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Over Exposure
I had trouble with Friday Fictioneers this week and I had trouble with this story too! Do you ever get weeks when the story just won’t come?
This photo comes from Pixabay.
Picture from Pixabay.com
“So, what do you think?”
“It’s rubbish. It’s set all wrong. I can see right through you. All I see is bones.”
“Perfect. The perfect diagnostic tool.”
“I wanted to see you in your underwear! This is no good.”
“Pig. Is that all you think about? This will help thousands in hospitals everywhere.”
“If you adjust it to see people naked, instead of selling it to a few hundred desperate hospitals you’ll sell it to three billion horny men.”
“I’m warning you…”
“Come on, Suzie…”
“Dr Chapman!”
“Whatever, come on, I wanna see you with no clothes on. Twiddle the settings.”
“Right, you sexist moron, that’s it…”
Two days later…
“… and as you can see, ladies and gentlemen, even without an autopsy my Diagnosticon (patent pending) allows you to see that a scalpel penetrated the kidney area, proving that he accidentally stabbed himself in the back while delivering sexist comments…”
Friday Fictioneers – Going Green?
Here is my little story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. The photo this week was contributed by Melanie Greenwood.
You’d have thought a picture with a plane in it would have instantly forced any number of stories into my head, but no! Finally, I came up with this one.
To read this week’s other stories, click on the little blue froggy.
Copyright Melanie Greenwood
“Ah, the sleek lines, the beautiful curves… one’s aeroplane is not bad either!”
“Oh, Tarquin, you’re making me blush.”
“Come, darling Genevieve, let us board our jet.”
“Indeed, light of my life. Are the Farquharson-Smythes also attending?”
“Why of course, my scrumptious sweetmeat, that’s their aircraft just leaving the runway.”
“Super. I say, you there, watch what you’re doing with the luggage! That’s genuine snow tiger pelt! You can’t get the staff.”
“True, my love. Come, we must away! The ‘Rich Hypocrites Save Our Beautiful Green Planet Benefit’ waits for no man. Fly, Jeeves, and don’t spare the jet fuel!”
FFftPP – A New Job
Here is my contribution to Roger’s first ever “Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner” challenge. The rules, in brief:
- Up to 200 words
- A beginning, middle and end (no serial stories)
- A photo and (optional) opening sentence are provided
- Content to be PG-13. It will be a new challenge not to include any hideous deaths in my writing 🙂
The supplied sentence is in italics in my story.
Click on the blue froggy for the other entries!
Image public domain free stock photo
Of all the places I thought I would end up on New Year’s Eve I can’t believe it’s here. I used to be somebody. I used to be a contender. Last New Year’s Eve I was in a boxing gym. I saw the greats. I was punched by pretty much anybody who was somebody.
Okay, so I’m a bunch of processed petrochemicals. I don’t get a choice of career.
But the boxing gym… Oh, the joy as a gloved fist smacked me hard. Those people knew how to live!
Whap – boing! – whap – boing!
Life doesn’t get any better than that.
And now I’ve been recycled as a bowling pin. I still get smacked in the face, but it’s not so personal any more, you know? Just a ball rolled down an aisle. There’s no finesse. No “up close and personal”. Trashed by a random unknown at long range. Oh, the dents I’ve suffered. The indignity of it all!
Here comes another one. It’s swerving, it going to miss me, it’s just gonna clip the edge… ouch! Tough luck, Chester, my fellow pin-at-arms. That had to hurt! Hey! No strike this time, loser. Loooserrrrr!
Friday Fictioneers – Backwards
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, the weekly flash fiction challenge hosted by Rochelle. The photo was provided by Jean L Hays. It’s apparently another rerun, but before my time!
If you look closely, everything outside the window is the wrong way round! I’m still trying to get my brain to work out the specifics of it all :-(.
To read the other stories, click on the blue froggy.
Copyright Jean L. Hays
“Open your eyes and take a look outside.”
“Everything’s… backwards! You weren’t kidding. The 708 Fulton really is a dimensional transport vehicle! Who’d’a thunk it?”
“Indeed! How old do you think I am?
“Um… thirty-five, thirty-six maybe?”
“Three hundred and five.”
“Wha…”
“Time travels backwards here. For every year I spend in our world, I spend a year here… getting younger! The net effect? I never age!”
“Woah… really?!”
“No, not really! Man, you’re so gullible! I positioned a mirror while your eyes were closed.”
“Whaaa… grrrrrr!”
“?eeffoc fo puC. eeh eeH”
“!ylevoL”
FFfAW – Countdown
I thought I’d have my first go at Priceless Joy’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. This involves a photo (this week contributed by Sonya) and 100-150 words (+/-25).
I immediately saw an Apollo landing thingumy when I saw this picture :-). Click on the blue froggy to read the other stories.
Copyright Sonya from “Only 100 Words”
“What the Hell sort of landing was that? We were supposed to splash down in the sea!”
“I’m guessing we didn’t. Millions of miles of ocean and we missed. Maybe restarting the Apollo missions was a bad idea.”
“Well, we’re back home and safe! The three heroes. Any landing you can walk away from, and all that…”
“We’re safe. Lieutenant Wilkins wasn’t so lucky.”
“Why, what’s wrong with him?”
“Scoot round and take a look. His acceleration couch failed.”
“Woah, nasty. That’s just wrong. I’m not cleaning that up. And then there were two…”
“Well, best disembark, I suppose. Just get out of these straps…”
“Careful you don’t slip on Wilkins on the way out.”
“Urgh! Just open the door here… half a million miles and now we’re home… ahhhhhh!” (splat)
“Wow, how’d we end up all the way up here? And then there was one…”
Friday Fictioneers – Christmas Cat Goes Clubbing
Here is my contribution to Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Scott L. Vannatter. That looks a lot like a driving licence in front of the cat, I wonder what he’s up to…?
To read the other stories for this week, click on the blue froggy. And have a wonderful Christmas everyone :-).
Copyright Scott L. Vannatter
Meow. Let’s see, that’s my fake ID ready. Name: “Pussy Willow”. Date of birth: “27/01/2012”. That should get me in.
I hear all the clubs are full of the cutest kitty cats at Christmas-time (whatever that is – all I know is at this time of year there’s loads of paper and boxes to play with).
Do I have everything? ID… check. Catnip… check. Have to hide that somewhere the bouncers won’t find it.
I’m gonna get some action tonight. Meeeeeow!
Have fun everyone, but drink your milk responsibly and take it easy with the catnip. Merry Christmas (whatever that is)!
Friday Fictioneers – Scorched Earth
Here is this week’s tale for Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers. Rochelle also provided this week’s photo. To read the other stories, click on the blue froggy.
Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
“How could this have happened? How could they not have noticed?”
“Maybe it’s hard to notice tiny amounts of chemicals building up in the atmosphere.”
“Until they catch fire and burn the Earth.”
“Yes. Until then.”
“How long do we have, do you think?”
“See that glow? That’s London burning. An hour, maybe?”
“I bet it’s an amazing sight from the space station.”
“I bet it is. The whole world on fire. It’ll burn until the oxygen runs out.”
“So this is the end.”
“For us. The world will recover. Nature always finds a way.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Friday Fictioneers – The Beginning of the End
Here is my tale for this week’s Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. The photo this week was contributed by Luther Silar.
To read the other stories, click on the blue froggy.
Copyright Luther Silar
“Waaaaa! Waaaaa! Uncle Jeremy shot Flapper! Waaaaaa!”
“What the hell did you do, Jerry?”
“I thought that the Christmas turkey had escaped.”
“IT’S YELLOW!”
“Big Bird’s yellow.”
“Big Bird’s not real! Turkey’s aren’t yellow!”
“What is it then?”
“It is… was a ‘Flapper Enhanced Robotic Companion’. Look at Timmy’s little face. You’ve shot his present. You’ve ruined Christmas.”
“Robots? Huh. Good job I shot it, then. It’s the Rise of the Machines. What’s this, now?”
I am Robbie, your helpful Kitchen Companion. You have murdered Flapper. Therefore I will now terminate you.
“See? Told ya.”
Literary Lion – Vera Versus Las Vegas
Here is my post for Laura’s Literary Lion. The prompt word this time is “gamble” and I’ve managed to get it just under the 400 word limit. Which is quite long, but don’t worry, it’s all dialogue!
This is Vera’s third adventure. Vera is a rather doddery old lady from “up North” (of England) who manages to get herself into all sorts of situations but always manages to extricate herself while remaining largely oblivious to the danger she’s in. Her other adventures are Vera Versus the Devil and Vera Versus the Muggers. This time, she’s off on a jolly to Las Vegas, America.
“Eee, look at this place, I think I’ll try the slots…”
Push. Shove.
“… eh, me money ain’t goin’ in…”
Shove. Bang.
“Excuse me Madam, what seems to be the trouble?”
“… ooh, you’re a strapping young lad, jus’ like me friend Ethel’s boy, do ya know ‘im, ‘e’s ‘bout your age, me money won’t go in the machine….”
“Ah, that’s English coinage, Madam, you’ll…”
“… if me money’s good enough fer the Queen (bless ‘er) it’s good enough fer me…”
“You’re in America, now Madam, so you…”
“… when I were a lass, all this were the British Empire…”
“Ha ha, Madam, very funny, now if I could ask you to…”
“… don’t you laugh at me, young man, me cousin Beryl’s youngest daughter’s hairdresser’s second cousin’s granny once stood this close to the Queen this close she’s prac’ly royalty so don’t you laugh at me…”
“I do apologise Madam (security to the slots, security to the slots), if you could just calm down a little…”
“…don’t you tell me to calm down, no respect fer yer elders your generation…”
“FREEZE! Don’t move!”
“… eee, who’s this now, waving yer gun around, what you need is a nice calming cup ‘a tea, now where did I put me flask, here in me handbag…”
“GUN!”
Blam. Ping!
“… eh, will you look at that, you’ve punctured me flask, that’s lovely Yorkshire tea all goin’ ta waste, all the way from England too…”
“Shit, I thought you were reaching for a gun…”
“… it’s just not good enough, does your mamma know you’re running round with a gun…”
“I’m so sorr…”
“… it would never have happened in my day, the youth today, no respect…”
“Madam, please…”
“… shooting people left right and centre, shouldn’t be allowed..”
“Oh God…”
“… there ought ta be a law, shooting little old ladies indeed, I never saw the like…”
“Excuse me, Madam, I’m the manager and as an apology, and on the understanding you never mention this little… incident again, we would like to offer you a thousand dollars worth of chips…”
“… ooh, I could just go some fish ‘n chips right now, that sounds lovely with a nice cup ‘o tea, lead on, did I tell you about me grandchildren, look, here’s a picture, ooh, there’s a bullet hole in it ramble ramble mutter mutter…”
Friday Fictioneers – Cosmic Toilet
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. The photo this week was contributed by Roger Bultot.
I’ve gone for a silly, rather juvenile story this week. If you’re not familiar with “Dr Who”, all you need to know is that he travels through time in a TARDIS which is stuck looking like an old police box since its chameleon circuit jammed, and it’s bigger on the inside than the outside.
Click on the blue froggy to see this week’s other stories.
Copyright Roger Bultot
“Wow, look, that could be the TARDIS. Like off Dr Who!”
“It’s a portable toilet.”
“No, let’s go inside to see if he’s in there!”
“Who?”
“The Doctor, of course!”
“It’s a portable toilet.”
“Hmm, it is a bit of a tight squeeze. And very dark.”
“That’s because it’s a portable toilet. Hey, what’s that noise?”
“I thought since we’re in a portable toilet I’d offload that curry I had last night.”
“Oh my God. Let me out!”
“Aaaahhhh, that’s better. Hey, the door’s opening. Oy, occupied!”
Creeeaaak.
“What the Hell are you two doing in my TARDIS? And what is that smell?”
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