Scary Movie – Victorian London Edition
Here is a little story I wrote for Mer for one of her blogs 🙂
Literary Lion – A Well-Honed Edge
Here is my story for Laura’s Literary Lion challenge. The Literary Lion has pawed around in his stash of prompts and for this fortnight has produced the prompt word “edge“.
A Well-Honed Edge
Always look after your tools, his Master had told him. He had taken this to heart, spending hours oiling, sharpening, polishing. His routine had always seen him right. His tools had never failed him.
As darkness fell, he pulled on his work clothes, picked up his tools and left the dark, dingy flat – not his everyday home, but nicely anonymous on the nights he worked. Unusually, he felt a little stab of… fear? No, anticipation. He usually worked for money, but tonight he was upholding a tradition, one as ancient as the hills, a tradition which would allow him to take his place as Master.
Blending in with the night, he entered the old man’s house on silent feet, slipping through the hallways until he saw him sitting in his study, reading. As the knife slid easily – oh, so easily – between his former Master’s ribs, he saw a flicker of pride in the old man’s dying eyes of a tradition upheld, a job well executed, and an edge well-honed.
Sharing My World 2015 Week 42
Here is my contribution to Cee’s Share Your World.
Are you usually late, early, or right on time?
No usually about it. I’m always early. I calculate how long I’ll need based on time of day and so on and then add some time on in case of getting stuck behind tractors and whatnot. Usually if I’m going for a meal with my parents, I’ll arrive, sit in the car for 10 minutes, then go into the restaurant 10 minutes early.
The further I have to go, the earlier I will typically be.
If you were or are a writer do you prefer writing short stories, poems or novels?
If I were a writer I would probably prefer to write short stories. Novels sound like they would take far too much planning!
Where did you live at age ten? Is it the same place or town you live now?
At age ten I lived in Truro, Cornwall. I’ve moved all around but now I’m back in Cornwall, about 7 miles from Truro. Full circle!
Would you rather be able to fly or breathe under water?
Who’s cooler? Superman or Aquaman? I rest my case.
First Date Haiku
Dan Alatorre issued a challenge to write a Haiku, a 5-7-5 “syllable” (syllable is the closest we can get to the actual definition) scheme. He provided a link to a random topic generator and we have to write a Haiku on whichever topic appears first (no constantly clicking the button until a “sensible” topic comes up!).
So I clicked on it this morning and got this:
“What’s the worst thing you can say on a first date?”
Oh, Hell. But rulz is rulz. And to be fair, after writing this I clicked a few more times just to see what I could’ve won, and I think I got off quite easily. So here it is!
“Is that your real face?”
Swift knee to groin ends my dreams
Foot in mouth again.
I did try to do more than one but everything came out rather rude :-(.
I have optimistically placed this post in my “Poems” category.
Friday Fictioneers – Something New
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, which marks Rochelle’s third anniversary as FF host! To celebrate, in a break to usual draliman fare, my story this week is unashamedly a sort of tribute to this landmark. In a sort of analogous way. With the name changed. And the gender. And there’s a bus. But I’m sure you get the idea!
The photo was contributed by Ron Pruitt. Click on the blue froggy for this week’s other stories.
Copyright Ron Pruitt
Fielding thought back to that sunny afternoon, three years ago almost to the day. His life had been good but change is good too, right? So he’d decided to mix things up a bit, take on something new.
He’d boarded that bus back in 2012, ready to visit new territory, meet the challenge. Since that time he’d seen murder and intrigue, philosophy, comedy, pathos, even horror (though he had to admit he wasn’t so keen on the zombies).
Looking back, he knew he’d made the right decision. He’d done good. Everyone said so, and his new undertaking was thriving. Congratulations, Fielding!
MFTS – A Bad Job for Rambo
Here is my story for Barbara’s Mondays Finish the Story. I had trouble thinking of a story for this one. Or rather, I could think of too many stories, none of which “floated my boat”.
The supplied sentence is in bold in my story, and to read this week’s other contributions click on the blue froggy.
Copyright Barbara W. Beacham
Not knowing what to expect, he made his way into the dark of the forest.
He wore simple training shoes, a thin t-shirt and shorts. He was prepared for nothing. Had he compass, map, water, rations, even a viciously-sharp machete?
No! He had none of these things.
The trees closed in around him as it began to get dark, and he decided to make camp. Had he matches, tent, sleeping bag?
No! He had none of these things.
The sounds of the forest caused him to shiver in terror, and for good reason. Suddenly, out of the darkness leapt a gaggle of forest creatures. They tore at his stomach, slicing, rending, eating his intestines before his eyes. They clawed at his face, ripping his eyeballs from their sockets. The feeding frenzy continued until, mercifully, he passed away.
BE PREPARED OR RISK A HORRIBLE DEATH
We hope you enjoy your visit to beautiful Bluebell Forest and Honeysuckle picnic spot
Park Ranger Rambo, J
Green Beret (Ret.)
Sharing My World 2015 Week 41
Here is my post for Cee’s Share Your World for week 41.
What genre of music do you like?
I like all sorts! Pop and rock are the ones I listen to most. Currently early at work when I’m there by myself I’m alternating between Froot (Marina and the Diamonds), the eponymous album Evanescence and The Book of Souls (Iron Maiden).
Sometimes when a particular chap gets in early he sets the radio channel to Classic FM. It drives me nuts. I keep wanting to order dessert because it makes me feel like I’m in a posh restaurant, or maybe in a lift. I know many people find classical music calming but it winds me up something fierce :-).
What is the worst thing you ate this last week?
I didn’t eat anything bad this last week. I always eat much the same stuff week to week, so it’s unlikely that I’ll eat anything “bad”.
Would you like to be famous? In what way?
No, I wouldn’t like to be famous. Imagine having people always trying to sneak a peak into your life, taking long-range photos when you’re out shopping and the like. Yeeks!
Complete this sentence: This sandwich could really use some…
… self respect.
Look at you, sitting there with no mayonnaise. No mustard or condiment of any kind in fact. Call yourself a sandwich? You make me sick, sick I say. Sort yourself out, mister. At least garnish yourself with a little pickle, for Heaven’s sake.
Friday Fictioneers – Stakeout
Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. She also contributed this week’s photo. Click on the blue froggy to see all the other contributions.
Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
“Nasty night. This is going nowhere. Wait… eight hours and you haven’t taken a leak! What are you, Officer Iron Bladder?”
“Adult nappy!”
“Adult… wait, I don’t wanna know. Christ.”
“Always prepared, Sarge! Look – camera, spare camera, spare batteries, phone charger, spare phone, sat nav…”
“Christ.”
“No sign of this drug deal going down, Sarge.”
“Stupid place for it anyway. Too much foot traffic on Winslade Avenue.”
“Um, Winslade Avenue? Not Street?”
“What are you telling me, Mr ‘Always Prepared’?”
“Well, it’s been fun, right? So, philosophically speaking, we’re right where we need to be!”
“Christ.”
MFTS – Mittens
Here’s my story for Barbara Beacham’s Mondays Finish the Story. We get a photo, an opening sentence (in bold in my story) and then 150 words to finish the story.
Click on the blue froggy for all this week’s contributions. Here is a silly little piece from me for this week.
Copyright B.W. Beacham
Now this is living the life of Riley.
He didn’t know exactly who this “Riley” was, nor whether Riley was upset that he’d had his life hijacked. He only cared that he was living it. Cuddles, food and water courtesy of his human servants, naps whenever he liked, he could pretty much do as he wanted. This “Riley” fellow could get stuffed.
That was fine by Mittens, because Mittens, like all cats, was pretty self-centred. He had his humans wrapped around his little paw. A purr here, some ball-chasing hijinks there and they’d do exactly what he wanted.
The life of Riley indeed! This was a summer that would never end!
Or would it? OR WOULD IT?
Across the street, a dark shape lurked in the undergrowth. It glared at the distant shape of little Mittens and growled. Black tabby Riley wanted his life back and Mittens would pay for living it.
Oh yes, Mittens would pay.
(Dum dum DUM)
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