From the mind of a mild mannered maniac

The Murderer Did it

Hello Friends, I am back!
Sorry there haven’t been any entries in February, well, until now, that is.
There’s some very odd thing called Family, that has kept me preoccupied for a week or two, but while I have a moment or two to my self, I thought I would spend them with you. Hope this post finds you all happy and healthy.
Heres just a wee snippet of something I have been working on, any feedback/words of wisdom you could impart would be most welcome.
Thank you,
Cliffy 

THE MURDERER DID IT (A Working Title) By Cliff Lewis

“It’s murder”, he declared boldly.

“What are you talking about?”

Private Investigator, and retired police detective, Dave Cribbs, had a crazed expression painted across his, chiselled face
“Murder!”, he repeated emphatically.

“Are you reading one of your silly stories?” Enquired the woman seated to his left in the restaurant booth.

“What? No, don’t you see, it’s as plain as the nose on your face!”

“Well now that’s a lovely thing! My nose is perfectly proportioned for my face shape, thank you very much!”

“No”, said Dave, ignoring the look of indignation on the woman’s face, “look at this!” He waved a rumpled newspaper. The gleam in his eyes was intensifying with every passing second.

“Potatoes 45 cents a pound?”

“No, no the other side.” He wrenched the newspaper from his wife’s tenuous grip and flipped it over.

Suzanne Cribbs scanned the article with an expression of polite disinterest on her petite, some would say, pretty face.
“Yes”’ she said, I see that you have an overblown imagination.

The article in question, outlined the story of a 68 year old multimillionaire recluse Henry S. Davison, who’s naked, body had been discovered cold and inanimate in the bathtub of the locked, ensuite bathroom of his West Vancouver Mansion. A primary investigation had suggested his death was by natural causes. The Police are awaiting results of the Medical examiner’s report, but have found no suspicious circumstances.

Mrs. Cribbs sighed.
“I know we’ve been without a case for a week or two, but this is ridiculous. You might not be aware of local statutes, dear, but you cannot, possibly, be suggesting we investigate death by natural causes?”

Dave Cribbs stabbed the article emphatically
“Except it’s not natural causes, read the fine print.”
“How ‘bout just saving me the trouble, and outlining it for me?”
“OK.” The great detective cleared his throat with exaggerated gusto.

“Multi Million dollar mogul publicly announces he’s severing ties with his money-grubbing family, aka cuts them all out of the will, adopts the life of a hermit, then two years later, is found dead in his bathtub.”

He pounded on the table, with such a force, that the salt cellar toppled, causing a diner at an adjacent table to drop her fork. She snorted, glared in his direction for a full second, then stormed out.

“I’ve been on the job long enough to know a murder when I smell one, Suzanne, take my word for it, this,” he tapped the paper again, “is definitely one.”

His wife just chuckled. There was no denying her husbands powers of deduction, but this was laughable.

They finished lunch, and strolled casually down the block to the offices of Cribbs & Cribbs Investigation.

Several days later, Private Investigator David Cribbs was proved right.

.>>>>> To Be Continued <<<<<

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CONVERSATION, WHAT’S THAT?

So,

I’m sitting in a crowded café, with the lilting tone of The Beach Boys in my earbuds, faced with the leisurely task of writing something, at least, halfway interesting for today’s blog.

Someone is screaming from a table nearby, I assume it is from pent up excitement, and not some real emergency. Other than that, the only thing I hear is the indecipherably, merged rumblings of the coffee shop’s clientele. Its kind of comforting in a strange way. Different at any rate, from the all too silent surroundings I’d occupy, at this early hour, at home. There, where the ticking of a clock, the dull hum of the refrigerator or the drone of the furnace, can seem like a hundred elephants thundering across the living room floor.

If you suspect that I’m stalling here, then you would be correct. I’m dithering around, as I wait for the caffeine to kick in, and for inspiration to strike. That obviously hasn’t occurred yet, Lol! Oh and yes, in case you’re wondering, I was, indeed, just tittering to myself. The women at the next table appear to be measuring me up for a straight jacket. I’m not concerned, just merely amused and, somewhat, gratified that I have provided them with a moment’s entertainment.

So anyway…
Have you ever wondered how this world of ours keeps functioning? As I glance around me now, I see very few people that don’t have the dull glow of a smartphone, or tablet, screen reflected in their glazed eyes. (I must, in the traditional of serious journalists everywhere, include yours truly, as I stare at this display, and strive to impart some sort of meaningful missive.

The only exception to this internet inseption, seems to be a rowdy bunch of pensioners who are engaged in an ancient rite, which I believe was once referred to as conversation. A few are even reading newspapers. How unique that seems in this age of electronic pacification.

Actually, upon further investigation, I find myself in the awkward position of amending my previous statement. There are a multitude of multitasking millennials who seem to be texting and verbally conversing with their table mates simultaneously. Perhaps our future is in the hands of a far more capable bunch than I initially suspected.

I am not judging, merely observing.
I find myself staring at my own devices for an inordinate amount of time. Oh well, such is life.

Now as I swallow the last dregs of cold coffee and stop to review this rather pathetic blog entry. I must sadly bid you all adieu and farewell. Perhaps next time I will have something important to say. 😉
Keep smiling, and if you made it to the end here, thanks for reading my blog.

I love you all ❤

~CLIFFY

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCpyubr_j_njte9AzuNgR7_w

The gentleman in the photo above is Rick Sare. He is a hardworking, fun loving, long distance Trucker, stationed out of Florida. He is also a witty, charming, and very generous, part-time YouTuber. His channel The Glass Geek, can be found here or by clicking the link above his photo.

Rick’s vlog, which comes out regularly on Mondays and Wednesdays, but also various other times of the week, including live-stream Fridays. is very entertaining. It features fun and unusual roadside attractions, visits to theme parks, box openings, and various other points of interest across The American continent.

Rick’s videos are highlighted by his own special charm, personal introspective reflections, witty repartee and self deprecating humour, and feature some beautiful aerial, drone footage, and occasionally some interactive 360 degree videos.

Why am I telling you all this? Mainly because Rick is my favourite YouTuber, and although his small wonderful devoted group of followers are very loyal, I believe he deserves many more viewers/subscribers than he currently has. Rick cares a great deal about his subscribers, he is constantly working to improve his already excellent filmography techniques and toils endlessly to provide entertaining content. He also goes to great pains to respond to your comments.

Besides, he is fun to watch, and I wouldn’t want you all to miss out on it.

That link again is https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCpyubr_j_njte9AzuNgR7_w

Check it out, and let him know Cliff Lewis sent you.

Thanks for reading,

Have a great week, and keep smiling,

~ Cliffy ☺

SWEET DREAMS

I’m in my happy place. Insulated, protected from cold hard reality, not isolated, no never that.

The world is always within my grasp, a single step away, if that is what I need.
Ah, but here, within this cozy cocoon of my own design, I can be what I please, and do anything my imagination can conjure up for me.

Leaning back, I feel the Earth, gently, slide away. Sights and sounds, of the material world fade slowly but surely into this temporary oblivion. Some distance ahead, the ties that once held me captive, will start to unravel and slowly drift off into the ether , like weightless wisps on a wayward wind.

I can fly like a dove, I can soar to the heavens now, perhaps even far beyond. I can delve to the foggy depths or deeper still. I am no longer earth bound, no longer tied to one place or time. Endless possibilities, boundless adventures are all but a dream away.

I don’t have to pinch myself, and wonder if I’m dreaming, I know I am. Oh, but what dreams these be!
Sometimes I am in the world, well, not this world, perhaps, but another, maybe, or in an alternate universe, Where the sun always shines, the skies are always blue, and there’s a pleasing scent of Honeysuckle, Sweet pea and Lilac in the air.

I am young here, and free to run like the wind, to romp and role around like a carefree child, in a dewy meadow, or to climb high amongst the Cherry Blossoms.

Here, where a gentle brook babbles gently by, a tuneful flock of Plovers, Wrens or nightingales sing a medley of my favourite songs. Peacefully then, I meander from scene to scene.
Sometimes an adventure on the high seas, or Skyward scaling some snow kissed mountain peak, or sightseeing in places I have neither vocabulary nor willingness to attach to world weary passages. Perhaps that is a task for another time or place, Who Knows?
For the present though, in this blissful state, I will awaken refreshed to face a bold new day.

For now though, I wish you sweet dreams, and happiness always,

~Cliffy 🙂

FREE WRITE

What will I write today?
I don’t always plan, or know.
It’s like magic, when inspirations strike,
And on the paper flow.

They can take you to a Wonderland,
Or into a forest deep
Where long forgotten memories
Awaken from their sleep.

when the palette is dryer than desert sand
And my canvas remains a blank.
I’ll Cast into a stream of thought
Or favourite memory bank

Sometimes just an uttered word,
Or phrasing will suffice
It needn’t be a complex theme
Or tricky plot device

When real-life tries to intervene
And my thoughts grow circumspect
Free writes can be refreshing,
care-free moments to reflect.

The kids and I have been having a lot of giggles with this version of Mad Libs. You get the first set of stories for free, but there are many more that can be purchased for a nominal sum.

I found this fun app on the Google play app store, I’m not sure if it is available in IOS for Apple devices, it probably is, but as I am using a Samsung tablet, I am unable to offer that link. Sorry☺

Great fun and a terrific vocabulary builder for developing minds.☺

I just completed a Mad Libs story with the new app. Get in on it at http://bit.ly/Play-MadLibs! #madlibs

A Trucker’s Tale

https://pixabay.com/en/truck-lorry-red-road-24360/

Early morning, and the sun was yet to put in an appearance.
I pressed the accelerator down a fraction harder, and motored along that lonely stretch of highway.
Not a soul about anywhere for miles upon empty miles.
My Semi tractor trailer, hummed along to the tune in my head, interrupted only by an occasional rattle as she navigated an uneven chunk of tarmac. Note to self, change the fuse on the radio circuit.

Around about sunrise, I reached my first destination. A misty, backwater town off of Route 5. At the appointed delivery bay, I unhitched my trailer, and went in search of coffee.
The office was unlocked so I walked in and stood in front of a big messy desk. There was no one on duty, I called out a friendly
“Hallo”
No answer, and after a few minutes of Staring forlornly at a cold empty coffee pot, I helped myself to the paperwork, I needed. I went back out to track down the trailer, I would be hauling to the next drop off.
I found the one I was looking for, retrieved the papers from its dossier compartment, then hitched it up to my rig.

When I got back to the loading bay, there was still no signs of life. Not an entirely unexpected thing. The dude was probably sleeping off a wild night, or had forgotten to set his alarm, or something.

I went back out to my truck and waited. I couldn’t leave, until someone checked the order and signed off on it.

I waited for hours, checking every ten minutes or so, but still there was no signs of life. Then I called dispatch and told them my predicament.

There were some unhappy, and not overly polite words exchanged, but they called me back after another agonising thirty minutes, and gave me the all clear to move on to my next port of call, I’d hate to be the one to deal with that bureaucratic nightmare, but time is money, so what could I do? These goods don’t deliver themselves you know.

I drove approximately two hundred miles to my next stop, where I was greeted by the same eerie silence. Dispatch couldn’t believe it when I called it in.
Two in a row? That was completely unheard of.

I hung up the phone, and was idly thumbing through my email, when I heard a loud bang. It was coming from inside the closed loading bay.
” So you are in there.” I mumbled.

Another loud bang, and then I could swear I heard a low, throaty, growling. A guard dog, perhaps? I tried the side door, it was open. I gazed into the darkened interior.
“Hallo” I called, “you okay in there?”
There was no reply.

I listened for a moment in the doorway. There was a rustling noise, then some grunting, like that of a bear or giant ape. Something moved in the shadows.
“Hallo?” I tried again, then something rushed at me. I only caught a brief glimpse, It was the size of a man, but seemed to have hideous fangs, and clawlike hands.

I ran for my open truck, and dove in head first. The angry beast was close on my heals. I wrestled the door closed, just in time, and got a close up view as it its razor sharp claws, etched five concentric lines across my window.

I fumbled with the key, and finally managed to start my truck. The beast was clawing maniacally at my door, it lost its grip, and was glaring at my reflection in the mirror, as I sped away.

A few miles down the road, I pulled over to gather my wits. I was trembling like a leaf.
I heard a scratching at my door, and looked on in horror, as what seemed like a hundred of the beasts descended on my truck. They snarled and growled, as they closed ranks. Then violently tore open my locked doors, with apparent ease.

I reached behind the seat for my baseball bat, but not in time. I thrashed and struggled as the hideous, creatures started ripping and clawing at my clothes, their gnashing fangs inching closer and closer to my exposed throat.

I let fly one final, blood curdling scream, then closed my eyes to shut out the horror. I knew it was too late.

“Get up, get up!!”
I opened my eyes in surprise, my beautiful wife was standing over me. A quizzical expression on that beautiful face. Where was I? Had I died and gone to heaven?!

“Wake up, Sleepy head!” She was saying. “Breakfast is ready, and you’re gonna be late for work.” My confused expression prompted her to add,
“That truck won’t drive itself you know.”

That’s when I made a big decision.

No more Zombie movies at bedtime.

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