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Friday Fictioneers – Her Broken Heart
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s picture was contributed by Marie Gail Stratford.
To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy.
Copyright Marie Gail Stratford
Sitting slumped at the desk, she looked across at the easy chairs. The one on the left had been his. Empty now. Empty as her broken heart.
He was gone. Gone forever. Her love, her life, her everything.
Wiping a tear from her eye, she grabbed the mouse – his silly, ziggy-zaggy, beautiful mouse (that thought brought a lump to her throat) – and began searching. Chainsaw hire, mini-diggers, concreting and patio services…
If her wonderful, beautiful, perfect Barry and slutty Sally from Accounts Payable enjoyed each other so much, they could bloody well spend eternity in the same hole.
MFTS – The Unexpected House
Here is my story for Barbara Beacham’s Mondays Finish the Story. We get a photo and an opening sentence, which is in bold in my story. To read all the other contributions, click on the blue froggy.
I’m not sure what my story is supposed to be. Horror? Comedy? Comedy horror? It made me laugh :-).
Copyright B. W. Beacham
The A&B Building was made entirely from driftwood. But no-one in the sleepy town of Little Stickle would ever know the hideous truth. The sudden appearance of the building one morning had been quite a surprise!
The residents were cautiously excited.
The construction crew had horrible, blood-spattered flashbacks.
The police were baffled.
Also in the news that morning was the strange disappearance of a visiting 100-piece Country and Western ensemble. The townsfolk loved their Country and Western, and almost all had turned up to listen. What a disappointment they were!
The residents had booed.
The construction crew had thrown bottles and gotten terribly, terribly drunk.
The police had shaken their heads.
In the morning, there the new house was.
The residents wondered why it smelled faintly of dead animal.
The construction crew wondered what the sticky red substance on their tools was.
The police wondered what had happened to the rubbish Country and Western band “Driftwood”.
Sharing My World 2015 Week 38
It’s time for another Share Your World, hosted by Cee!
What do you do to make a living or during the day if you are retired. If you are a student what are you studying?
I work in IT for a small internet-based company. I write code, review other people’s code, help other people write code, test code, put code live, look after servers, look after databases, provide support…
Have you ever participated in a distance walking, swimming, running, or biking event? Tell your story.
No. Doing so would place unnecessary strain on our National Health Service :-).
What is usually your first thought when you wake up?
Weekend/Public Holiday/Annual Leave: “Yay! Let’s get this day started! Oh, the possibilities!”
Work day: “Ugh. Morning already? Ugh. How can it be morning already? I only just went to bed. Ugh.”
Complete this sentence: Look out behind you, it’s a…
…monkey.
How great would that be? Monkeys are cool. They even have a cute name. Monkey. Hee hee :-).
Literary Lion – After The Fall
Here is my post for Laura’s fortnightly “Literary Lion” challenge. We get 400 words to write a story relating to a prompt word, which this fortnight is “fall“. Sorry there’s no photo :-(.
Dravik shook his head vigorously.
“No, Crannik! Don’t go out there, it’s dangerous!”
Crannik sighed. He’d heard the stories, told to naughty children right before bedtime. How a rebellious faction of Inlanders had been exiled beyond the Wall. How they were supposedly there still (or at least their descendants, Crannik supposed). All this had happened a long, long time ago, if it had happened at all, and personally Crannik had his doubts about that.
“The Fallen – doomed to life in the Beyond, to eke out a wretched existence, to die in misery for their crimes.” That was how the story, and Crannik was convinced it was just a story, ended. There was some evidence that The Fall was in fact real, but Crannik suspected it had been a minor uprising rather than the hideous deeds of a cannibalistic faction.
“Come on, Dravik,” he urged, “it’ll be fun! Think of the adventure!”
Dravik just shook his head and walked away. Crannik laughed and set out, reaching the boundary of Inland in good time. He’d found the hole in the Wall many weeks earlier and quickly slipped through, walking away from the familiar, deep into the Beyond.
He walked for hours and as darkness fell, he made camp. He huddled closer to the fire as unfamiliar sounds came from the forest around him. He was willing to admit, this was pretty creepy. A night bird, insects… a snapping twig… breathing? Crannik leaped up and ran, crashing through the undergrowth, sobbing with fear. He could clearly hear something following him, and now… in front of him! He slid to a halt as a shadowy figure appeared from behind a tree. He fell to the ground, breathless, shaking. The figure came closer, closer…
“Ha!” laughed Dravik. “So you don’t believe in The Fallen, huh? Certainly ran fast enough, didn’t you! I’ve been tracking you all day!”
“You little…” Crannik’s sigh of relief became a gasp of horror as he saw Dravik’s eyes widen in shock. His friend clutched at the metal-tipped shaft protruding from his chest, blood trickling from his mouth. He slumped to the ground.
“You damaged the meat, fool!” snapped a harsh voice from the darkness.
“Be silent!” barked another. “We’ll eat him first, and put the other in the larder!”
Crannik clawed himself to his feet and ran.
Brrr – It’s Cold!
It’s only just Autumn, and look at the temperature when I stopped for petrol at 0710 this morning. Even the frost warning light came on! Yeeks :-(. (Google tells me that’s 39F.)
Sunrise at Work
I took a couple of photos of yesterday’s sunrise! I only had my phone camera because I was arriving at work and it’s made the sun look like a huge explosion away in the distance :-). I should probably post-process it but I don’t have Photoshop. And I can’t be bothered.
Friday Fictioneers – To Any Lengths
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, the weekly flash fiction challenge hosted by Rochelle. The photo this week was contributed by The Reclining Gentleman. My genre for this week is “craziness!” :-).
To read this week’s other stories click on the blue froggy.
Copyright The Reclining Gentleman
Jedd increased speed as his pursuer swerved around another vehicle. Terrified, he threw caution to the winds, flooring the accelerator.
Who could want him so badly?
So preoccupied was he that he missed the brake lights ahead. At the last second, screaming, he swerved into the crash barrier. Legs crushed, terrified, helpless, he saw a shadowy figure approach. It rapped on the side window, which promptly shattered. He saw the face of… his dear old mum!
“Sorry about that, dearie. You forgot your packed lunch!” she said brightly, handing him his sandwiches before roaring off again. Jedd began to cry.
Photo Challenge – Grid
I noticed that this week’s Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge has the subject “Grid” this week and realised I have just the photo!
This photo was taken inside St. Michael’s Mount, looking out through a window.
MFTS – Proud to be Different
Here is my story for Barbara Beacham’s Mondays Finish the Story. We get a photo and an opening sentence to write 100-150 words. The supplied sentence is in bold in my story.
To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy.
Copyright B.W. Beacham
She lived in a mango tree. She was shunned for it. Others turned their noses up, crossed the street when they saw her coming.
She’d known she was different from an early age. She didn’t feel she belonged. Nothing seemed quite… right.
It hadn’t always been this way, of course. When she was little she’d lived with her parents in an apple tree, just like everyone else. But when she came of age, she’d found herself a nice mango tree to call her own.
During the Great Apple Blight of 1973, people came from all around. They were happy for her mangoes then, oh yes. But once the blight passed they went right back to spurning her.
Every year she participated in the Mango Pride March. Times were changing, every year there were more marching with her. One day apple and mango-dwellers would stand together. But until then, she was proud to be different.
St. Michael’s Mount Part 3
We’re nearing the end of our journey around St. Michael’s Mount. Here are my final photos! I uploaded them full size again because I can’t be bothered fiddling about :-).
A bit more impressive than my mantelpiece.
Back outside, but still up on the Mount.
A view down to the gardens, which unfortunately were closed on the day I visited. It looks like they’re doing some work down there.
A lovely view out across to Marazion.
The little ferry boats are still running but it looks like the tide has gone out and the causeway is open!
A final look out across the bay. I wouldn’t want to brave those cannons if I were invading.
Yep, the causeway is open. I get to walk back.
View from the causeway.
A final look back. Goodbye, St. Michael’s Mount!
I hope you enjoyed my little 3 part tour around St. Michael’s Mount!
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I totally didn't win!
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