100 Word Wednesday: Week 59 – Darcy’s Odd things Emporium.


Image: Linda Xu

The blue bike had been against the wall for some weeks before it wasn’t. Behind the wall was Darcy’s Odd Things Emporium.

Darcy stocked a frightening array of odd things. Scaly creatures in bottles, some without scales, the furry, the curly and the naked.

Not only were there odd things on the shelves but an odd thing might often be the assistant who sold you what it was you desired.

The bike attracting attention was taken into the shop and mounted in the window next to a large clear bottle in which some thought was a cyclist in yellow lycra.


Written for: https://bikurgurl.com/2018/02/21/100-word-wednesday-week-59/

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Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – The Pieman


Image © Enisa

It was on the way to the Fair when I met the Pieman.

He was cooling his feet in the gently flowing creek.

It was hot, and he was on a lunch break. He’d travelled a long way; his pies were hot and steaming in the back of his van.

He mopped his brow, splashed his feet, and nodded to me as he waded by.

On his return, I asked if I could taste one of his pies, to which he asked which flavour I desired.

I asked him his flavours.

There was: plain, salty, mushroom, curry, sweet and sour, chilli, potato, cheesy bacon and bacony cheese.

Then he said he had apple, raspberry, strawberry cream, peach and pecans with passionfruit or without.

Such choices I did remark so to be safe I asked for a sweet and sour with tomato sauce.

I munched, he smiled and then mounting his van drove off to the Fair.


Written for: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2018/02/19/fffaw-challenge-week-of-february-20-2018/

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Twittering Tale #72 – 20 February 2018 – “Hopewell”


Hopewell’s creaking door, the butler’s crossed eyes, his hideous hump and a habit of standing too close were all signs to beware of.
The chill as you settled in bed, the ghostly screams in the night,
The rattling of chains, Cousin Boris’ slimy handshake ensured a sleepless night. (278 characters)

Written for: https://katmyrman.com/2018/02/20/twittering_tale_72-20_february_2018-hopewell/

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Bonus Wordle “Moment of Tangency” – Mocha on the Veranda


Close Sultry Fragile Whisper Pupils Moment of Tangency

Watch video for definition

http://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com/post/156040502765/moment-of-tangency-a-glimpse-of-what-might-have#notes Butterflies Mocha Sweat Veranda Eyelashes Sway

Tonight was a close and sultry night, and we sat out on the veranda taking in whatever cool wafted our way.

The last of the day’s butterflies were flying about, as we sipped our afternoon mochas, expertly made by the sweat of her brow.

We often recall how all this came about. We walked the same path each day but on opposite sides of the road. Our heads always down, our thoughts on the pupils we were to deal with that day.

Then something changed all that for us. Roadworks.

At first, they meant you had to cross to my side of the street, and we used the same footpath. We nodded and then whispered our hellos our thoughts still far from each other.

In time the roadworks necessitated we cross to your side of the street, and your pathway became our meeting place. I began to look for you. I was fragile, recently dumped; I didn’t know you were too.

Your eyelashes highlighted your amazing eyes, and I was drawn to them, and in time we found our emotions swaying towards each other.

As I finished my version of our story, you asked what had brought on this memory.

“I’ve been working on the wordle, Yves asked us to use “Moments of Tangency”, and I looked it up, and it was our story, though we happened, and in many instances, it doesn’t.”

“You’re a funny old sod aren’t you,” she said slipping her arm inside of mine.

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/02/19/bonus-wordle-moment-of-tangency/

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First Line Friday – February 16th, 2018


“I don’t care what you do with it, I just want it gone,” Alex said, pointing at the dollhouse.

‘But what will Heather say when she finds out?” pleaded Mary, his long-suffering wife.

“Mary!” replied Alex, “Heather is thirty-five years old, she’s a marine biologist and is working to save the Great Barrier Reef, I don’t think she’ll mind in the least.”

“But its such a beautiful dollhouse,” said Mary running her hands over the roofline. “My father made it for her.”

“That was when she was born, Heather hasn’t played with it in over twenty-five years. It has to go, it gives me the creeps seeing it sitting here in the lounge room. I’m sure some of those little figurines have moved from time to time.”

“Oh yes,” said Mary with joy in her voice, “I’ve noticed them too, the little man on the top floor is often looking out at us from a different window.”

“All the more reason to get rid of it. Especially when you and I imagine what is not there.”

“Heather used to say they moved too. She’d run in of a morning and say, ‘Mummy the man and lady have finished their breakfast and are now taking a nap.’”


“Oh yes, she had a great time in conversation with them.”

“What exactly did your father create?”

“A dollhouse my love, a dollhouse.”

“It’s turned out more than a dollhouse.”

“Well, you’d have to expect the unexpected with my father, as you’d well know when you put a wizard in charge of creating something for children there will always be something unusual about it.”

“He wasn’t a wizard, he was eccentric.”

“No darling, he was a wizard, look closely, and you’ll see the man in the window is his spitting image.”

“Good grief, does that mean we are stuck with it?”

“Yes,” replied Mary, “ and Heather will be so pleased to see her grandad when she’s home next.”


Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/02/16/first-line-friday-february-16th-2018/

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#SoCS Feb. 17/18 – his/hers


What have you got there?

Oh, just some his and hers.

What’s a his and hers?

Well, this one is a his and this one a hers. I thought that would be obvious.

But what does a his and hers do?

You’ve obviously led a sheltered life, haven’t you?

Well yes, as it turns out.

This one is a his and this one a hers.

You’ve already said that.

I’m just emphasising the fact.

Ok, so what do they do?

Well when you turn on the his, it goes a bright blue; the hers when switched on becomes a dazzling hot pink.

And then?

And then what?

Then you do with it, as your sex needs doing.

Oh, I see, not.

Its really quite simple, I’m surprised you aren’t using one, as everyone seems to be out buying one.

I see. Do they come in any other colours?

Well yes, for the advanced user the his will turn a majestic bottle green and the hers a stunning fire engine red.

And will they do for me?

Make your every dream come true.


Oh yes, guaranteed. Look around at all the satisfied faces passing you by; you too could look like them.

Where do I get them?

Online, here’s the address, best get in soon as I’m sure they will sell out.

I will, I’ll get a his for me and hers for you know who.

Wise move.


Written for: https://lindaghill.com/2018/02/16/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-feb-17-18/


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Weekend Writing Prompt #42 – Revelation


Prose ChallengeIn 250 words or less, write a story about the uncovering of a secret.

The boy came to school each day and sat in the back of my classroom. He was one of those kids you didn’t notice so much as he didn’t draw attention to himself and in a room full of attention seekers he could hide.

He came to my attention the day he wrote:


“I don’t know who to turn to. My parents refuse to listen to me, telling me not to make stories up. Today when I go home mum will say he needs me to help with the afternoon benediction. I’ll say no and mum will tell me off for disobeying him. Help me please?”


I interviewed the boy who said it was just a story. I told him he could talk to me as I had a duty through the school to protect him.

A week later he came back.

His story was horrific. His local priest had been abusing him for some years and in light of the current revelations about the extent of abuse around the world he felt that now he might be believed.

I have never seen a boy so distressed. The effect on him left him feeling worthless, his self-esteem was shattered, and he feared his story told among his classmates would make everything worse.

We didn’t allow that to happen. There were procedures to be followed and the police to be informed.

His parents, at first in denial, realised their son was a victim, and the guilt they shared was devastating for them.

We wanted the boy to stay in school, receive the counselling he deserved and try to restore to him, a life he could live.


Written for: https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2018/02/17/weekend-writing-prompt-42-revelation/

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