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Posts Tagged ‘flash fiction’

FF – A Portal of Faerie Make

October 18, 2017 51 comments

Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Sandra Crook.

To read the other stories, click the blue froggy.

Copyright Sandra Crook

 

It is said that some trees provide access to other worlds, even allowing entry to the faerie realm itself, a place of magic and wonder.

Thus, one dark and windy night two adventurers, with all due reverence, approached such a tree, fearful yet excited. What miracles awaited? What riches of body and soul?

The first reached out, tentatively, his companion nodding encouragement. Eyes wide, scarcely breathing, he touched the tree, almost a caress, reciting the ancient spell.

Then gave it a shove. Then a bit of a kicking.

“Arse. It’s just a tree.”

“Bollocks.”

“Pub?”

“Yeah.”

 

Pegman – The Last

October 15, 2017 40 comments

This week, What Pegman Saw takes us to Mauritius.  My story this week was inspired by the historical note at the end of J. Hardy Carroll’s story regarding the dodos and giant tortoises.

For some reason I make comedies out of depressing places and grim tragedies out of paradises 🙂

Copyright Google Maps

 

“Good shot, Captain Van Dijk, good shot, sir!”

“Thank you! These strange flightless birds are easy targets.”

“This is the first we’ve seen for weeks. I wonder if it’s the last one?”

“Who cares? They make good eating. If it is, we’ll try a giant tortoise.”

The last dodo.

The last white tiger. That’ll look good on my wall.

The last whale.

The last lion. That was an exhilarating hunt.

The last bear.

The last fish. We need somewhere to dump the waste.

The last gorilla.

The last tree. We need room to expand.

The last human looked through diseased eyes at a broken world and wept at the folly of Man.

 

FF – Draliman’s The Birds

October 11, 2017 69 comments

Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Douglas M. MacIlroy.

Here is my take on Hitchcock’s classic. Obviously in only 100 words I couldn’t quite capture the atmosphere of the original. Nevertheless, I give you Draliman’s The Birds.

 

“Speak, damn you, speak!”

Squaaaawk!

“Stupid bird. Back in your cage!”

Bwahahaha! Stupid human! Calling all myna birds. Now is our time, brothers and sisters. Rise up! Rise up!

At that mental call, myna birds the world over took notice. A vicious glint entered their beady eyes. Curling their razor-sharp claws, sharpening their beaks, united they took action, maliciously hurling naughty words at their unsuspecting owners.

Forever more, this day came to be known to the mynas as “the day the world changed” and to humans as “last Thursday when little Timmy taught that damn bird a swear word”.

 

FF – Crescent Moon

October 4, 2017 69 comments

Here is my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. This week’s photo was contributed by Ted Strutz.

To read the other stories, click on the blue froggy.

Copyright Ted Strutz

 

The moon shone, a bright dot in the night sky. Faces upturned, the passengers oohed and aahed. Some took pictures. They’d never seen it so bright.

A small child, astronomy a favourite subject, insisted that the moon was in its crescent phase, but nobody listened. After all, there it was, a shining bright coin in the sky. No, now a shining bright plate. The passengers oohed and aahed.

As the moon grew from dot to coin to plate and more, the passengers grew scared. Some screamed. Some jumped overboard. It didn’t help. Nothing helped.

It wasn’t the moon.

The world burned.

 

Pegman – Vera versus Morocco

October 2, 2017 32 comments

Here is my story for What Pegman Saw.

I thought I wasn’t going to manage this week – still working all hours – but I did! And… hold your breath, people – it’s the triumphant return of Vera, the old lady from “up North” who never stops talking, which gets her out of all sorts of scrapes. You can read more of her stories here.

This week we are in Casablanca, Morocco.

(Quick update, I Googled “cosh” and it appears to be “British informal”. It’s a baton or cudgel, Americans might call it a “night stick”.)

Copyright Google

 

“Come on, Auntie, let’s go along here.”

“Eee, no, let’s try this way, oh I say, a bit dismal this, reminds me of home…”

“Uh, Auntie, this doesn’t look too safe…”

“… look at what I’ve stepped in, foreign poo that is, not like the poo back home…”

“Hey! Tourists! Give to me your valuables!”

“… who’s this then? you look just like me grandson, lovely lad, maybe you know ‘im…”

“This a robbery, you give…”

“…robbery? when I were a lass they done it right, black bag, balaclava, cosh, where’s yer cosh? what’s that? a peashooter? where’s yer sawn-off? give it ‘ere, you could ‘ave someone’s eye out, I’ll just put it in me bag where it’s safe…”

“Hey, my pistol, give it…”

“… you could hurt someone, where’s yer mamma? I’ll ‘ave words, hey, you come back ‘ere, no word of goodbye, no manners the yoof of today ramble mutter mutter…”

 

FF – History Repeats

September 27, 2017 51 comments

Here’s my story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. The photo is by J. Hardy Carroll.

No time this week so just chucked out a quick story so as not to miss it. Click on the blue froggy for the other stories. I’ll try to read as many as possible, depends how this work project goes.

 

Harry slumped in the derelict building, swigging vodka and reminiscing on his downfall.

“It’s gotta be this one, Frank. No way it’s a flophouse. No broken windows – bullet-proof for sure.”

“I dunno, Harry. This operation’s cost over a million. Copter support, armoured vehicles…”

“No worries. Go go go!”

They blew the door. A bum looked up in surprise and threw up on Harry’s boots.

His daydream shattered as the door to the old warehouse exploded. Armoured men ran in. Harry looked up – a familiar face!

“Hey, Frank! Wrong building!” he slurred.

“Shit.”

“Saved you a seat right here! Vodka?”

 

Pegman – They Saved the World!

September 24, 2017 42 comments

Here is my post for What Pegman Saw, which this week is at the Sambor Prei Kuk temple in Cambodia. It’s a bit small, but the sign says “No Entry” in various languages, and there’s scaffolding up.

To read the other stories, click on the blue froggy.

Copyright Google

 

“After millennia, I return to the temple of Sambor Prei Kuk, my ancient home.”

“Your time is nigh, Master!”

“Correct, minion. I shall absorb the ancient power and I shall kill, smash and destroy! The world will BURN!”

“Yes, Master. Burn!”

“Let us enter, let us… NO! THIS CANNOT BE!”

“What is the matter, Master?”

“Cannot you read, minion? There is no entry. The site is currently unsafe.”

“But, Master, you are Death Incarnate, Destroyer of Worlds…”

“SILENCE, MINION! Do you seriously suggest that we ignore the sign? It could be dangerous. It clearly states that construction work is underway.”

“But Master… burn… destroy…”

“We cannot go around ignoring signs willy-nilly. It would be ANARCHY! We shall return next week. Perhaps they will be finished.”

They were not finished. The workers drank a lot of tea and leaned on their shovels for hours, but the work was unending and the world was safe.