FFftPP – The List
I know, it’s technically Friday Fictioneers day, but I’ve written a late entry for Roger’s Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner.
The supplied opening sentence is in bold, and the picture was sourced here.
Click on the blue froggy for other stories.
Public Domain Archive
There it was. You could see the corner of the folded yellowed parchment sticking out of the torn lining of the battered book.
“How did it get in there?” asked Sarah.
“I don’t know,” replied Mother, “but we need it. We can’t leave without The List.” She gave a tentative tug at the corner of The List. It didn’t move.
“Care, mother!” snapped Sarah. Ashamed at her tone, she continued in a softer voice. “The Book is ancient. We dare not damage it!”
“But The List,” replied Mother. “The List is essential. Without it we cannot continue. All will be lost.”
“One moment.” Sarah rummaged through her pack, finding a pair of tweezers. Carefully, she tugged at the corner of The List until, inch by inch, it came free.
“There!” she said. “At last we have The List, and The Book is undamaged.” She handed it to Mother who unfolded it carefully, almost reverently.
“Is everything there, Mother?” asked Sarah anxiously. “Did you remember the eggs?”
“Yes!” said Mother triumphantly. “Let’s go shopping!”
Buster Must Die!
This is my contribution for Evil Squirrel’s Third Annual Contest of Whatever.
Despite the fact that I can’t draw, I’ve entered a story in pictures! The only rule this year is that we must include Buster, and Buster Must Die! You can’t tell from my pictures, but Buster is a possum, who dies on a regular basis so this is nothing new for the poor chap. In fact, having to keep him alive would have been a bigger challenge.
If you’d like to see what Buster really looks like by someone who can draw, click here.
Sharing My World 2016 Week 7
It’s time again for Cee’s Share Your World.
What are you a “natural” at doing?
I can’t really think of anything I’m a “natural” at. I’m pretty good at having naps at the drop of a hat I guess.
Would you prefer a one floor house or multiple levels?
I like having an upstairs to go to at the end of the day. However, I do worry about the stairs when I get older. I may end up in a single-storey house at some point in the future.
Okay at the moment…
What was your favourite subject in school?
Physics, I guess. I also liked English, but only half of it. Lessons (and exams) were split into “English Language” and “English Literature”. It was the literature I never got on with. All those old books, and worse, the poetry… :-(.
Complete this sentence: If only the rain…
… would stop already. We’ve hardly had a day without rain all year. Even if it starts off looking okay, it rains later on. People are getting sad and grumpy :-(.
Nice start, didn’t last.
FF – Imagination
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. Today’s photo was contributed by FF regular Sandra Crook.
You can read this week’s other stories by clicking on the blue froggy.
Copyright Sandra Crook
“Check this out! It’s really a time machine.”
“No way!”
“Yes way! See the hourglasses? What time is it now?”
“Um… big hand’s on the… um… twenty-five past three.”
“I’m going to spin the central bit, round and round and…”
“Oy! You kids! What’re you doing to ‘The Sands of Time’? Clear off!”
“Run!”
“Phew, that was close. Did it work?”
“What time is it now?”
“Um… twenty-six past three. Wow, we’ve travelled forward a whole minute!”
“Told ya! Pretty cool, huh?”
“Yeah! What shall we do now?”
“See that spiky thing over there? It’s really a spaceship.”
“No way!”
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.
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