Friday Fictioneers – Pioneer Monkey
Here is my story for this week’s Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo is by Dale Rogerson. Thanks, Dale!
To read this week’s other contributions, click on the blue froggy.
“What-ho, Simpkins, our submersible prototype returns!”
“Indeed, Pendergast. But wait, it is full to the brim with water!”
“Dash it. Quickly, retrieve the monkey.” They opened the hatch and pulled out a rather waterlogged simian.
“How fares he, Simpkins?” asked Pendergast.
“Speak to me, Chester!” shouted Simpkins, hammering on the monkey’s chest. Water spouted from its mouth.
Ook.
“Thank Heavens! Chester lives!”
“A palpable success, Simpkins,” said Pendergast. “I’ll wager you’re glad to be out of there, Chester!”
Ook! Ook!
“Tomorrow,” said Simpkins, “we shall trial our rocket ship, powered only by the flatulence of cattle. To the stars, Chester!”
Ooooook.
MFTS – Musings of a Dead Man
Here is my story for this week’s Mondays Finish the Story, conceived and hosted by Barbara Beacham. We are given a sentence to start us off, plus a picture. The supplied opening sentence is in bold in my story below.
To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy. My story this week is a little bit gruesome! I blame the photo :-).
I watched the vulture looking at me hungrily as I lay on the ground bleeding and injured.
Well, “injured” is putting it mildly. I’ve been dead for days, but here I lie, waiting for… whatever. Maybe they’ve forgotten about me?
What’s that damn vulture up to now? Here it comes, right on my face. Great. There goes the other eyeball. I hope you choke on it, you stupid bird. Now I can’t see anything at all.
What happened to the chorus of angels? What happened to the bright light? Come to think of it, how will I even see the bright light with no eyeballs?
What’s that now I hear? Howling? Well, that’s just bloody brilliant, that is. Wolves. Marvellous. Here they come. At least they’ve scared the vulture away, the bastard. Yes, that’s it, feast on my intestines. No shoving, there’s enough for everyone. Bollocks.
Not that I have either of those left. The vulture had them yesterday.
Hello? Hello? Angels? Anyone? Is there anybody up there…?
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.
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.
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.
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.)












