tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5959261.post5260749079942370834..comments2023-11-03T07:57:36.350+00:00Comments on Sarah's writing journal: Memories - a 50 word storySarah Salwayhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08254413682817411906noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5959261.post-15062680775171633492009-05-11T17:09:00.000+01:002009-05-11T17:09:00.000+01:00Ooo Jo, that's not going to end well! Lovely.Ooo Jo, that's not going to end well! Lovely.Sarah Salwayhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08254413682817411906noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5959261.post-1033191528526696072009-05-08T13:53:00.000+01:002009-05-08T13:53:00.000+01:00Business had been slow for months. Times were toug...Business had been slow for months. Times were tough, people held on to everything. And these medical advances didn’t help either. If he didn’t do something quick, he’d never hear the end of it. ‘Been in the family for years’, she said. He had to give it one last shot.Jo Ripponnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5959261.post-65550242962929051632009-05-07T16:27:00.000+01:002009-05-07T16:27:00.000+01:00I always remember a writing exercise which involve...I always remember a writing exercise which involved 'laughing at a funeral'. Your responses, D and Kathryn, remind me how many mixed emotions that raised in the writing.<br />And thanks for the comment about the look. Susannah did it for me, I'm very chuffed!Sarah Salwayhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08254413682817411906noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5959261.post-77864694050880911412009-05-06T22:19:00.000+01:002009-05-06T22:19:00.000+01:00He was such a funny man. He wasn't always. Quite...He was such a funny man. He wasn't always. Quite miserable at first. But the money made up for it. She thought he was trying to make her happy. The quips tumbled from his lips like bubbles from a champagne fountain. She died laughing. He went back to being serious.Kathrynhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03100413586341334127noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5959261.post-43935989084530726312009-05-06T22:14:00.000+01:002009-05-06T22:14:00.000+01:00Love the new look, Sarah!Love the new look, Sarah!Kathrynhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03100413586341334127noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5959261.post-25254446173286122832009-05-06T20:13:00.000+01:002009-05-06T20:13:00.000+01:00The officiating minister wore baggy trousers. Shoe...The officiating minister wore baggy trousers. Shoes impossibly large. A painted smile, a red nose and orange hair that was not his own. In the lapel of his jacket a flower, squirting water. He cried through the ‘in memoriam’, but he was laughing too. I couldn’t tell which was real.Douglas Brutonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12625886640338360592noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5959261.post-37282005625017380052009-05-06T20:04:00.000+01:002009-05-06T20:04:00.000+01:00No drums slow beating. No clocks stopped, No tears...No drums slow beating. No clocks stopped, No tears or sighs or ‘he’ll be missed’ and ‘he was such a good man’. But let there be flowers. Lots of flowers. Bring them fresh-picked from your gardens. Conrad had hay fever you see, and could not enjoy them when he lived.Douglas Brutonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12625886640338360592noreply@blogger.com