Sharing My World 2016 Week 6
Here is my post for Cee’s Share Your World. There are lots of questions this week! They were suggested by The Happy Quitter.
Happy Valentine’s Day to everyone, and happy 13th AA birthday to me :-).
What is your favourite word?
“Douchecanoe”. That’s a good word, even though it’s not really a word (though weirdly Chrome thinks it is). “Awesomesauce”. “Nincompoop”. That’s a good word too, because there’s no aggression or rancour to it.
What is your least favourite word?
“Housework”. Or maybe it’s just the idea behind that word which I don’t like.
What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?
Oh gosh, these are toughies this week. Lovely nature scenes (in real life) I guess.
What turns you off?
Dog pooh. Seeing dog pooh. Smelling dog pooh. Treading in dog pooh. Pretty much everything dog pooh-related, you might say.
What is your favourite curse word?
“Gosh darn it!” (said no-one ever). Because I’m a proper gentleman. I don’t swear, that would be a naughty, naughty… oh fuck it, it’s “shit”. And “fuck”.
What sound or noise do you love?
The gurgling of water.
What sound or noise do you hate?
Vacuum cleaners. Lawn mowers. Drills. I hate any sort of loud, persistent noise. In fact, I think I may be allergic so it’s probably best that I don’t do any of those activities. And while I’m at it, the sounds of dusting and washing the car and organising my paper work. I’m allergic to those noises too. Honest, guv’.
What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
International jet-setting playboy. I reckon I’d be good at that.
What profession would you not like to do?
Sanitary engineer. Dog pooh picker-upper. Call centre operative. Door-to-door salesman (do they still exist?). Anything involving talking to people.
If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
“This is terribly embarrassing, but the Pearly Gates are jammed after Angel Gabriel crashed into them in his AngelMobile. Pop back down to Earth and have another go while we get them sorted, there’s a good chap. You can be an international jet-setting playboy this time, if you’d like.”
FFfAW – Punishment
Here is my story for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, hosted by Priceless Joy. It has a similar theme to a Friday Fictioneers story I wrote a couple of weeks ago, sorry about that.
Click on the blue froggy to see this week’s other stories.
Copyright Ady
Simon Watson yelled as he went sailing across the playground to land in an unceremonious heap on the hard ground, his books scattered around him. Billy Masters’ growl of delight was cut off by an angry adult voice.
“Billy Masters! Stop right there! What have you been told about fighting? Go and sit on the red bench. Well? Go on!”
Billy went and sat on the red bench. The “punishment” bench. He was used to it. He ended up here most break-times. Finally the bell for classes went – freedom!
Simon worked hard, made the most of his education. Billy went from detention to young offenders to…
“The court will rise.”
“Mr Masters, for this crime, there can be only one punishment. You will spend the rest of your life in prison. Take him down.”
Judge Simon Watson shook his head sadly as Billy was led past. “Back on the red bench, Billy. This time it’s for good. No bell this time. Sorry.”
FF – This Land (is) Mine
Here is my story for this week’s Friday Fictioneers, hosted as always by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by The Reclining Gentleman.
The photo is quite a lovely scene, therefore my story will not be bwahaha :-).
To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy.
Copyright The Reclining Gentleman
Albert finished planting the last flower and stood up gingerly, his old bones making the task a chore. He shook his head angrily.
Thirty-seven years he’d worked this allotment, his little patch of England. Now it was destined for pointless “luxury housing”, but who was going to listen to a sickly old man, even one who’d fought for King and Country in Belgium and France?
He tottered away as quickly as he could. He could hear the bulldozers approaching and wanted to be far away when they encountered his war “mementos”, carefully buried and primed under the flower bed.
Sharing My World 2016 Week 5
Here is my post for Cee’s Share Your World.
If you had a shelf for your three most special possessions (not including photos, electronic devices and things stored on them, people or animals), what would you put on it?
Special possessions that are not electronic devices? That makes it tricky.
There’s my Granny’s gong and candlesticks I requested when she passed away, now on my mantelpiece.
From Granny’s house
There are some Dr Who bits and bobs. Dr Who stuff is spread across multiple shelves.
And of course, “the lads”.
If you had a box labelled ‘happiness’, what would you put in it?
Memories of happy times. Or rather, copies of memories of happy times. As a backup in case I need to restart my head.
What do you want more of in your life?
Keep… it… clean… must… keep… it… clean… gnnnnnnn… Star Wars Lego. Phew, I did it!
Daily Life List: What do you do on an average day? Make a list of your usual activities you do each day.
On average, I’ll be at work, so…
- Wake up (0550)
- Complain a lot
- Have a coffee
- Make lunch and place in Dr Who Dalek lunch box
- Get ready for work
- Go to work (around 0655)
- Arrive at work (around 0720)
- Work
- Leave work (1700)
- Watch DVD/Netflix while having tea
- Watch more Netflix/Amazon Prime/play some PS4/do some blogging
- Go to bed (around 2200)
- Read for a bit and go to sleep
Thrilling stuff! And if you’re a nasty thief hoping to use this itinerary to rob my stuff, please remember to smile for the cloud-connected motion-sensitive infra-red security cameras.
FFftPP – Oh Deer
Here is my (very short!) story for Roger’s Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. The optional opening sentence is “Are you lookin’ at me?”, and you can read all the other stories by clicking on the blue froggy. The image is from the public domain archive.
Image public domain
Are you lookin’ at me?
“What did you say?”
“Eh? Nothing.”
Or chewin’ a brick?
“What was that?”
“Huh? I didn’t say anything…”
Either way you’ll lose your teeth.
“Right, that’s it! Take that!”
BOP!
“Ow! By dose. You broke by dose!”
Heh heh. Who said being shot, decapitated and mounted on a wall wasn’t going to be any fun. Ah, here comes another pair of likely victims.
“Oh look, what a darling room! All these old things.”
“Yes, it is rather snug.”
Are you lookin’ at me…?
FF – Sinking
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Erin Leary. To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy.
I shot wildly over the word limit this week, I hope it still reads okay now that I’ve cut it all back to sub-100 :-).
Copyright Erin Leary
Tears of grief stung his eyes as he traversed the swamp. Though a virtually featureless expanse of water and plant-life, he found the spot easily.
This is where he dumped them, watched them sink slowly into the mire – his wife, always so critical, so exhausting; his daughter, always Mummy’s girl.
No longer able to bear the guilt, he stood in that spot, sinking, drowning, until darkness overcame him.
Almost immediately he opened his eyes, blinking. Is this Heaven, he thought? The extreme heat, strong smell of sulphur and the pitchfork poking him in the ribs said otherwise.
Sharing My World 2015 Week 4
Here is this week’s contribution for Cee’s Share Your World.
What one thing are you really glad you did yesterday?
Hmm. Umm. Well, it was Saturday.
I went to the supermarket. I bought petrol. I had an afternoon nap. I played Star Wars Battlefront and shot a bunch of people. And got shot/blown up by many more.
Maybe I should have timed this post after a day when I actually did something.
Are you generally focused on today or tomorrow?
Both, really, especially at work. Obviously I have to be focussed on what I’m doing at that moment, but I also have to keep a thought for deadlines and pending work so I don’t let anything else slide.
At home, I’m more focussed on “the now”. I can’t be thinking of tomorrow’s episode of “Walking Dead” while I’m in the middle of today’s, now can I?
Would you want a guardian angel/mentor? What would they tell you right now?
Nope. I can’t be getting hassled all the time with “helpful” suggestions, whether from non-corporeal being or human.
That said, hopefully right now they’d be telling me that they’ve given up, I’m a hopeless case, I never listen and they’re leaving :-). Toodlie-pipsky, annoying inner voice.
Would you rather live in a cave house or a dome house made out of glass?
Hmm, a nice cosy safe little Hobbit burrow or a big open glass house with, presumably, little privacy. Let me think… the Hobbit burrow for me! Hobbits are cool and they make very cosy houses.
Imagine how hot the glass house would get in the summer. You’d need a second mortgage just to pay for the curtains and air-con. And imagine what would happen if some neighbourhood kid kicked a football? Would the whole thing come crashing down?
Am I over-thinking this? No. Hobbit house!
FFftPP – Terry McGraw, Idiot Thief
Here is my story for Roger’s Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner challenge. To read this week’s other stories click on the blue frog.
The supplied opening sentence is in bold in my story. Since I wanted a sort of lead-in, I’ve popped it in a little further down. The image is public domain and was sourced here.
Public domain image
Gather round, dear friends, and listen to the sad story of Terry McGraw, Idiot Thief…
The last time, everything fit in three duffels.
This time it took five.
If he hadn’t been disturbed mid-burgle, he wouldn’t have had to leave the duffels hidden at the back of the conference room of the hotel. He was going back for them.
If he hadn’t been in such a rush, he would have done his research. If he had half a brain he wouldn’t have gone back tonight of all nights.
Because he went in the back he didn’t see the banners.
Because he crept through the bushes he didn’t see the cars.
Because he snuck in through a service door he didn’t get a good look at the arrivals.
If he’d stopped to listen he wouldn’t have burst through the service door.
If he’d taken a moment to stop and take notice he would have seen the banner above the stage – ‘New York Police Department Annual Awards Ceremony’.
If he’d had an ounce of sense he wouldn’t have drawn his gun.
And here ends the story, dear friends, of the late unlamented Terry McGraw, Idiot Thief, RIP.
FF – Rough Justice
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo comes courtesy of ceayr.
To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy.
After a bit of Google translate action I determined that “Chateau de sable” means “sand castle”. I already knew what “chateau” meant, mind :-).
Copyright ceayr
Jonas started to cry as the bully kicked his sandcastle, spraying fragments into his eyes. The bully’s father approached, but his hopes for swift justice were dashed at the parent’s next words.
“Alan, come on, you can mess with pathetic nerdy wimps another time.”
So it was that years later Jonas was delighted to see both bully and bully’s father standing before him, to see their dismay as they recalled him from that day so long ago.
“I, Jonas pathetic nerdy wimp Jenkins, sentence you both to life. Bailiff, take them down.” He smiled as their castle of sand crumbled to dust.
FFfAW – The Sacred Seal
Here is my story for Priceless Joy’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. This week’s photo was contributed by Sonya from Only 100 Words.
To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy.
Copyright Sonya
“There it is!” cried Maglatosh, rushing forward.
“Yes, yes, on the pavement next to that ugly yellow plant life,” replied Gringadesh. “We are so close, Maglatosh!”
Maglatosh bent over for a closer look. “These symbols on the cover, they must be the ancient glyphs of Gragnok, The Destroyer.”
“Indeed,” replied Gringadesh. “I’ve never seen them myself, but they must be, yes!”
The companions stared at each other for a moment, scarcely able to believe that after so many years they had finally found it. The key to the destruction of Earth.
Gringadesh bent down, levered the hatch open and peered inside. “Look! As prophesied, the Sacred Valve of Gragnok!”
“Turn it, turn it!” yelled Maglatosh. “The Earth shall die!”
Gringadesh turned the valve. From the other side of the wall, a frustrated voice called out.
“Miriam, my hose pipe’s stopped working! Did you turn off the water?”
“Hmm,” mused Gringadesh. “Maybe this isn’t the Sacred Valve of Gragnok after all.”
“I concur,” said Maglatosh. “Our search continues!”
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