Peter Rose
Bio
Collections of "my" vocal essays with additions, are available as printed books ASIN 197680615 and 1980878536 also some fictional works and some e books available at Amazon;-
amazon.com/author/healthandfunpeterrose
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Stories (290/0)
Reflections are not always what they seem
Reflections are not always what they seem. Strangeness is all around us. The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own, given the circumstances that did not surprise me as much as it should have done. Let me start from the beginning, I was driving home late, about two am, along a route I had never used before, my sat nav went crazy and directed me along a twisty, very narrow, lane. The darkness was made more complete by the overhanging trees and the heavy rain. Then the screen wipers failed, the car is only three months old, this should not happen; I peered through the rain-washed screen and could make out a large brick built entrance gateway, on my left, as I reached this the engine stopped, the lights went out, total shut down. I groped around in the glove box and found a flashlight, this did work. The rain was still hammering on the roof and windows of the car, the wind was gusting enough to slightly move one ton of automobile on its suspension. The electric windows did not open, the radio did not work, I tried my cell phone that showed no signal, but the oddest things were that the clock on my cell had stopped and also the dashboard clock had also stopped. The whole electric system of the car had just switched out, even the alarms. I shone the torch at the gateway and saw that the brick work pillars, either side of the entrance, were attached to a low brick wall that curved away into the dark and that there was a heavy looking metal gate, suspended from one of the pillars, but this was not fastened to the other pillar, it hung partially open. I thought I glimpsed a light shining some distance away down the driveway. I turned off my torch and could just make out a light in among the rain. I resolved to brave the wet and wind and seek help, as I opened the car door the rain stopped, the wind speed dropped all was calm. I was startled by this sudden change and sat back in the car, it immediately started blowing a gale and raining a deluge. I opened the door, and all was calm and still again. I left the car and used the flashlight to check the pathway that headed towards that glimmer of light, the path was dry! I turned and shone my light at my car, it too was dry. I walked slowly towards the hope of help, Occasionally I shone my light around, the low brick walls either side ended after only a few feet, the land either side of my path appeared to be flat open lawn for as far as my torch could reach. I turned back to check my car and it was a measure of how spooked I was that I was relieved to see it still there. The path curved to my left and trees started to appear out of the darkness, as I walked round the curve, I lost sight of my car but in front of me was a modern looking house, quite a substantial one, brick built with a grand front door one that looked far too wide for the rest of the building but all looking very modern, lots of glass and polished steel supports. The light was over the front door, I did not realise immediately but I should not have been able to see this light while still in my car, the curve of the drive and the trees would have prevented this. The modern appearance reduced my sense of unease, There was only the one light, nothing showed from any of the windows. I searched for a bell push, expecting to see a camera-controlled entry system but the door was just a blank sheet of polished metal, as I reached it, the door opened, silently. I called out my voice seeming to echo into an empty hallway. I stepped inside and instantly lights came on somewhere high above me, the entrance hallway was clear of furniture, a staircase led upwards from my left-hand side while on my right were several closed doors, even these internal doors seemed to be made of polished metal. I called again but the whole place seemed to be deserted, that odd partial echo, you get in an empty space was almost overwhelming in this strange situation. I pushed at the first of the doors on my right and it immediately opened, and light came on. There was no furniture but there was a mirror on the wall. I looked into this, but the reflected image was not of myself.
By Peter Rose2 days ago in Fiction
Humans can be so dumb
Humans can be so dumb. E mails are not just for humans. My human servant is so old he was a fan of the Archy and Mehitabel poems of Don Marquis, which is how I come to know cockroaches and cats can be friends. It also showed a cockroach can type in order to communicate with humans, when really driven to it.
By Peter Rose15 days ago in Fiction
The dance that instructs
The dance that instructs. Learning is not just from books. Chapter 1 Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Very few people managed to see this nightly event because of the secrecy surrounding the area where it is normal. The government had ordered the area to be a military training zone and public access was very limited, even in daylight, at night it was total banned because of the use of live ammunition in night training exercises. To the soldiers they were normal, the official secrets act forbids them from talking about what they saw, but to be honest they had become so accustomed to the event that they did not consider it worth talking about. Being the military, each night was reported in the dry jargon of all military routine report. Each purple cloud was counted, along the length, in time, of the dance. Each morning this report was logged and filed and forgotten about. Some soldiers had even tried to join in the dance but the moment they stepped into the valley; the purple clouds moved away from the intruders. No sound was ever heard and not one human ever felt threatened.
By Peter Rose24 days ago in Fiction
Time and fate are immutable
Time and fate are immutable. What is, has to be. I am writing this record of the events, in the hope that it will survive even if I do not. As with so many things in life, it all began with an accident. I was exploring a wild and desolate place in a remote corner of the Serengeti. I was alone many miles from my base camp and the companions who had stayed there while I roamed far and wide in my ranger rover defender. I had water, food, a spare can of fuel, and a radio in the car so I was not taking great risks. I was walking along a windswept ridge, in the early morning light, before the heat and full glare of the sun started to bake the land. I stood on a loose rock, which rolled away and caused me to fall. I rolled down the slope hitting my head on more loose stones, nothing serious but momentarily disorienting. My fall started a mini landslide of loose earth and rocks and so I ended up near the bottom of the slope coved in dirt but still conscious. I wiped the dirt away from my eyes and found I was looking at a small entrance to a cave that ran under the ridge. Although very few people had explored this area I was still surprised to see a cave, since none had been reported anywhere near this location at any time in the past. I sat up and dusted myself down, before starting to pull the loose rocks from the entrance. I cleared away enough to allow me to crawl in. I could see this was a larger cavity than I was expecting. I returned to my vehicle and found my torch, water, food, and radio; I decided against calling my friends until I knew what it was that I had found. I stuffed all into my rucksack and went back to the cave. Being a cautious person, through past experience, I had also brought the shovel used to dig the rover out of sand traps and so I cleared the entrance and the surroundings, enough to be satisfied that a further land slide would not trap me inside the cave, and I had the shovel to dig may way out of it came to that. Once fully inside the cavity I immediately felt cooler, getting out of the rising sun, dropped the temperature many degrees and now was more suited to physical activity. To my surprise the floor, walls and roof were all solid rock and very little sand had seeped in, just a light dusting covered the floor. I could stand up straight but needed to keep a watch since there was very little clearance for my head. The cave was about 1 meter width and curved away to my right, once round this curve I need the torch, it kept on curving to my right while going down a gentle slope, nothing to cause concern but always going down deeper into the ground. I was going slow and stopping frequently to listen for the sound of rocks moving, just in case. I lost all sense of time, forgetting to check my watch before entering the cave, meant I have no measurement of how long I had been walking downwards. I guessed about half an hour then I found a most extraordinary thing. The cave opened out into a cavern at least five meters wide four meters high and twenty meters long. The floor was clean, no sand, no loose dust, absolutely clean, flat, and smooth. In fact it was clean to the point of being sterile and reminded me of the research laboratories back in my university time. I shone the torch all around and in its bright LED light I could see a clearly man made, rectangular structure. It took me a few moments to take this in, what a find. I tried to radio my friends but there was no reception just a buzz.
By Peter Roseabout a month ago in Fiction
Old walls have memories
Old Walls have memories. Time and stone last forever. If walls could talk? What would I have to say? I have stood for a thousand years, been repaired many times and parts of me have been rebuilt, but I am still the same wall that the Saxons built in the year 1023. They used wood, mud, and stones from the old Roman building. It was not until the Normans reached this part of England about 1070 that I was made into the magnificent structure I am today. They used quarried granite and the mortar formulated by the Romans, in fact many of my stone blocks were brought from the quarry by people enslaved by the Roman soldiers. It is these blocks that give me continuation, from the time of Alfred, and onto today.
By Peter Roseabout a month ago in Fiction
THE REALITIES OF OLD AGE
The realities of old age Feeling sorry for future generations I was born in 1942 and I am fortunate in that although over 80 years old, the teeth I still have are my own and I need no “false” dentures, I use glasses for reading but my distance sight is still reasonable. I can still do my yoga stretches and follow these with 20 press ups every day, may be because I do this every day, I avoid the problems of cramp in leg muscles for most of the time. My spatial awareness and reaction times are reasonable. But I am old, even in modern times I am old and if I had lived this long a thousand years ago, I would have been a freak, something to be venerated simply because I was still alive. I am an engineer (electro-mechanical) by both nature and training but while I am interested in the latest engineering advances, I cannot pretend, even to myself, that I fully understand every aspect. I am from the Newtonian understanding of physics, even at school I was taught to always go back to basics, in order to follow, understand and predict the behaviour of material objects. We understood the cycles of water and carbon, We learnt the basic rules about matter and energy being transformed but never created or destroyed. We learnt to always consider “what happens next.” The marvels of quantum physics and quantum mechanics are concepts I did not have to use during my working life and so I do not have a grasp of the uses these are being put to now.
By Peter Rose2 months ago in Longevity
Why we need to meditate and Pray every day
Why we need to meditate and Pray every day. Not just an emergency measure One session of exercise does not result in an instant good effect on the physical body, it takes repeated exercise to gradually improves any physical body. One tablet of any medicine, natural or chemical, rarely provides an instant cure. Taking one step does not mean you have reached your destination.
By Peter Rose2 months ago in Longevity
An unlikely warning
An Unlikely warning. Angels do not always have wings The soft white sand seemed to go on forever, the sea to my left so blue and calm, while to my right the trees and shrubs looked so green. The wind was so light nothing moved. I had slipped off my shoes to feel the warm dry sand between my toes as I walked so slow along the heavenly shore. The sun was fresh risen from that endless sea, still cool enough for skin and head. I was wearing just my beach shorts and carrying my sandals. This was paradise on earth, a tiny tropical island with no commercial development, in fact no development at all since no one lived here. The island had only rainfall to feed its lush plant growth, a few indigenous fishermen had landed their canoes here at odd times over the years but never settled, never claimed it as belonging to anyone. My sailing yacht was moored in a tiny bay, which was now on the other side of the island. I could walk round it in an hour if I did not dawdle and keep looking at shells or plants. Cutting across the interior was no problem, just tall grass, palm and coconut trees and the occasional thicket of thorn bush. No animals had settled here, the birdlife was seaborn, and transient, no cliffs to nest on but no predators either. I am 55 years old retired with money stashed away in various banks around the world, I keep it that was as a hedge against any particular currency collapsing and to make it harder for anyone, especially the taxation authorities, to know just how much I am worth. To tell the truth I am not sure myself, but I do not care. I have no family, never married, not know of any children I have sired. No responsibilities or cares, I drift around the warmer and more pleasant seas, in my own little ocean-going bubble.
By Peter Rose2 months ago in Fiction
So what did happen?
So what did happen? Any truth is a possibility It was a dark and stormy night, no, really it was, November in England and 2am. The wind was gusting strong enough to bend the branches on the old trees outside my window, the squalls of rain crashed into these windows, waking me from a troubled sleep. I tried the lights, nothing, the power was out, not unusual when storms got this violent. I stumbled from my bed trying to get my mind into some sort of action. I kept a torch on my bedside table for such situations and so had no trouble getting to my tiny sitting room. Then the torch went out, flat battery, which was odd since the battery was almost new and modern LED lights are economical in power use. The log fire was still flickering with life and was soon encouraged into producing warmth and flame powered light. I lit up a couple of candles and stood an old, blackened kettle on the step beside the burning logs. I promised myself hot chocolate but poured a large whisky instead, the glass and bottle handy, where I left them just three hours ago. The battery on my laptop was fully charged, so I could try and find news about this particular storm. I clicked start and then my problems really began. Instead of going to the BBC weather, I got a grainy black and white image of a snowstorm. It took several seconds before my sleep addled brain could react to this. I rechecked my start up procedures and I got the same thing, I was not in control of what the laptop was showing, which means I has not in control of what it contained. I shut down completely. I waited then restarted, same thing. I was feeling very much alone, not only in my cottage in the middle of the night, but I knew the phone lines would be down along with power lines and cell phone reception was always variable at best. The Broad band hub was dark, no power and its battery exhausted. How do I regain control of my laptop? I would need internet connection so that I could not obey my brain telling me to reset your password. I tried more neat Scotch, but no inspiration came. I tuned in my battery powered radio but could not find connection to any station. The battery was almost flat in this as well as the torch. I shut everything down, added a couple of logs to my fire, put the spark guard back in place and went back to bed. I could not sleep, the questions of what, and who, and how, had someone taken over my computer haunted me. If there was no web connection how had anyone got into my system? When I went to bed first time all had been OK, so what ever happened must have been between the time I shut down and the time the cables all got torn apart. Why the black and white snowstorm? Nothing made much sense. Then my cell phone rang. No caller number shown and indeed the connection bars showed no connection available. I picked up and pressed answer. I asked who is calling but got no answer, just silence, this was beginning to get on my nerves. I pressed close call and waited, the phone rang again, and again same situation of silence when I answered. The state of charge indicator was showing very little power left, which was odd it was fully charged yesterday and not used since. I turned the phone off, shut down completely. I tried to sleep and failed completely; I know I had been drinking but not drunk to point of imagining stuff. I thought I may be dreaming some sort of nightmare, if so it was one I could not wake up from. I went to my bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, very definitely not dreaming this.
By Peter Rose2 months ago in Fiction
fusion of intellect and intuition
The fusion of intuition and intellect The power of the physical when joined by the ethereal The fusion of intuition and intellect into one operating force has many advantages, decision making by the intuition is rapid and action to carry out that decision, guided by the intellect, is in harmony with the physical world we live in, on Gaia. The intuition is ethereal and so cannot control physical activity, only a physical force can do this, the intellect is part of the physical existence and so can control physical activity. If the intuition suggests turn right, then the intellect can tell the body to turn to the right and walk. Without the brain, the intellect, giving orders to the flesh and blood, the legs and the muscles, nothing would happen, the intuitive command to turn right, would be ignored.
By Peter Rose3 months ago in Longevity
