC1pL._SX312_BO1,204,203,200_Conceiving, Creating, Writing and Publishing my novel Into the Vines has been more than an unbelievable moment, rather more like a crazy four years on a fast roller coaster. It was intense to say the least. But I know that roller coasters stop and let the people off, either they go again because the thrill calls them home or they take a rest. Which kind of person or writer are you?

I love the thrill at the amusement park but I like little breaks because I have to build myself back up, but when I’m ready there’s plenty of steam to make for an even more powerful ride.

There’s a step missing from the first paragraph, one in which I have improved but still remain a full fledged unprofessional. Editing. Maybe I’ll get there and maybe I won’t. It has not stopped me though and I won’t let it deter me from writing another story. Why? Because I’ve learned so much and will do it again, faster and better.

I want to thank everyone who Blogs, Tweets, and posts on Facebook, Instagram, Google and Tumblr! I have tried to learn, emulate that material I like or love and generally be a good sport. That’s my nature, naturally. Many bloggers have helped me and probably didn’t even know it. I enjoyed reading their posts and commenting. Y’all are inspiring. Many, many thanks. I hope that I find readers and am able to take forward what I know and share with others.

Wish me luck for a small success, like selling a few copies and writing again. Future plans include possibly making new covers for The Vintage Bleu Trilogy for paperback and kindle, nook, etc. as many will not buy such a large volume at 177K words. Also, I plan on doing Snapchat! Why? Because why not. Take advantage of our technology and use it to suit your needs. Good luck to all of you!

I love blogging and will return in the Fall. Catch me on Instagram this July where I’m playing a game of #bookstagram for the whole month. Bookstagram by @sammyreadsbooks.

Twitter@gardenliliepub  Instagram@Kim_Troike

 

Orlando

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Stars in Heaven

I’m at a loss why this keeps happening. People close to me tell me it’s been happening for thousands of years. That’s not an answer for me. I don’t accept that.

When my thoughts become words that can accurately piece together an organized blog post I will do such a thing. For now I took some pictures on the night of terror and they convey quite simply an inner peace and fortitude that tells me I don’t want another thousand years of killings!

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Built Strong Last Long

Peace to the families and loved ones experiencing this unbearable pain. My hope is we finally do something for you and all the others harmed before our very eyes. My children have grown up with killings since Columbine, it’s their norm like Vietnam was my norm. I think women are missing from the global and US picture.

Photography by Kim Troike

Photography

Photography is huge these days with Snapchat conversations, selfies, and phones capturing every moment of our lives. Face it, for a while, life is moving FAST!

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Then we display our talents on Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram. Of course, I’m on all of those. Why not? It’s fun. But here on WordPress my mind is able to decipher all the jargon and I can use my brain to feel accomplished. I need to figure out how to put my name on the photo. I’ll add that to my to-do list.

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The above photos were taken with my phone out at a restaurant on a date. The pair turned out so lovely I wanted to share them. The second photo is filtered. Which one do you prefer, filtered or unfiltered? Sounds like a cigarette commercial from the seventies. I haven’t figured out how to use my camera as yet but I will very soon. I know that I have that eye, that sensitivity, or quality that finds the picture.

No, I’m not full of myself. It’s just something you know. I wonder if others find this with taking pictures or writing or creativity in general. It is a good feeling and something that we own ourselves. How about you? What do you enjoy making? Maybe this generation which feels and communicates through their phone gets instant gratification through likes, posts, and pictures. It’s here, let’s join in the fun.

Kim

Photography by Kim Troike

Wednesday Funny – Random

Posting these for my Dad! Ha ha.

Don Massenzio's avatarAuthor Don Massenzio

grim reaperLittle Johnny’s father was a pastor in a small church.

One day, his father told Little Johnny that a very important bishop was coming and that he would be staying with them. Little Johnny became very excited and asked his father if he would get to meet him. His father thought about this and decided that he would let Little Johnny bring the bishop tea in the morning and wake him up. Little Johnny agreed to do this and was very excited.

His father gave him instructions: first, knock on the door of the bishops room and then say to him “It’s the boy, my Lord, it’s time to get up.”

Little Johnny was very excited and rehearsed his lines repeating them over and over. Finally the day came and Little Johnny had learned all his lines. He went to the door and knocked. He was so excited and nervous…

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