PicFic Tuesday Challenge photo prompt for May 14th

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

For those of you who might have missed it. I posted the prompt early as I thought I wouldn't be around today, but I am.  So there was a little bonus time to write picfic story if you caught the prompt yesterday.  If for some reason you still can't manage to post by the Tuesday deadline, then submit your picfic to Section VII next Tuesday.  Be sure to include your title and the due date for the picfic in your header.  Happy writing!


                                                       

"Mother knows best"

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

A little late for Mother's Day... so belated Happy Mother's Day to all you moms out there in UNCLE land.

                                 


Illya Kuryakin was a well-behaved boy, listening for the most part to his parents when they told him to do something.  There was no asking, only telling as that was what parents did.

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"Mother knows best"

[mlaw]

 A little late for Mother's Day... so belated Happy Mother's Day to all you moms out there in UNCLE land.

                                      


Illya Kuryakin was a well-behaved boy, listening for the most part to his parents when they told him to do something.  There was no asking, only telling as that was what parents did.

Parents told and children were supposed to listen. Only now Pappa was gone as was Illya’s older brother Dimitry; they were off in the forest of Bykivnia to fight with the partisans and gypsy kin against the encroaching Germans. Now there was only Mama and Babushka to tell him what to do.

Each day the explosions seemed to become louder, and closer.  Planes flew overhead heading towards Kyiv, but never seemed to come back.

The noise affected the chickens as they stopped laying eggs. That signalled a catastrophe for the small family as it meant less food for the six of them now that winter was looming over them. Mama and Babushka were already eating less, giving more food to the children instead.

One day, Illya decided not to listen. He was bored, as can happen to most young children.  At seven years of age he was suddenly the man of the house and expected to do much.

Though he was a serious boy, he was still just a child and needed to have fun now and then.

It was his job to clean out the chicken coop, and search for eggs if there were any, but today he just didn’t feel like doing it. Instead Illya wandered off, heading towards a nearby pond out back behind the dacha. It wasn’t big, and he thought he’d play around on the ice.

Illya stepped onto it, testing it’s strength and not hearing any crackling under his small feet. He smiled and charged with exuberance, sliding onto the ice out into the middle of the pond.  His heart leapt with joy at the freedom he felt doing that, when suddenly there was a sharp ‘crack’ and the ice gave way beneath him.

The boy plunged into the cold water, and he flailed about with his arms trying to grab onto the edge of the ice.  He was freezing and he swallowed water, sputtering and gasping for air as his strength ebbed.

Illya felt it as he began to sink into darkness, a hand grabbing the back of his jacket and pulling him upwards with a mighty effort.

Arms wrapped around him as he heaved for breath.

“What were you thinking you little idiot?” Dimitry Kuryakin hissed.

“Dima?” Illya coughed, “You are home.”

“Lucky for you little brother, I was just crossing the field when I saw you on the ice, and watched as you disappeared.”

The two embraced as only brothers could, and Dimitry wrapped his heavy coat around Illya and carried him to the back of the dacha.”

“Dima please do not tell Mama? She will be very cross with me, I was supposed to be cleaning out the chicken coop.”

“Ah, dereliction of duty Comrade Kuryakin,” Dima imitated their father’s voice.

“Is Papa home too?” Illya asked excitedly.

“Nyet, just me. I was bringing some supplies for you all before the heavy snows set in.  Papa will be here in another day as we have to prepare the dacha. Now let us get you inside before you turn into an icicle.”

“I will be dead as Mama will kill me for disobeying her.”

Dimitry winked at his little blond brother. “Just keep quiet and leave it to me.” He opened the back door of the red dacha, calling to his mother.

Tanya Kuryakina’s heart leapt with joy to see her eldest son, but her eyes went immediately to Illya.

“Oh my God, what has happened. Illya why are you all wet?” Come get those wet clothes off before you catch your death.”

Steam was rising from the clothes as Tanya peeled them off her little boy, grabbing a woolen blanket and wrapping it around him, rubbing the coarse cloth against his skin to warm him.

“I am sorry Mama, I got wet when I...”

“He knocked over a bucket of water onto himself. I surprised him at the chicken coop Mama,” Dimitry lied.

Tanya brushed her long blond hair from her eyes, looking from one son to another. “Hmmm, that was a very,very large bucket of water, enh?” She smiled suspiciously.

Illya nodded, not wanting his brother to get into trouble for lying on his behalf. He had started to tell the truth, but then Dimitry interrupted and now how could he let his brother lose face, being caught in a lie if he in fact told the truth to their mother.

“Illya go to your room and get some dry clothes on you, now," she clapped her hands. "Supper is almost ready.”

She took Dimitry’s coat and hung it up on a clothesline to dry near the stove, along with her younger son’s clothing.

It was a happy reunion at the table between Marina Kuryakina and her eldest grandson along with his little sister Katiya, and the twins Sasha and Misha.

Tanya smiled, passing a bowl of potato varenyky, Ukrainian style pirogí to her family, though she was saddened that Nicholaí was't there. The dumplings smelled delicious as they were mixed with mushrooms she had gathered and dried during the summer months. There was a hearty bowl of cabbage borscht for each of them, with the last of the sour cream being used. Though Sash and Misha had the dumplings on their own as Tanya fed them some of her borscht. It would have been too messy and a waste of precious food if she's allowed them to feed that to themselves,

The family’s milk cow had been slaughtered weeks ago, and the meat salted and dried to preserve it. Some was shared with the less fortunate neighbors, as the Kuryakin family was well known for their kindness and generosity, going far back to the years of Marina’s husband, the late Count.

No one went hungry when Count Alexander Sergeivich Kuryakin table was set, and he took care of many. Those days were long gone, and though generous, the Kuryakins were now cautious with their food.

There would be no more dairy products to be had. Their cow was the last one in the area, but when there was no more grain and straw to feed her, she had to be sacrificed.

“So,”Tanya began to speak very casually, “I have been meaning to warn you Illya to stay away from the pond out back, the ice is very dangerous and should you fall in, there would be no one to rescue you as your cries for help would be too far away from the house to be heards. So promise Mama, you will be a good boy and stay away from it? She spooned an extra helping of sour cream onto his plate.

Illya locked eyes with his brother; both of them suspecting their mother knew they’d lied to her.

“Da ya obeshchayu , mama_I promise Mama.”

“Menya takzhe mama_ me as well, Mama,” Dimitry added sheepishly.

Without another word, she added more sour cream to his plate as well, aware that both her sons saw the knowing look in their her eyes.

Illya realized his mother did always know what was best for him...

"YA lyublyu tebya mama."

"I love you too Illyusha," she ran her fingers through his soft blond hair that was so like hers.

Picfic Tuesday: A Solo Family History Lesson

[alynwa.livejournal.com]

( The Story... )

The Photograph - Song Story 5/12

[glenmered]

Song prompt is The Girl I Knew Somewhere by The Monkees
The first part of the story is one written a while back, titled "I Want You, Babe!".  I always wanted to do a follow up to it, and this Song Story Challenge sparked something that fit.
~~~~~:
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Paul Lynde and Robert Vaughn in the "Glass Bottom Boat"

[alynwa.livejournal.com]

Picfic 26th March - What's in a name?

[reapermum.livejournal.com]

Sorry folks, I'm not a writer and this has been nowhere near a beta, or any other Greek letter. But the name came to me and I wanted to do something with it. Oh, and I don't know how to add the pic into the fic either.

Please don't hit me, cringe, cringe.

( What's in a name? )