Thursday photo prompt: Beneath #writephoto – The Beast

Posted on December 14, 2018 by Michael

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The beast had always found it easier to stay beneath the lake.

The risk of poking its head above was too great to contemplate nowadays.

There were places more dangerous than others, like near the boat ramp where crowds gathered to watch the tourism boats take off in the hope of catching a glimpse of it.

On those days it swam to the far end of the lake where a cave allowed it to hide and listen to the sounds of the motorboat as it turned at lake’s end and headed back.

It had once stuck its head out and been seen, or at least they thought they had seen it. Once it came across a piece of newspaper floating on the surface and on it was a grainy image taken that day, and if that was all, there was then it felt confident in its own safety.

The beast had lived a long time beneath the surface, live a long time alone after its mate had died. It was the last of its kind, and it wondered how long it might survive.

The lake, however, was its home, and only one human had ever come close to it, that was an encounter both remembered. The human had watched closely as the beast came close one as curious as the other. Their eyes met, and the human smiled, and the beast knew they were both safe.

Written for: https://scvincent.com/2018/12/13/thursday-photo-prompt-beneath-writephoto/

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December 13: Flash Fiction Challenge – Apple Pies and Slices

Posted on December 14, 2018 by Michael

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December 13, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about Cora Kingston. You can answer any of the questions history obscures or completely make up a Cora Kingston story. Go where the prompt (and the name) leads you.

I was searching for my grand parents grave when I came across the gravestone of Cora Kingston.

It wasn’t all that remarkable save for the one line that grabbed my attention: “A baker of delicious apple pies and slices”.

I thought she must have made a mark on those around her for that line to be etched onto her gravestone.

She eighty-nine years old, so the stone said, I calculated that was a lot of apple pies.

I assumed this lady was missed in death, the tribute said so much, and I wondered what they might add about me.

 

Written for: https://carrotranch.com/2018/12/14/december-13-flash-fiction-challenge/

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Reena’s Exploration Challenge #67 – Stepping Out.

Posted on December 14, 2018 by Michael

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The old man wrestled for days with the notion of a bridge in time.

Was he fooling himself it might be better on the other side?

After all, he had lived a long time, seen a lot of stuff,

His children were grown and living their own lives

Would they miss him?

More importantly, he reasoned he would miss them.

Time he knew marched on whether or not you wanted it too.

Each year the number beside his name grew larger

He wasn’t the once fit and able man he was in his youth

He moved slower and yet time sped up.

He thought about where it was he sat

Did he want to move forward?

Was keeping abreast of things in a rapidly changing world

Where technology had long left him behind

A world where he thought he might be welcomed

He’d given up long ago understanding what it was that was happening,

Around him, life and his environment was changing

He was floundering within it and the prospect of tomorrow

Tended more to frighten him than excite him.

The old man had spent days grappling with the dilemma

But finally took a step forward,

Knowing he was stepping out of his comfort zone.

Written for: https://reinventionsreena.wordpress.com/2018/12/13/reenas-exploration-challenge-67/

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Weekly Challenge Dec/11/2018 – Wishing

Posted on December 13, 2018 by Michael

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Image:Credit: Kukasmuu.com

Hurrying to work the weather so dismal,

All this Christmas cheer is humbug to me.

The people on the street irritate me

The joy on their faces does not fit the circumstances

Feet are frozen, fingers numb

I need a bigger coat, more warm layers

How I long for the office, air con to settle my nerves.

I hate my job,

The tedious repetition no better when its cold

Around me, people talk of holidays

Family get-togethers, gifts and surprises.

I sit at lunch in a corner excluded from the festivities

I’m the Grinch in their eyes

But alone in the world like the man in the phone booth

One voice in the wilderness of cold

Shivering inside his red box,

I hope he wasn’t calling for help,

Not that there’s much this time of year

When focusing on ourselves is all that’s needed.

Folding up my lunch scraps I pass the pretty girl

The one who works in accounts

And I wonder who loves her:

I wish it were me.

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Written for: https://helenevaillant.com/2018/12/11/what-do-you-see-dec-11-2018/

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Tale Weaver #201 – Morning – December 13th – Miss Marble’s Morning Dew

Posted on December 13, 2018 by Michael

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Miss Marble, witch, of 46 Grimace Street, awoke to begin her day as she had for so many years she’d now forgotten how many. When you had lived a long time you forgot how long it had all been but nevertheless each day brought with it commitments and obligations.

Her first thought was how comfortable she felt snuggled in her bed. When she was younger, the mornings were a joyful time when full of enthusiasm and focus she’d ply her trade in spells and potions.

It had to be old age she told herself despite her daily dose of elixir, time was catching up with her. It was getting harder and harder to get started each day, and that worried her as she enjoyed her job and she felt a real obligation to her neighbours and her clients.

Today she knew it was important to collect, as much morning dew as she could as there was an order from Silas Snodfellow, a wizard from beyond the black stump and a great wizard in his own cauldron, as Miss Marble told herself.

So feeling she had to get up, she busied herself dressing and collecting her morning dew collecting sponge. It was a special sponge she had acquired from the Witch of Kennasay, an old learned witch, who had been a great help teaching Miss Marble, the ins and outs of potion making, her specialty being the value of morning dew.

Out in her yard, Miss Marble found the morning sun was warming and the dew was plentiful upon the ground. Within twenty minutes she had gathered enough and had squeezed the dew into a jar ready for her morning potion making.

Silas Snodfellow needed the morning dew in a potion he used to ward off Christmas beetles, which he found each year descended on his home in plague proportions. Morning dew and a liberal sprinkling of dried pigs blood seemed to do the trick and Silas was a grateful customer.

She had his order ready in no time and found herself in her kitchen mixing her morning cereal and planning to sit on her veranda, a cup of tea in hand, and watch the world of Grimace Street go by.

Her neighbour and good friend Mansur Stigglefod came over with her coffee, and the two women sat together in the morning sun, sipping their respective brews, observing the street going about its business.

Sitting with a cup of tea and enjoying the company of her friend was an ideal way to begin each day, thought Miss Marble as she and Mansur brushed away the flies gathering around their respective heads.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/12/13/tale-weaver-201-morning-december-13th/

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Crimson’s Creative Challenge #5 – Alien Landing

Posted on December 12, 2018 by Michael

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When the aliens landed on the farm, they were surprised how easy it was to take over the earth.

They had arrived in the night, their spacecraft putting on a more than impressive display of lights and lasers.

The farmer had watched from his veranda and was fascinated by their arrival, but farming was a serious business, and he had no time for ostentatious displays such as he was seeing.

For Erk and Jerk, it was their first time visiting another planet with the express instructions to dominate and destroy. Their spacecraft, the Flert, was equipped with the latest space technology available, but they didn’t need any of it as it turned out.

Donning their earth helmets, they were able to translate their message into English and have the farmer agree to their demands.

The farmer was agog at what they wanted. For his farm, they offered him twelve million pieces of gold. As he was battling a drought of catastrophic proportions, he accepted. He reasoned if the aliens were so keen they could have it. After all, he was down to his final overdraft at the bank, and the silos were empty, so there was not much of value save for a few scrawny sheep and cattle.

The next day with the farmer gone Erk and Jerk settled down to dominating the earth. Looking around they found the landscape huge, the land stretched so far, it was basically red dirt, and they wondered how long it would be before the people from the next farm might come by for a cup of tea.

They took it in turns to watch the horizon from the silo.

Within a week with nothing happening, they raised their flag of ownership and declared the earth theirs.

It surprised them a week later to find many metal machines in their front yard, each of which had large guns trained on them.

Erk and Jerk looked at each other and transmitted a message: Maybe we got those landing co-ordinates wrong?

 

Written for: https://crimsonprose.wordpress.com/2018/12/12/crimsons-creative-challenge-5/

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3 Things Challenge

Posted on December 12, 2018 by Michael

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Today’s words: Lollipop, Fountain, Trip

There was a buzz of excitement in the room as the teacher announced the end of year excursion. It was to be a trip to the world famous Luna Park on the edge of the harbour.

Permission notes were given out and as every student was anticipating the day they were returned the next day.

The day of the trip arrived and everyone was at school ready to get on the bus. No sooner had the bus left and the questions started. “Are we there yet?” These from the kids who’d never been to the city before.

But they arrived soon enough and with tickets in hand they entered the park and looked at the rides available to them.

The Fountain ride was very popular because it was a hot day and the ride took them through a fountain where they were splashed with water.

As the day drew to a conclusion each kid bought suitable sugary supplies for the homeward trip including the biggest lollipops they had ever seen.

 

Written for: https://hwdailyprompt.home.blog/category/3-things-challenge/

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Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – Lights On the Hill.

Posted on December 11, 2018 by Michael

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Image: Jodi McKinny

There were lights on the hill again. We’d seen them the night before. They belonged to a car, but by the time we reached the spot they were gone.

It was comforting to think there were others out here. We’d been alone for three months now, just the six of us travelling together and at present camped in a lovely spot beside the river.

When the upheaval occurred, it took everyone by surprise. The sudden rise in sea levels flooded every coastal city, and now all that remained were skeletons where only the tallest building existed above the water line.

The surprise was that it actually happened. There had been speculation for years, and no one wanted to believe so when it happened, and many millions perished it meant the end of civilization, as we knew it.

The lights never blinked, never suggested anything like come join us, it was more a matter of stay where you are, and we’ll all be content.

 

Written for: https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2018/12/10/fffaw-challenge-195th/

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Photo Challenge #242 – The Tin Can Choir

Posted on December 11, 2018 by Michael

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The Opera House was packed, the crowd in anticipation of an event, which in later days would be described as unforgettable.

The Tin Can Choir was performing, and there was an air of expectation amongst the crowd as the choir had been assembled from a variety of recycling plants around the state and their reputation was second to none, mainly as they were the only choir of their kind.

But not all was harmonious within the choir ranks. Jack Daniels, the choir master, was a hard task master and had rubbed several cans the wrong way in his efforts to achieve excellence.

As a result, the Diet Coke had been dropped from the choir for not having a sweet enough voice as well as being a trouble maker. DC as it was known was not at all impressed to find himself excluded from the choir and set out on a journey of revenge.

It substituted the choir masters baton with a magic wand he bought from the local ‘Wands Are Us’ store in the High Street.

When Jack, the choir master, tapped what he thought was his baton all hell broke loose.

The choir members found their voices deserted them. The baritones discovered they were out of tune; the sopranos cracked, and the tenors were unable to get out a single coherent sound.

The more Jack tapped his baton and waved it about the greater the chaos and mayhem around him.

The audience sat in stunned silence before they, having paid large sums of money to attend, became restless and began making overtures of their own, none of which were complimentary.

The choir master sensing a riot on his hands turned to face the unhappy audience and in doing so waved his baton towards them causing further mayhem as the first five rows burst into song, then the side seats joined in, and in the confusion his baton had the entire audience singing the well-known ballad, “If I had a can or two I’d drink each one with you.”

Meanwhile, the choir, which by now was distraught over its inability to sing, stopped to listen to the audience, pounding out the song with increasing amounts of gusto. The choir attempted to join in but to no avail and fell silent as the choir master struggled to gain control.

While all this was happening DC stood in the wings smiling broadly, ever so pleased at the bedlam within the concert hall.

Knowing this was its last time near the choir it felt the twenty dollars sixty it spent on the wand was a very sound investment.

By nights end the audience had sung two more songs and received a standing ovation from the now mute choir. Jack Daniels the choir master, was being led away, his career ruined, his brain addled and was heard muttering as they strapped him into a strait jacket, “I’ll never have a drink again.”

It was as described above an unforgettable experience and the Tin Can Choir went on to greater fame as a clown choir.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/12/11/photo-challenge-242/

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Wordle #213 – Winny’s Trial.

Posted on December 10, 2018 by Michael

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This week’s words: Trial wrestling regulate nuanced uninterrupted chiromancer* (a person who is supposedly able to predict a person’s future by interpreting the lines on the palms of their hands.) magical carrion effusive input impact dominant

Winny the magical wonder girl was on trial. It had all come to a head when her chiromancer abilities seemed to get out of hand, and her predictions led to some unfortunate results.

Winny had a thing for palms, preferable other people’s. For Winny there was nothing better than an uninterrupted session a client’s hand in her own, reading into the lines and discussing the impact the lines had on the owner’s life.

The trouble began when Herb Massive the local wrestling champion after a series of bad luck went to see Winny to see if she could input anything into his future which was looking like going down the gurgler.

Winny was a naturally effusive person and greeted Herb with her usual over the top enthusiasm. This was quickly defused when she looked at the dominant lines on his palm.

There followed a series of tut-tuts and then a long silence, during which she looked deeply into his palm until finally lifting it and smelling it.

She made some remark that Herb’s hand and palm had the smell of carrion about it and that’s when the trouble started. Herb took exception to his hand being spoken of in that manner and in what can only be described as a pointed if not nuanced reply during which there was a number of effusive gestures none of which Winny took as complimentary.

Winny knowing the moment in which Herb’s temper might be regulated took things upon herself and knocked Herb over the head with her heavy volume of the text, ‘Palm Readings Made Easy.’

Now the trial was taking place, Herb had recovered but wanted Winny, the magical wonder girl, rubbed out.

The trial came to a conclusion when Winny after demonstrating her chiromancer abilities to the judge, convinced him he was going to be the dominant candidate in the upcoming elections and so should get out there on the campaign trail.

 

Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/12/10/wordle-213/

Posted in Uncategorized, Writing prompt | Tagged , , , | 7 Comments