Every Picture Tells A Story

by Karen J Mossman

 

PlaytheGame

We all lead busy lives and sometimes it’s hard to find the time to do things we enjoy.  So why not allocate yourself an hour or two in the evening, or at the weekend, or even on the journey to work if you are a passenger, and enjoy a good book.

Play the Game is a novella that’s gets you to the very heart of the story.

Each pictures tells its own unique story. My characters are called Kelly and Stella. As I’m a big fan of Chicago Fire, my favourite characters are  Stella Kidd and Kelly Severide. Their romance captured my imagination, so it seemed right to use their names.

The next photo shows a cosy couple enjoying dinner. Kelly and Stella’s first date is in the hotel where they first met. She hasn’t dated for a long time and apart from Kelly being nice, she was tempted by the thought of a hot meal. The trouble is she is also a modern woman, and was prepared to pay half the bill. When she opens the menu, the food is so expensive it’s completely out of her range. Will she own up, or not each much?

The next photograph is of a Call Centre and this is Stella’s day job. She works as part of a team of handling insurance claims, and hates the girls she works with. They gang up on her by making snide remarks and bullying her at every opportunity. So, as a writer, I couldn’t let them get away with it, and Stella will ultimately get her revenge, but no in the way you think.

The next two pictures show what she does during the week. She hands out sandwiches to the homeless. This means she has to walk the streets at night visiting all the places girls usually stay away from. She’s never had any trouble, until one night, a man high on drugs or drink, takes a shine to her. There is no one around to help up and she is terrified as he tries to lead her away.  Help comes from an unlikely source.

Her team members are big fans of their football club. In between calls they switch screens to follow matches and always talling about the best players. Stella says she’s not a fan, and doesn’t know any of the footballers. It only opens her up to more ridicule.

Kelly’s world is very different to her own and his circle of friends bring her anxieties to the fore. He is very patient as he tries to explain that she’s just as good as everyone else, and she shouldn’t be intimidated by them.

Love was something she never expected to find. Kelly is much more than the person she originally mistook for hotel staff. When he finds out what she does, how, despite her circumstances, she still find time to help others, he can only admire her courage. He wants to build up her self esteem, take away her loneliness, and give her back self confidence.

Will Stella listen? Can love be as powerful as that?

One last tragedy comes into her life but this time she is not alone to deal with it.

Read Stella’s inspiring story and how there is something special in all of us. It just takes the right person to show us the way.

Read it here.

Available to read for free in Kindle Unlimited until January 2020

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The Day I Found a Dead Body

by Karen J Mossman

My mother was fearless. She had a strong sense of injustice. If something was wrong, she would put it right, or put people right.

One day I remember her telling how she was walking passed the park when she heard a crowd chanting. She went in to find a lot boys gathered encircling two who were fighting. Immediately, she pushed through them and told them to stop, and go home, all of them, right now. I admired her. They dispersed with a few grumbles. This was back in the seventies, a very different time.

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I was in my late teens when I found the body walking to work. I wasn’t very far from home as I passed by some bushes. At the corner of my eye, I caught sight of rags. When I looked properly, I saw it was the body of a man; dirty and bedraggled with matted hair. In my mind he looked like he had been there a long time. I froze as I stared. I wanted to prod him, just in case, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch him. I ran back home, “Mum, Mum! Mum!”

She walked back with me, my brave mother. I knew she would know what to do, who to call, and I suppose, check he was actually dead, because I didn’t know for certain.

Leaning over the body, she prodded him with her finger, “Are you all right?” To my complete surprise, the man woke up.

“Oh aye,” he said, “I’m fine, just having a kip.” I realised then that he stunk of booze.

I wish I could have been like her, she was always so sure of herself and was good at getting the best out of people. She was a foster parent, and Social Services would ring up and say they had a child who was disruptive and naughty and they couldn’t place them. They would not sleep at night either. Mum would say, pass them over, and with a short space of time that child was going to bed at seven pm every night, and although never perfect, they fitted into the household as any child would.

She always believed that children need a routine, need love, and believe they are important. She always gave them that, as she did us.

She passed away in 2010, her seventy fifth year and up to two weeks before was still fostering.

1977

This was mum in 1977, doing what she loved.