Drimericks – Angels
Welcome to my new series – Drali Limericks, or Drimericks! I know it will be a series because I’ve written more than one so far. I’ve rather optimistically categorised this as “Poems” 🙂 . Each one will be accompanied by a beautifully crafted and professionally drawn DraliDoodleTM.
There once was a fellow named Derby
Who went on the rob on his Harley
But he never envisioned
He’d be caught and imprisoned
By Angels and some dude named Charlie.
Picking My Own
My friends from round the corner found out that I’d never been fruit picking, so on Saturday we all trooped off to the nearby Pick Your Own farm to get some strawberries!
Here be strawberries!
There were also some very nice flowers planted along the way.
Here’s the fruits of my labours (pun intended).
Just £1.65!
And here’s the finished article. Very tasty, and enough left over to take some to my mum and dad.
Sharing My World Week 33
It’s time to Share My World again, hosted by Cee at her photography blog. Go check out her wonderful photos!
Do you believe in ghosts?
Ooh, ghosts and ghouls and whatnot! Zombies, liches and other assorted undead (believe in one, you believe in all!).
No.
Regardless of your physical fitness, coordination or agility: If you could play any sport professionally what would it be? Or if you can’t picture yourself playing sports, what is your favourite sport?
I guess it would be badminton. I used to play at university and it’s a lot of fun! You also get a good workout, and it’s not a contact sport, except for the occasional contact with a shuttlecock. You wouldn’t believe how painful a smash shot to the unmentionables can be 😦 .
Do you prefer long hair or short hair for yourself?
Short, but I’m planning on being an ageing hippy, so it might have to “go long” while I still have hair! To help out, I’ve done some artist’s impressions of what I might look like with short, long, punk and no hair.
If you were on an small island, who would you want to be with? And where is it? How big is it?
It would be an island in the sea somewhere. Otherwise it wouldn’t be an island. I’d be on my own, as I have no-one special. Boo hoo.
I would have to make sure that I didn’t have people turning up willy-nilly spoiling my island, so some small security measures would have to be in place. I have helpfully drawn up plans.
Goodbye Summer
Remind me. Here in the Northern Hemisphere it is summer, isn’t it?
Where, then, did it go? Here’s a couple of snaps I took before and after my commute to work a couple of days ago, as proof of the most un-Summer-like temperature.
Here’s the temperature my car reckons it was before my morning commute. I’m inclined to believe it, it was pretty cold. The temperature’s at the top in the middle!
Here’s the time when I arrived at work (top right).
And here’s the temperature. It hasn’t warmed up much 😦
Brr. Please may we have our summer back?
Cowboy Trucking Inc
Unbelievably, it’s Wednesday again and you know what that means, don’t you? Yes, that’s right, it’s time for Friday Fictioneers!
100 or so of us write 100 or so words in response to a photo prompt, which has been contributed this week by Roger Bultot. As always, the talented Rochelle is at the helm.
My story last week was a bit grim, so here’s some mindless dialogue for you. Coincidentally, this ties in quite well with my post yesterday all about driverless cars. In this case, however, instead of having no steering wheel, this little lorry appears to have two of the things! What’s that all about?!
To read this week’s other stories click on the little blue chap below, whom I like to call Bracken.
Copyright Roger Bultot
“What’s with the foliage?”
“It’s decoration.”
“It’s not, though, is it?”
“We drove through a hedge.”
“Huh?”
“At a junction, Bill turned left and I turned right. The lorry went straight on. It’s these stupid dual steering wheels.”
“Any comeback?”
“Nah. Hedge owner was standing right in the way. He won’t be making any complaints. Splat. Har har.”
“Every cloud an’ all that. Clean the lorry up then. I’ve gotta go help out Jeff and Steve.”
“What’s up there?”
“Jeff turned left and Steve turned right. Ended up in the harbour.”
“Any comeback?”
“Nah, harbour master was standing right in the way. Har har.”
“Every cloud an’ all that…”
Home, James
I was reading today how driverless cars are cleared to be on the roads of the UK next year. Yeeks!
The article spoke about the possibility of having a car with no controls, or a car with controls so that the driver can jump in if there’s an emergency. Surely if you’re constantly watching out for problems you might as well be driving?
It also mentioned lorry convoys, where the driver in the first lorry drives and the other lorries follow along behind. Again, these other lorries would have drivers “in case of emergency”, but the article suggested that in the mean time they could perhaps read a book or have lunch.
If they’re reading a book over a nice bit of lunch, how can they take control in an emergency? Many drivers don’t manage to avoid trouble when they’re concentrating, let alone having a nap.
The People Within Without
Here’s my contribution for Adam Icke’s Storybook Corner for July/August.
I think this would probably be better as a “short story” rather than a 500-ish word flash fiction, as I’ve crammed a lot of story in there, but here it is anyway!
Here’s the logo.
And here’s the photo prompt!
“You’ve done it this time!” screamed Saliyah. “You know what this means.” Saliyah’s yells changed to tears as Reliakh took her in his arms, gently stroking her hair.
“That’s enough, Reliakh,” said the uniformed guardsman at the door. “Come with us now, please.”
The “Within”, as the citizens called the huge city, was the last bastion of mankind. After centuries of chemicals, wars and heavy mining the majority of the Earth was a barren wasteland. The Within kept the survivors, some hundreds of thousands, safe within hundreds of interconnected bio-domes. Air was cleaned, food and water recycled to bolster that grown or collected.
Still, resources were limited. The population was strictly controlled. There was no room in Within to feed and keep those who broke the law. Eyes were everywhere, watching, waiting for any indiscretion.
Reliakh had broken the law.
The only punishment – exile Without. From shoplifting to murder, the penalty was the same.
Reliakh had stood in the market and preached to all around – the air Without was safe! The Earth had surely healed by now. Keeping the People Within was just a method of control! Rise up! Rise up! And so he was to be exiled.
Judgment was swift Within and, despite his begging and the tears of his life-mate, an hour later Reliakh was Without, staring across the wasteland. The first surprise – he could breathe. He had been right! He could live Without and return some day, alive and triumphant.
Scattered around were bodies in various states of decay. Other exiles, unwilling to leave the only home they’d ever known, begging for re-admission until they starved to death. Reliakh determined he would survive. He headed off in the direction of some vegetation he could see on the horizon. Vegetation! Further evidence that Without was safe.
After some hours he spotted a low structure and headed towards it. Already he was feeling ill – evidently the air Without was not safe. Fear grew as he realised that maybe he had been wrong after all. Tired, he arrived at the structure and managed to light a small fire by striking small stones against the metal of his Citizen ID band. Night was drawing in, and it would be a cold one. The smoke was drawn up into the tiny structure and out the top, almost as if it had been designed for it. At last he fell asleep.
Drawn by the smoke and the glow from the fire, the People Without had come in the night. They had never eaten so well! Such succulent, tasty meat. Where had it come from? One ripped an arm from the corpse and munched appreciatively, juice running down his face. Another, the leader, looked out across the plains, wiping the last of Reliakh’s brains from his chin and licking his lips. He pointed at the glow on the horizon, emanating from the bio-domes of Within.
More meat would be there.
He raised his arm and as one the thousands of the People Without rose and headed toward their new feeding ground.
Sharing My World Week 32
Every Sunday I participate in Share Your World, hosted by Cee over at her wonderful photography blog.
But wait a minute, I hear you ask, this isn’t Sunday! Why are you doing your Share Your World post on a Thursday?
BECAUSE I CAN bwahahahaha.
Do you prefer ketchup or mustard?
I have to choose? How about ketchup and mustard simultaneously? Both have their place.
Ketchup (or “tomato sauce” as it’s more commonly called round these parts) is good with chips (that’s “fries” if you’re in the US). Of course, so is mustard. If you get those rubbish chips from fast food joints you almost have to have ketchup. If you have proper chips from a good old British fish and chip shop (or van) such condiment is not required! Just a bit of salt and vinegar.
Currently though, I have no tomato sauce in my cupboard/fridge. Just mayonnaise, Branston pickle, chilli pickle, Dijon mustard, hot dog mustard, barbecue sauce, HP brown sauce, Worcester sauce, vinegar, lemon juice, Tabasco sauce and extra hot Tabasco sauce.
Anyone would think I don’t like the taste of food.
“Food is but a delivery mechanism for the condiment.” (draliman, 2014)
This is all I have in. I hope it will do.
I’m not sure I actually answered the question.
If someone made a movie of your life would it be a drama, a comedy, a romantic-comedy, action film, or science fiction?
It would be a story of betrayal, betrayal by the people I trusted above all else. Of a love lost, of danger, espionage and car chases. Oh sorry. My life? Not Jason Bourne’s life?
Okay then, it would be a massive box office flop. Floppity floppity flop. There’d be a normal childhood, then an unfortunate amount of booze, a dodgy bit in the middle which I don’t remember very well (thankfully) and then me now.
Yaaawn.
Let’s stick with Jason Bourne.
If you could be given any gift what would it be?
Wow, anything? The gift of happiness? The gift of health and long life? Dare I dream, the gift of love? Tell you what, just give me a shed load of cash.
‘Cos I’m shallow like that.
For potlucks or parties do you cook it yourself, buy from a grocery store, or pay for catering?
Me, cook? Are you mad?
Actually, I’ve been wondering about trying to make some little savoury appetisers. That’s still at the dream stage, though.
I would pop down the shops and buy something like sausage rolls, and if it’s pot luck I’d buy a little dessert thing as well because I’d be worried that everyone would bring sausage rolls. I worry about things like that.
See you all again next week, probably on a Sunday!
Childhood’s End
It’s Friday Fictioneers time! Ably hosted by Rochelle, a hundred or so flash fiction writers submit a story of roughly a hundred words. This week’s photo was provided by Jan Wayne Fields. This one led to a huge blank until my mind wandered down a path I rather wish it hadn’t. After much thought I’ve decided to publish it anyway.
To view the other stories for this week click on Bracken, the little blue chap below. More stories are added through the week so be sure to check back!
Copyright Jan Wayne Fields
The bureau desk had seen heavy use over the decades. Polished countless times by loving hands, its oak finish still gleamed in the light filtering through the bedroom blinds.
Fathers had balanced the bills at that desk. Mothers had written poems and children had penned journals. Down through the generations the bureau had been treated with love and care, a permanent fixture of the old house.
Now the varnish reflected blue flashing lights, the blood dribbling down the carved sides a grisly new addition, courtesy of a messy custody battle.
If he couldn’t have the kids, the husband had figured, no-one could.
Sharing My World Week 31
It’s hard to believe it but it’s already time for another Share Your World, hosted by Cee over at her photography blog.
If you had your own talk show, who would your first three guests be? (guest can be dead, alive, famous or someone you just know)
Wow, tricky one. There are so many people to invite, especially since I can have dead people as well. I assume they won’t be dead when they arrive on my show, because that would be gross.
I’ll invite on authors Terry Pratchett and Douglas Adams. That’s right, we’re having a comedy author smack-down! They went head to head over in the Fishbowl and Adams got the top slot, so this is a rematch.
Obviously this could get a bit ugly, so the third guest would be Jerry Springer. It’s not actually him I want, but he comes with bouncers and I might need them.
What can you always be found with?
My mobile phone. Obvious answer, I know, but it’s true. Camera, torch, calculator, navigation etc etc all in one. I hear that in a pinch it can also be used to make phone calls.
What is the most fun thing you did in school?
I don’t usually think of the words “fun” and “school” together. The most fun I had at school was leaving.
We did go on a weekend trip to London when I was in the first year (which is now called “year eleven” or “year twelve” or something) of secondary school. That was a laugh. A friend and I got lost in Harrods and we nearly missed the train home when another pupil wandered off to buy a newspaper. We visited some museums and stuff as well 🙂
It was on this trip that I made friends with a guy who turned out to be a childhood friend back from when we were babies (our fathers used to work together). He now lives round the corner from me and I’m Godfather to his youngest.
What’s something you know you do differently than most people?
I’ve been thinking about this through the week but I can’t think of anything that I do differently to other people. Maybe leave the house? I check and double check all the doors, windows and power points and then check them again if I don’t get out the house fast enough.
Now I sound like a crazy person.
See you again next week!
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