Sharing My World 2015 Week 5
Every week Cee over at her photography blog poses four questions for us to answer, so without further ado let us begin.
Do you prefer shopping or going to a park?
Hmm, let me think. What a choice! Let’s take a look at a couple of pictures.
Picture (A).
Picture from dailymail.co.uk
Picture (B).
Ah, the agony of choice. I think I’ll go with Picture (B). The park (this is Trelissick Gardens, in Cornwall). I’ll do my shopping online.
If you were a shoe, what kind would you be and why?
What? A shoe? I wouldn’t want to be a shoe at all. If I had to be a shoe, I’d be a really unfashionable rubbish shoe. Then I could sit all warm and dry on the shoe rack and laugh at all the other shoes as they got dragged through puddles and mud and whatnot.
“Ha ha ha, look at you! All covered with puddles and mud and whatnot!” I’d say.
What’s the story behind a time when you got locked out?
A friend and I were in a little town near Stuttgart for a physics conference and we turned up at a tiny guest house. The only person there when we arrived couldn’t speak German (I think he was maybe Greek) so we went away and came back later when we were informed that the doors were locked at midnight.
Off to the pub we went.
We ran back later and arrived at ten to twelve, only to find the doors locked! We ended up going to the proper hotel our boss was staying at with no coats, no luggage and booking a room there (I had my credit card with me).
The conference desk tried to sort it out the next day, but they couldn’t get any sense out of the people at the guest house either (they got the same non-German-speaking person). So they were on our side. And we got to stay in a decent hotel. Hooray!
Do you prefer eating foods with nuts or no nuts?
No nuts for me, thanks! I’m not allergic or anything, I’m just not a big fan. I’ll eat nuts if they’re heavily encased in chocolate :-).
See you again next week!
Red Sky at Night
Red sky in the morning, shepherd’s warning.
Red sky at night, barn on fire at end of village. Form a bucket line.
Paranoid as always, I’ve blanked out my car’s number plate 🙂
The Great Escape
Here is my contribution to Friday Fictioneers. This is a weekly flash fiction challenge hosted by Rochelle in which we write 100-ish words in response to a photo prompt. This week’s photo is of a maze, and was contributed by Melanie Greenwood.
To see the other stories for this week, or to contribute your own, click on the blue froggy.
Copyright Melanie Greenwood
No, no, this looks familiar. I’ve been this way before. I must escape. Getting hungry. Tired. Thirsty. This way. No – dead end. Can’t last much longer. Try down here. No! No way though. Please, somebody, help me. I’m going to die in here. I’ll never see my babies again. Please, somebody…
“This is shit. How long’s it been?”
“Three hours. This is the dumbest mouse ever.”
“Maybe it’s just playing dumb like those mice in that Douglas Adams thing. Maybe it’s a hyper-intelligent pan-dimensional being.”
The scientists peered at it for a moment as it wandered around the maze.
“Nope. It’s a dumbass.”
Click here to read about Douglas Adams’ “mice” (links to Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy Wiki)
Clean Escape
It’s Monday, and therefore time for Mondays Finish the Story, hosted by Barbara Beacham. We get not only a photo but an opening sentence too! We then write our story in around 150 words (not counting the opening sentence).
The supplied sentence is in bold in my story, and to read this week’s other contributions, click on the little blue froggy guy.
Diamond Jack had his hideout next to the Rattle Snake River. Secluded, it was in the perfect location. Diamond Jack turned to his partner in crime.
“I think we got away clean.”
“Reckon we did, Jack,” replied Samson. “That was a close thing.”
Jack nodded and grabbed a beer from the cooler. “Cheers, mate.” Samson reached for his own beer, then froze, listening.
“Jack, you hear that?”
“Shit!” growled Jack, hearing the sound of a vehicle drawing closer. “They found us! How’d they find us?” The pair scrambled around.
“Shut the curtains!” yelled Jack.
“What curtains?” shouted Samson.
Footsteps came closer, closer. The guys jumped behind the table. The door flew open.
“Diamond Jack, you mangy cur!” shrieked a formidable-looking woman. “Come out of there!”
Jack crept out from behind the table.
“If you think I’m putting up with your weird family alone, you’ve got another think coming! Home, NOW! And don’t you stand there sniggering, Samson Beatman! Your wife’s right behind me!”
Sharing My World 2015 Week 4
Here is my post for Share Your World Week 4, hosted by Cee over at her photography blog. Pop over and take a look at her wonderful photos!
Where did you live at age five? Is it the same place or town you live now?
I lived in two (technically three) places at age five. We were living in the little village of Carnon Downs and my parents bought a house in Truro, but it wasn’t quite built yet so we had a rented house in Truro for a few weeks. My brother and I called it “the Little House”.
I’ve lived all over the place since then – South East England, Germany, Ireland, and now I am just a few miles outside of Truro. Back to my roots!
You are invited to a party that will be attended by many fascinating people you never met. Would you attend this party if you were to go by yourself?
I wonder who has described these people as “fascinating”? If these “fascinating” people are going to regale me with stories of the great artists and composers of the past five centuries I think I’ll pass. If, on the other hand, they wish to compare similarities and inconsistencies between various series of Star Trek, I’m in! Because they’ll likely be as socially hopeless as I am.
An original Klingon
Next Gen mutated Klingon
Judging by these pictures, the new Klingons aren’t as happy as the original ones.
Did you grow up in a small or big town? Did you like it?
My “formative” years were spent in Truro, Cornwall’s only city! I guess the population is somewhere around 20,000. So I guess that counts as a small town?
Did I like it? Yeah, it was fine :-). I’ve lived in a few villages, which I prefer. The village I live in now is a couple of thousand I suppose. A new housing estate has just been built so that will swell numbers a bit. We have a pub, a post office and a little shop.
When I first moved in I noticed quiet. I could hear the birds and there was no distant road noise. Also, people passing by wished me “good morning”. I’m happy here :-).
As a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?
Lots of things! Sometimes a spy :-). After watching Wimbledon I wanted to be a tennis player. During the FA Cup I wanted to be a football player (that’s soccer, not American football). After our annual summer trip to visit Granny in Scotland, I wanted to be a train driver.
Obviously I never wanted to work in IT as a kid, since the entire world contained about 2 computers so there weren’t many jobs in that area.
Over the Hill
Here is my contribution to Adam Ickes’ Storybook Corner writing prompt.
This one is 100-250 words, and we get a photo to help us along. My story follows the prompt photo below.
And now on KidzTV, the final ever “Storytime with Millie”.
“Hello boys and girls! Today we’re going to hear the story of ‘The Little Engine that Couldn’t.’
“There once was a little engine, we’ll call her ‘Billie’, who worked ever so hard all her life. She did everything asked of her. But one day, children, the railway staff said she was too old to work anymore! They said that today would be her last day. They thought she was old and ugly and past her best and they shoved her to one side.
“Billie was so upset but the railway staff wouldn’t listen. ‘This is your last ever day,’ they said. All of my, um, Billie’s hard work meant nothing to them.”
(What’s going on? That’s not in the script!
Oh hell, she’s trying to make a point.)
“No matter how much she pleaded, the nasty railway staff told her she was over the hill! They wanted to quietly shove her off into a siding. Can you believe that, children?”
(Do something! Cue up a commercial!)
“’Help me!’ cried Mil… um Billie. ‘All my fans, please, write to the, um, railway staff and save me from the nasty asshats!’”
(Good God, now she‘s swearing. Cut her off, NOW!)
“’This cannot stand!’ she cried. ‘All my life I’ve worked…aargh… get off…”
(Get her!
Ow! She kicked me in the nuts!)
“… save Billie! Save Billie aaargh!”
Beep… Beep… Normal programming will resume shortly.
Cooked
It’s time for some Friday Fictioneers action again, which is hosted by Rochelle. The photo, for which we need to write our 100-ish word story, has been contributed by Ted Strutz.
To read all the other stories or to contribute your own, click on the blue frog.
Copyright Ted Strutz
“Oh, you’ll talk!” grinned Marcos, shoving the extension cord down Jeff’s trousers. He flipped the first switch. Nothing.
“One down, two to go! Where’s the gold?”
Although Jeff’s hands were bound, he managed to flip Marcos the bird. Another switch. Jeff still wasn’t talking.
“Say goodbye to your bits!” laughed Marcos and pushed the final switch. There was a bang, the outlet exploded and Marcos fell twitching to the floor. Jeff set about trying to extricate the cord from his underpants as the thug sparked and smouldered.
“The gold’s in the switch box,” he said. “Don’t try to use it, it’ll probably short out. Heh heh.”
Hunter and Prey
It’s Mondays Finish the Story time. Because its Monday!
This challenge is hosted by Barbara Beecham and involves writing 100 to 150 words in response to a photo. To help us along we also get the starting sentence (which is not part of the word count). Something a bit different this week from me. The supplied starting sentence is in bold in my story below.
To see this week’s other contributions, click on the little blue froggy.
She was unaware that she was being watched.
But everything and everyone is watched. All the time.
The worm, as it goes about its business, is unaware of the bird watching it hungrily, which in turn is oblivious to the hawk above.
The deer has not seen the wolf, stalking it on silent paws. The wolf, intent on its prey, has not seen the hunter staring through the sights of his rifle, already counting the money the wolf’s pelt will bring.
The snow turns red and the hunter claims his prize.
High above, secreted within his cloaked scout ship, Ka’N’Kath watches the hunter through his ship’s optical scanning matrix.
Designation Oltrix 427, local name “Earth”, primitive weapons, multiple natural resources, recommend conquest.
Ka’N’Kath sends the message to High Command, turning his ship towards home, a home he will never again see. For he, in his turn, is being watched.
There is always a bigger fish.
Sharing My World 2015 Week 3
It’s (the end of) week 3 on Cee’s Share Your World challenge. So I’ll jump straight in!
Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?
Anyone? Anyone at all? One sec while I type “supermodels” into Google…
No, seriously I reckon I’d like to meet Ade Edmondson. I first knew him as “Vyvyan”, the punk rocker in “The Young Ones“, the programme I consider to be the first in the “alternative comedy” revolution in the early 80’s. He’s done TV, stage (Rocky Horror Show in the West End), music, all sorts. He’s multi-talented and I’ve also seen him on an art program where celebrities are asked about their favourite art or whatever it was. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy and very clever.
Plus he’s married to Jennifer Saunders so I’d get two comedic geniuses for the price of one!
When did you last sing to yourself? To someone else?
Probably yesterday in the car, though I sometimes quietly sing bits and bobs during the day without really realising it. I only really sing in the car because the music drowns me out. Otherwise my lack of singing ability annoys me.
I tend to “burst into whistle” a lot more often. My pitch is pretty good, whistle-wise.
I won’t do either within earshot of anyone else.
If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?
I really have no idea.
Flying sounds cool. Or the ability to channel the energy of the universe and bend it to my will I SHALL RULE THE WORLD AND ALL SHALL BOW BEFORE ME bwahahahaha.
Oh dear. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a good idea after all. Maybe I’ll go for more confidence instead. That sounds safer.
What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?
More things than I can list here. Poverty, racism, The Holocaust and similar atrocities, the list goes on.
See you again next week!
Evidence
Here is my contribution for this week’s Friday Fictioneers, a weekly flash challenge hosted by Rochelle where we write a 100-ish word story based on a photo. This week’s photo was contributed by Georgia Koch.
For this week’s other contributions, click on the little blue froggy. You can also use this link to add your own story to the mix!
Copyright Georgia Koch
Never one for altruism, Franco’s friends (if it could be said that he had friends) were astonished when he joined “Save Our Barges”. An ex-mobster, charity was never his thing.
He chatted to the great and good, raised funds, worked tirelessly until at last he made it onto the charity’s board… until at last he was granted access to the Betty May.
The charity’s latest restoration project, the Betty May was locked away in dry dock, awaiting much-needed love and a tender touch.
That night the Betty May burnt to charcoal. Some of Franco’s secrets were best left buried.
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Woohoo!
I totally didn't win!
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