FFfAW Challenge-Week of January 17, 2017 – Shifting the Piano

Posted on January 17, 2017 by Michael

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Image: Shivangi Singh

It was one of those “Right Said Fred”* moments. Bozo had asked his mates, Simmo, Paddo and Mickey to help move the piano from his place to his sisters.

Bozo lived on the top floor and needed help. First they thought they’d carry it down the stairs and load it onto the carrier but it was too heavy and the doorway too narrow. How Bozo got it into his place remains a mystery.

Simmo suggested we take it down via the balcony. Take the rail down and with ropes sling it over the side. But that was just as hard as Mickey wasn’t the strongest in our team and we needed strength a plenty for this job.

So we sat down and Paddo opened the slab of beer he’d bought and we all had a think.

After two or three beers Bozo had a good idea. Leave the piano where it was and swap apartments with his sister. We all agreed it was a good idea and opened another beer.

 

* https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ge_4SlJWfl0

 

Written for: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/01/16/fffaw-challenge-week-of-january-17-2017/

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Wordle #138 “January 16th, 2016” – The PM

Posted on January 16, 2017 by Michael

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This week’s words: Yew (any of several evergreen, coniferous trees and shrubs: the fine-grained, elastic wood of any of these trees: an archer’s bow made of this wood: this tree or its branches as a symbol of sorrow, death, or resurrection) Harbinger Dross (waste matter; refuse. Metallurgy. a waste product taken off molten metal during smelting, essentially metallic in character. British. coal of little value.) Pour Crush Trudge Prickle Green Inward Psittacism (mechanical, repetitive, and meaningless speech.) Toes Froth

The dross that came from his mouth was embarrassing to say the least. The psittacism he received as a result only served to make him try harder. We did try to explain that it was better if he didn’t allow such piffle to pour from his mouth but rather give it a second before his brain engaged with his mouth.

Not wishing to crush him completely we suggested he look for harbingers of how he was going. Audience asleep meant something as did the rolling of our eyes when he made some outlandish comment. After all we explained being Prime Minister did come with some responsibilities. You couldn’t just say anything. Despite the efforts of the prospective leader of the free world.

Think inward we said, wriggle your toes when you feel you are about to froth at the mouth.

We suggested he go out when he felt in a pickle because something had prickled him into action he might regret. He had developed a habit of grabbing his favourite yew bow and firing arrows at effigies of his most disliked opponents. His yew bow painted a bright green he carried over his shoulder as he’d trudge out to the target area more often than not practicing his own brand of psittacism usually aimed at the comments he’d either heard or read about in the morning papers.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/01/16/wordle-138-january-16th-2016/

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Saturday Mix – January 14, 2016 – Red Power Shorts

Posted on January 14, 2017 by Michael

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The task: a story in 100 words (better if less) with a conflict or ambiguity which creates a surprise ending.

He’d waited impatiently for them to arrive. At last a package. He ripped it open and there they were. His new red power shorts.

Slipping them on he felt the power surge through his legs. He tried them out in his backyard. Perfect! He checked his profile, he did cut a dashing figure.

In the park was where he made his impression. The joggers he blew away. The girls who scorned him as slow and sluggish were left open mouthed. Feeling good he momentarily forgot the important thing of leaning into the corner.

The tree stopped his power shorts.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/01/14/saturday-mix-january-14-2016/

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January 12: Flash Fiction Challenge – Who Gives a Crap?

Posted on January 13, 2017 by Michael

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January 12, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that expresses a strong concern, something to give a crap about. Something that brings out the feeling to stand up. How can you use it to show tension or reveal attitudes?

My editor as far as I was concerned had one bad habit. She always wanted more from me. “Give a crap!” she’d say as we discussed my latest effort. A fantasy in involving a witch living in a suburban street who was capable of no end of good and evil all wrapped up together.
“Who will read this?” she’d ask. “Its quaint and trite and as a character she isn’t believable.”

So I’d walk away feeling why should give a crap about what she thought, after all my writing made me feel good. Wasn’t that the most important factor?

 

Written for: https://carrotranch.com/2017/01/12/january-12-flash-fiction-challenge/

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Thursday photo prompt – Swan #writephoto – Marg Swan

Posted on January 12, 2017 by Michael

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Marg Swan was very dim

Considering her name

What an irony she couldn’t swim.

 

Marg Swan ate chocolate chips

She grew to be quite round

Sat a table on her hips.

 

Marge Swan hated the sea

All that water just wasn’t right

Paddled only to her knee.

 

Marg Swan married Randy Duck

A marriage made in heaven

They loved to ride in a truck.

 

Marg produced many little Ducks

Randy the proud father, chest puffed out

His virility well and truly stuck.

 

Marg Swan grew old and died

Buried her on the side of the hill

Family gathered and wondering, cried.

 

Written for: https://scvincent.com/2017/01/12/thursday-photo-prompt-swan-writephoto/

 

 

 

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Tale Weaver #102 – 12th January – The Winter Chill – Miss Marble’s Friend Cath

Posted on January 12, 2017 by Michael

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Image © Winter Woolly: Used with Permission

 

There was one thing the residents of Grimace Street liked about the winter. There wasn’t one. While the rest of the town froze knee deep in ice and snow Grimace Street was each day bathed in a warm sunlight.

It hadn’t always been like that. In the early days of Grimace Street with a young Miss Marble living at the end of a dusty road she never paid much attention to the seasons as she was always super busy with orders to be filled and concoctions to prepare.

Over the years she accumulated neighbours and it wasn’t until she discovered one her neighbours huddled up and shivering in her bed that Miss Marble thought there may be a way of alleviating the cold winter.

Miss Marble loved her neighbours and they loved her. One side was the delightful lady with grey bangs who would often come over and sit with Miss Marble on sunny evenings and together they’d chew the fat over goings on in Grimace Street.

The lady with the grey bangs whose name was Cath, was also a wonderful dog person. She had that ability to befriend any dog and her own small dog, Lycra, which stuck to her side at all times, was a great friend and companion to Miss Marble’s dog Sal. So while Cath and Miss Marble sat sipping their tea the dogs would lie together taking comfort from each other.

One night in the dead of winter Cath didn’t appear on Miss Marble’s veranda. It was bitterly cold and Miss Marble worried for her friend went over to see if she was ok.

Inside she found Cath huddled in her bed, Lycra up against her, the two of them too cold to move. Cath was never a woman to ask for help and Miss Marble was dismayed to find Cath had no wood for her fire.

Miss Marble being the witch she was, quickly fixed the issue and then set about warming up her old friend.

The next day, the street was pretty much snowed in and Miss Marble was back and forward to Cath’s house making sure she was warm and recovering.

That night she delved into her huge old book of potions and spells. It took her three days to gather the ingredients and experiment to get the desired effect. First she spread the potion around her house to see if it worked and the next morning there was no snow and the garden looked a treat which was a pleasing side effect she hadn’t counted on.

Then she spread some around Cath’s house and sure enough the snow disappeared and the sun shone warmly. This enabled Cath to recover and in time Miss Marble spread her potion further until the whole street became immune to the winter.

People outside of Grimace Street thought it odd but never thought to question thinking Grimace Street was one of those lucky streets that avoided the winter.

It also allowed Miss Marble and Cath to resume their afternoon tea drinking and their natter about one thing and another.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/01/12/tale-weaver-102-12th-january-the-winter-chill/

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Twittering Tales #12 – 10 January 2017

Posted on January 10, 2017 by Michael

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They met a man upon the bridge on their way to market.

The dog growled, the girls screamed.

The man giggled. Then they threw him in the drink. (140 characters)

 

Written for: https://kmmyrman.wordpress.com/2017/01/10/twittering-tales-12-10-january-2017/

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FFfAW Challenge-Week of January 10, 2017 – The Dinner Cruise

Posted on January 10, 2017 by Michael

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Photo: Louise with The Storyteller’s Abode.

A boat cruise along the town’s canals was the perfect way to end the day. We looked forward to the leisurely evening being fed and guided through this historic town. Another cruise was leaving just as ours did and I noticed the two captains arguing in the moments before we set off.

Just as the first course was landing on our plates there was a serious jolt from the back of the boat. My partners wine flew across the table landing in my lap.

One boat then rammed the other in a bid to stay in front.  Tourists on the other boat were encouraged to throw their food at us and soon a fully-fledged food fight was on.

A block of cheese can result in a nasty bruise. At one point bottles of red wine flew through the air one striking the opposing captain.

By the end, both boats were a mess of food scraps. Several tourists expressed outrage and several wanted to know if they could book for tomorrow.

 

Written for: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/01/09/fffaw-challenge-week-of-january-10-2017/

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Haibun Monday #28 – “Childhood Experiences”

Posted on January 9, 2017 by Michael

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The theme this week  is “Childhood Experiences”

 

My aging neighbours are moving out. I’m standing in front of their house remembering the family who lived there when I was a kid. Its long ago now and my memory is clouded by time. But I recall a Sunday afternoon in the autumn following my mother to this house. She went in and there must have been news because she came out upset. Our neighbour was holding her, hugging her. Signs of affection were rare with my parents. But this day I remember my mother being held. Mum’s mother had died. We’d made numerous trips to the hospital over the previous weeks and I don’t recall why we weren’t there at this time. Mum cried that day and like so much of my childhood did all she could to shelter me from the world of adults.

 

out of our old house

autumn leaves litter the ground

one life concludes

 

Written for: https://dversepoets.com/2017/01/09/haibun-monday-28/

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Wordle #137 “January 9th, 2016” – Angelic Queasiness.

Posted on January 9, 2017 by Michael

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This week’s words: Enact  Parapraxis (a slip of the tongue or pen, forgetfulness, misplacement of objects, or other error thought to reveal unconscious wishes or attitudes.)  Scapegrace (a complete rogue or rascal; a habitually unscrupulous person; scamp.)  Meager  Spark  Day Mealy Quarter  Gelatinous Queasy Nicotine Fusion

Greg was feeling particularly queasy. This was a most unusual occurrence because being an angel such physical symptoms were foreign to him. That was the thing about eternity, it went on and on and so did you there was no room for illness so his current situation had him worried. His good friend and colleague, Wayne, Hell’s advocate on earth was looking particularly concerned. He was thinking it may have been the gelatinous fusion he had convinced Greg to drink the other day and now it was reacting as he feared, badly.

It was such an unusual thing to have happen as deities never fell ill so in the back stalls of Hell’s kitchen the other deities, all of the hellish variety, watched to see a human condition enacted before them. It caused a lot of mirth as everyone suspected the mealy mouthed Mickey, the Hell’s Kitchen head chef, had slipped some nicotine into Greg’s drink and it was commonly known that angels and nicotine didn’t mix. Hence the saying arose, he’d been slipped a Mickey.

It could have been and was most likely a parapraxis that unearthed Mickey as the culprit. Wayne wasn’t pleased at all. Not because an angel had been got at but because Greg was his friend and he didn’t like seeing his friend in any pain, after all angels and pain were an eternity apart.

But Mickey, apart from his amazing culinary skills, made the best sushi in all of eternity, it was held up as good enough to die for. He was nothing more than a scapegrace who gave no quarter when it came to being the most unscrupulous devil you could think of and slipping a mickey into Greg was a life-long ambition after all in Hell’s Kitchen everyone expected the worse, what more fun it was when you didn’t.

Right now Greg was not feeling well. The spark had gone out of him and Wayne feared he might have to call for help which he vowed never to do never really thinking a day might arrive where he’d have to.

But now his angelic friend was a meagre representation of his angelic self and that didn’t bode well for anyone. Wayne decided to enact emergency code two. He grabbed Greg and placing him over his knee gave him a jolly good spanking.

To those looking on it was a sure sign of Wayne’s parapraxis feelings towards Greg which didn’t surprise anyone though they all turned away knowing what they were seeing were Wayne’s subconscious parapraxiatious desires spewing forth in front of the patrons of the Kitchen. Some regurgitated their gelatinous concoctions, others felt an uncomfortable queasiness whilst others marked the day as one to remember.

Whatever their reactions Greg suddenly sat up, slapped Wayne across the face, called him a scamp and a scapegrace then hugged him in gratitude for bringing him back from the abyss of mortality.

After that it was business as usual with Mickey scowling in the kitchen his mind already in scapegrace mode awaiting his next opportunity.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/01/09/wordle-137-january-9th-2016/

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