Wednesday, June 22, 2016

The Long Flight Home

copyright-Rich Voza

I have had these calls before.  We discuss myriad topics under the sun, the weather, the movies, sporting events and how the children are growing up.  And so it goes until next time when we repeat the same.  How many times did they end with an “I love you”?

I have had these calls before.  Calls after I talked to my father, listened in to my wife’s brother on Skype and hours after the last chat with my mother.  All unexpected but this time I was waiting for the call.  My brother-in-laws’s suffering was over.

And the long flight home.

Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100

It has been over a month since my brother-in-law passed away.  I didn't know how to express my emotions in this blog and have been silent for a while.  The courage and dignity with which he bore his suffering remains an example to our family.  He will be missed.

To fly with the other writers this week click here.

Thursday, May 05, 2016

Sing a song of sixpence

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Sing a song of sixpence
A pocket full of rye

“Putain!” Monsieur Auguste gave a one fingered salute to the birds.

“Imbecile flying turd buckets,” he muttered angrily.

It hadn’t always been like this.  The leisurely walk to work from his quarters to main kitchen had been a source of pleasure.  The immaculate gardens with its beautiful flowers always gave a reason to smile.  That happiness was then reflected in the food he created.

But for the past year the avian menace was getting to him.

“What’s for dinner?” inquired the King.

“Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie”
Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100

Sometimes one must look at the funny side of life no matter what it throws at you.

To fly with the birds this week click here.

Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Purple Rain

PHOTO PROMPT © Mary Shipman

I never meant to cause you any sorrow
I never meant to cause you any pain
In the days after you wander around the house forlorn.

You open her wardrobe and caress the dresses hanging there.  You draw them close and inhale the fragrances left behind.  The citrus and herbal smells from a happier place in another time.

There is a stench here too, of arguments and decay, of raised voices floating in ether as your fingers trace a line over the newly plastered wall.

I only want to see you, only want to see you

In the purple rain

Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100

I wanted to include this song for my last post but late submissions rarely get read so I decided to leave it for this week.  And fortunately there is an entry in time after last week's technical glitches.

So here's to a singer, songwriter, a producer and a one man band - Prince

Monday, April 25, 2016


PHOTO PROMPT © Madison Woods

Hassan looks across the barbed wired fence and its sharp jagged barbs.  Beyond it lie the promises of freedom from horrors of the past.

He was out of the house when the liberators came looking for the “collaborator” and punished his parents as a warning to those who would disobey. 

He ran that night, hidden under the tarpaulin in a dilapidated van with the saving of a lifetime strapped close to his body.  He was soon parted with that when they put him on a boat with assurances of deliverance.      

He waits now for freedom from bias and barbed wires.

Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100

Phew! I didn't think I'd be able to have an entry this week. My laptop crashed and I had to spend the weekend frantically figuring out how to fix it.  Then when the access came back, Chrome decided I could not access my blog. Fortunately working in IT lets you find workarounds :-)
To read the stories for this week click here.

Thursday, April 14, 2016

The Last Will

PHOTO PROMPT © Kent Bonham

We file into the room together following the man in the suit.  Inside there is an assortment of grimaces, forced smiles, hostile looks and attempts at cheery indifference.

She grips my hand tightly and hisses, “Why is she here? The little gold digger!”

I flash a warning glare as the Suit clears his throat and the whispers subside.

“I’d like to remind everyone that our team has advised that the document is legally valid.  The instructions clearly state that the estate goes to the person who can decipher his last statement”.

He holds up the document to cries of dismay.

Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100

To read the stories for this week click here.

Thursday, April 07, 2016

Teddy Bears' Picnic

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

If you go down to the woods today,
You're sure of a big surprise.

Personally he didn’t want to go but after years of waiting the authorities had decreed that one member of each family must go back.

The path to the house was difficult to drive, so they let him out and watched as he negotiated the terrain. 

He had been playing outside that day and had cried on leaving Ted behind.

Now the backyard was a jungle.

The last thing he noticed were the glowing eyes of the teddies as they surrounded him.

Picnic time for teddy bears

Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100

The second entry for the week based on a song very popular with my kids when they were small, the first one was about Beauty Sleep.

To read the stories coming out of the woods click here.

Wednesday, April 06, 2016

Beauty Sleep

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping

She lay in front of him the fairest sight one ever beheld.  The legend of a sleeping beauty rumoured to be asleep for a hundred years was true indeed.

I look at the world and I notice it's turning

What a story!  He had succeeded where others had failed. The impenetrable thorn-hedge, a barrier to adventurers, had yielded and let him pass.

 “But a hundred years older that’s seriously uncool”.

Maybe the story of the girl living with seven dwarfs would be worth investigating.

Still my guitar gently weeps
Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100

To read the stories coming out of the woods click here.

Last week was busy and the weekend was spent in travelling so I missed out last week's episode as country roads took me home.

I can't seem to stop incorporating songs from Beatles into my stories, this week's offering contains words from one of my favourites.  George Harrison's masterpiece While My Guitar Gently Weeps
I also have another entry in for this week.