Archive
FF – Feeding the Flames
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by J Hardy Carroll.
Here’s a dark and chilling story with a bit of a giggle thrown in. Can anyone guess which book/film my desperate inspiration for this came from? Probably 🙂

Copyright J Hardy Carroll
Head Fire Officer Drochnik laughed as he ordered his crews to turn their hoses on the buildings. Scum! How dare they? The State gave them everything, and still they rebelled. He breathed in the heady scent as the buildings were doused with petrol.
Doors flew open and screaming peasants ran for safety, dripping the flammable liquid behind them. Many carried their contraband, desperate to save what they could. Bags of Mars Bars, boxes of Curly Wurlies, crates of Snickers and there – what was that one carrying? A basket of Twinkies? Disgusting filth!
Drochnik lit the match, ending their wretched existence.

Pegman – It’s Good to be Home
Here is my little story for What Pegman Saw. This week the little Pegman is wandering around Athens, Greece.

Copyright Dylan Watson for Google Maps
“My home, my beautiful home! Ruined!“ Athena looked around. She was not happy.
“Hey, kiddo,” came a familiar voice. “Long time.”
“Daddy!” Athena squealed. “I was taking a nap. What’s happening? Why are you dressed like that?”
“I have a job!” explained Zeus. “Electrician. Suited to it, I thought. The humans neither need nor want us any longer. So we’re making do.”
“But what of the others? Poseidon?”
“Fisherman.”
“Hephaestus?”
“Blacksmith.”
“Surely not Uncle Hades too?”
“He’s had various jobs. Lawyer. Politician. Reality Show producer. He’s decided it’s much more fun tormenting humans while they’re still alive.”
“Oh dear. Maybe if I’d got up when I first woke I could have stopped this, but I dropped off again. I wanted one more millennium in bed. What should I do?”
“’Strategic warfare’ is one of yours, yes?”
“Surely by now humans have abolished war?”
“Ha! Prepare to be very busy, my girl.”
FF – Can we go to Bloomingdales?
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Marie Gail Stratford.

Copyright Marie Gail Stratford
“Can we go to Bloomingdales, Daddy, can we can we caaaaan weeeee?”
“Ooh,” chipped in her brother, “how about ‘Wrigley Field’? Is that where the chewing gum is made?”
“No, son!” laughed Dad. “That’s where they play ‘the baseballs’. Why don’t we try the zoo?”
“Yes, please!” chorused the kids.
Mum left the group, walking from the holographic image suite to look out of a window at the Earth, far below. Was that a small patch of green or just her imagination? Was the planet recovering, sooner than predicted?
Maybe the kids, or their kids, would live to see Chicago for real.
Pegman – Dark Days
Here is my story for What Pegman Saw, which this week sees us in Cordoba, Argentina.
I’m not sure what my story is this week. Is it post-apocalyptic? Dark almost-but-not-quite-humour? A damning indictment of the “haves” and the “have nots”? Bittersweet or just plain bitter? Nooobody knoooows.

Copyright Google
Juan gazed across the city at the skyscrapers. Every city had them – bastions of so-called civilisation amidst the ruins. The global drought and subsequent world-wide economic collapse had devastated the world. It hadn’t rained for three years.
Those few had the money to dig deep wells, desalinate water, grow crops. Not for the likes of him, of course. They didn’t have to drink boiled urine. They didn’t have to eat rat, though even the rats were dying out. That chap from down the street was starting to look pretty tasty.
He could leave the city, but Cordoba was his home. He’d been born here, and he’d die here. Probably fairly soon.
No – he mustn’t think like that. There was life, therefore there was hope! Feeling cheered, he ran across the road, chasing a feral cat.
He never saw the truck. Never felt the first drops of rain begin to fall.
FF – Kidz
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This weeks’ photo was contributed by Sarah Ann Hall.
(For non-UK persons, a “GCSE” is an exam taken at age 16.)
This might be a bit hard to read but I find some kids a bit hard to understand so there you go. Authenticity.

Copyright Sarah Ann Hall
“I wanna makes an impression in da interview so I smashes dis vase an I’s like coz dis one’s fake innit coz I has GCSE Art wot I almost passed an I sees from der faces it woz like a real one…”
Sigh.
“… an I’s like whatevs an dey’s like get out an I’s like talk to da hand an dey’s like priceless Ming an I’s like wot like in Flash Gordon an den dey frew me out.”
“So, you didn’t get the job, then, dear?”
“Nah. An I need an advance on ma pocket money coz dey sending me da bill innit.”
Sigh.
Pegman – Prison in Paradise
Here is my story for What Pegman Saw which this week takes us to the former penal colony of Norfolk Island.
My story is really quite silly and I’m sure Norfolk Island was never dubbed “Prison in Paradise”. I’m also sure that life for the prisoners was actually very harsh. In fact it was apparently more “hell on Earth”, but it looks pretty and so this is fiction fusion 🙂
In fact, it’s so silly it’s almost surreal but I can’t think of a proper story right now.

Copyright Mark Harvey on Google Maps
“Stabber” McGee and “Destroyer” Davis ducked behind a hedge. Although Norfolk Island had been dubbed “Prison in Paradise”, escape was paramount. McGee wiped caviar from his lips.
“Glad we stayed for lunch.”
“Yeah,” replied Davis. “I thought the lobster was a bit over-cooked, though.”
The chums proceeded towards freedom, creeping on silent feet past the heated pool. The guards were out in force, most watching the Prisoners’ All-Block Diving Competition. McGee barely suppressed a cheer as Mike “Murder-Spree” Mullins executed a perfect one-and-a-half somersault with triple twist.
The beach was in sight (just past the lawn tennis courts) when Davis, unable to contain himself, yelled, “Well played, Sir, well played!” as Hank “Hatchet-Man” Havershall delivered a blistering forehand smash.
Their escape foiled, Davis lost his cell with a view while McGee had his hot stone massage privileges revoked. Disappointed, they consoled themselves with a nice game of croquet.
FF – Beauty is Skin Deep
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. The photo comes from Roger Bultot.

Copyright Roger Bultot
Dre’gar viewed the scene before him through his suit’s plexiglass visor. Beautiful. Oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere. Water. This would make an excellent planet. Once the indigenous life – human – was extinguished, of course.
He raised his visor, savoured real air and began typing his recommendation for invasion.
Then hacked. Coughed. Vomited. And dropped dead. His body liquefied and oozed out of his suit.
Belatedly, his bargain-basement toxicity sensor began to beep.
Toxins detected! Carbon monoxide. Lead. Nitrous oxide. Sulphur dioxide. Lethal levels. DO NOT REMOVE HELMET!
His scout ship, receiving the information, dropped a plague beacon in orbit and left. Never to return.







