Sunday Photo Fiction: The Exception #amwriting #flashfiction #history


Thanks to Alastair Forbes for holding this week’s SPF. 

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Credit: A Mixed Bag

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The White Horse is a popular bar and inn for tourists to stay at while visiting museums and decaying buildings in town. 

Many old ones have been restored in the style of their time period. However, some buildings have rotted away. These past glories are left in ruin because they cannot be torn down as historical sites. 

Although some people wish to restore these ancient buildings, the process of doing this correctly, with trades who are trained in forgotten skills, is frustrating. As well, there are a plethora of permits needed from the city, county, and state, along with, random inspections.

Architects and knowledgable art history professors complain, saying that the quality of work by rare trades is not accurate. Or perhaps, they say the right materials have not been used, despite these materials now being nonexistent. But few so-called experts understand that the price paid for not restoring ancient buildings is having them collapse, having history disappear. 

The White Horse, however, is an exception to such procedures. The popular bar and inn has been passed down from generations of family since the thirteen-hundreds. Over time, the same lineage has updated the bar and inn through each successive family. The building  contains upgrades from the fourteenth century until early 2010. 

For some reason, there isn’t much any government official or anyone else, can say about this. The same family line has lived here for over seven-hundred-years, having always owned the bar and inn. Can the state and historical societies reprimand them now? Not likely. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: You Leave, I’m not.


“The last time, everything fit in three duffles…” well, was never. I mean I have been collecting memorabilia in a trunk since I was a baby.

My apartment has books I am not willing to give up. It is a place to do my makeup and style my hair. It has a mini office, the refinished desk near the front door. The papers I’ve organized to do with taxes and health benefits are all there. The bedroom has our built in closet and dressers filled with my clothes, purses, and shoes. 

 You are aware living in Canada you need clothes for at least three seasons? Winter being the worst because sweaters, winter coats, and boots take up a great deal of space.  And when the weather is warm you need various kinds of shoes dependant on the occasion. 

What about the furniture I made-over with my time and talent? What about the bed I purchased with sheets, pillows, and a duvet and covers? What about the lamps, couches, and curtains? The appliances and electronics?

You want me to go. . . it’s my apartment. I lived here first. You want me to fit everything in those three duffle bags. You’re crazy. You can’t make me leave, that’s your job man whore… (shove). Oh, you fell and hit your head on the stairs. Call your own ambulance.

http://www.publucdomainarchive.com

Thanks to Roger Shipp for hosting this weeks challenge!

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.