It’s Thursday and high time for my entry for Friday Fictioneers, the weekly 100-ish word flash fiction challenge hosted by Rochelle.
This week’s photo has been contributed by fellow Fictioneerer Adam Ickes. To read the other contributions, click on the frog below.
My contribution this week is a bit random. But so’s the photo.
“Hello?” came a voice. “I need the Browski file.” A head poked round the corner. “Whaaaa… you’re a… a… sheep!”
“Indeed!” smiled Kevin, Ram in Charge (records department). “Never fear. We love humans, us.”
“Absolutely love ‘em, yes,” echoed the goat at the next desk.
Kevin handed the file over.
“Um, thanks, um,” said the newcomer, leaving quickly.
“Lovely chap. I love humans, me,” said Kevin. “What’s for lunch today?”
“Me too, love humans!” The goat perused the menu. “It’s… oh shit, lamb chops.”
“Bastards!” snarled Kevin, grabbing his shotgun and pumping a shell into the chamber. “Death to the murdering human scum!”
“Human scum!” echoed the goat.
Here we are on Thursday with Friday Fictioneers, the prompt for which was posted on Wednesday. Confused? Never mind, because it’s story time, hosted as always by Rochelle.
The photo which prompts our 100-ish word story this week was contributed by Kelly Sands and features big clouds over houses. But are they clouds? ARE THEY? Or are they actually Something More Sinister (dum dum dummmm)? My story this week is a bit nuts, so bear with me.
The other stories this week can be found by clicking on Bracken, the little blue froggy, below.
Here’s the photo of the clouds. OR ARE THEY CLOUDS? etc etc.
It came from Outer Space. NASA had pictures and everything.
One evening in late May it had appeared over the sleepy hamlet of Little Frimpton. The residents took it in their stride, as country folk often do.
“What be that, Jed? Looks loike clouds. But not clouds.”
“That be the underbelly o’ one o’ them giant aliens, Jethro.”
“Oh. ‘Nother ale?”
In June it broke wind, hospitalising several members of the Little Frimpton Knitting Circle during a particularly complicated crochet demonstration. Gas masks were distributed to the villagers.
They could only hope that nothing more solid would follow. Though as one pragmatic farmer noted, “It would be good fer moi fields.”
I was reading one of Cee’s posts and that put me onto a photography challenge, for which I have the perfect photo! I actually published it a couple of weeks ago as part of a set of photos I took while on a walk from my house to the next village.
This week’s topic is “power lines” and is part of Sunday Stills. I took the photo because I thought the power lines looked quite cool from down on the road. You can just make out the warning triangle at the bottom of the pole, telling people to stay clear – “danger of death”!
To read this week’s other contributions, click on Bracken, the blue froggy, below.
Prince Ionus smiled to himself as the little band of adventurers crested the hill and crossed the plain. Excellent, he thought. It has been an age since I made new friends!
He watched as they approached the cave. Their triumphant yells became screams of terror as Medusa, emerging from the darkness, froze their limbs with her terrible gaze. Their screams now echoed only within the depths of his mind.
Ionus projected his thoughts outwards. Calm yourselves, my new friends. Learn to accept your situation. Soon we will exchange stories, but there is no rush. We have from now until eternity!