Esther Chilton

When I was growing up, I loved Batman and Robin – you know, the ‘proper Batman’ – the series featuring Adam West. I thought it was fantastic and completely believed in him and everything going on around him! Remember the POW! BIFF! BAM! I thought they were genius. My favourite villain in the show was Penguin played by Burgess Meredith. I watched a few episodes recently and it doesn’t stand the test of time, but I still loved it.

So your prompt this week is

HEROES AND VILLAINS

Who is your favourite hero? And is there a particularly evil villain you admire? Or why not creative ones of your own?

I always enjoy seeing what you come up with if the prompt gives you inspiration, but there’s no obligation to share your writing. Here is the work you shared on the last prompt BEACH.

Michnavs:

Boracay

When I was ten years old, my father took us on a trip to the world-famous Boracay beach. It was a mandatory summer vacation getaway. My parents said it was time to experience a change of scenery after months of school, but I resented the idea at first. I didn’t want to leave the comfort of our hometown or the familiar hustle and bustle of city life. Back then, Boracay was still an isolated, unspoiled island, far from the bustling tourist destination it is today. As a ten-year-old, I couldn’t imagine anything worse than the idea of a beach vacation. I wasn’t an island girl. I didn’t know how to swim, and I disliked being out in the sun.

What was supposed to be a few days of getaway turned into weeks, because my family had so much fun, and soon it became our go-to summer destination. Over time, I began to appreciate the beach—the soft, powdery white sand and the crystal-clear waters. But more than that, it became the place where my dreams began to take shape.

One afternoon, as we walked along the shoreline, I turned to my papa and said, “I want to be a writer. A published writer.” He chuckled, saying, “The last time we talked, you wanted to be a lawyer, a movie star, or even a commercial model!” He was right, but in that moment, I knew for sure that writing was my true calling. From then on, every afternoon at the beach, while watching the sunset, my papa would tell me stories about his favorite poets, novelists, and authors, and how they had made their dreams come true. Each story would end with him asking, “How do you think you’ll make your dream come true?”

I’d tell him wild, imaginative plans, full of hope and enthusiasm. He’d laugh at my silliness, then say, “Now, that’s how you start. Be creative.”

Years passed, and Boracay became more famous. Eventually, we had to let go of our small place there, as none of us could maintain it. Unfortunately, papa passed away before I could fully realize my dream of becoming a writer.

Though he’s no longer with me, I carry his wisdom and encouragement in my heart, and I continue to write—just as he always told me to.

Peter Bouchier:

Message in a bottle

Strolling down the beach in the placid dark of night
I heard an ethereal tingling in the silvery tide.
Looking around, I saw nothing – but then I heard a song,
a tender, meandering melody followed me all along.

A softly humming voice made me almost forget
all about the foamy waves that left the beach so wet.
My shoes got soaked, so I took them off and carried them in hand
and made my way back to the dunes to repose in the sand.

I just dozed off into sweet dreams when the voice returned to me,
I couldn’t help but listen, so beautiful sang she.
Her language was a strange one, I could not understand,
she must have come from very far, unknown, exotic land.

Then there appeared a shadow out of the misty dusk,
and I did smell the perfume of sweet seductive musk.
She danced towards me, almost nude, dressed in pearls alone,
and kept on singing all the while in the most harmonic tone.

She took me by the hand, and towed me back to sea,
the tide was out, which sealed my fate: the current soon took me.
I tried to swim for life, yet I was going down,
but much to my surprise, the water did not make me drown.

Instead, I grounded on a bank, of coral it was made,
and there she lay beside me, just in her natural state.
Then she told me of her life, they were wondrous tales,
she said: “welcome to my palace, I’m the princess of whales.

If you will be my prince, wherever we may roam,
then write a goodbye letter to your folks at home.”
So here it is, dear finder: so long and fare thee well,
if you take this message home, you’ll have a tale to tell!

John W. Howell:

Hurricane Harvey,

Came to visit our dream home . . .

Stole love for the beach.

Niasunset:

Bournemouth… Several ten years ago I lived in this beautiful city. Still I miss those days,… But we visited with my Love, years ago and we stayed in a hotel. I visited the street where I lived and I found the house, but I couldn’t dare to knock the door… Who would be there, my Landlady… her children,… I didn’t. Anyway, But I wanted to write this at the beach one at night we all waited for the Sunrise… It was the first time for me… And so beautiful. 

Teri Polen:

I love the beach, Esther. It’s my happy place and favorite location to read. Give me an umbrella, chair, and book and I’m out there all day.

Joanne Rambling:

The beach usually looks so lovely, the only downfall it has is that I don’t like sand, I do not like sand, never have my parents lovely the beach but when I was only a baby, I would scream and carry on if sand got on my skin.

Gypsie’s Wonderful World of Words:

I want to walk
the beach with you
without worrying
that there’s somewhere
else you ought to be

I want to feel
the warmth of the sand
beneath our bare feet
walking hand in hand
for hours on end

I want to sit beside you
from days beginning
with breakfast plus lunch
until time for dinner
and wine between us

I want to crawl into bed
to feel the comfort
of your arms around me
with love and lust
and ultimate trust

I want to leave this world
being rocked on your lap
knowing our hearts
were always meant to be
and will be again someday

Nimi Naren:

Brought back nostalgic memories of childhood days pent on the beach and building castles.

Pensitivity101:

We live about 500 yards from the beach and can hear the sea in bad weather.

Our end is open to dogs all year, but if you turn left at the top of the slope, May to September is closed to dogs, though they can be walked along the prom on a lead.

Last year, there were a LOT of visitors exercising their dogs on the sand during those months though.

We only let Maya off when the beach is deserted as her recall needs (a lot of) work, and other doggies to play with are much more interesting than staying with us.

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