Sunday, July 26, 2015


PHOTO PROMPT © Dee Lovering

Every winter you would find him at the town centre.  Undeterred by the weather he would make the journey by foot.  If the stalls were open he’d have the hot dog with onion relish and hot mustard.  
Then buy an ice cream cone (“Ice Cream If You Dare”) from the same vendors. He would then take a stroll, indulging in banter at the various stalls.

It hadn’t always been like that especially when he reappeared.  Sullen glances followed him.  His banter met with gruff responses and hostility, the town hostile over his early release and the circumstances of her death.


Written for the Friday Fictioneers  Word Count : 100.  

To read the other Friday Fictioneers snowflakes go here

Travelling for work this week.  This post comes from the chillier climes of Sydney. 

Sunday, July 19, 2015

Ding dong! The bells are gonna chime.

He felt a sharp nudge in his ribs followed by a voice in a brusque tone


Inside his head the heavy metal drummer had stepped up the beat and his head throbbed like a nightclub past the midnight hour.

An eyelid strained to open in response to the angry voices.  

Where was he?  He struggled into a sitting position,  There was someplace he was supposed to be today but where? A celebration happened last night. Someone was getting married today.  

Him! The geometric pattern of the hotel roof came into view and a wave of nausea swept over him.


Written for the Friday Fictioneers  Word Count : 100.  

To read what the other Friday Fictioneers have been upto go here

Phew! Made it in this week.  Was moving homes last week and was internet free for five days.  Oh the horrors!  But the kids survived.
Also very flattered to find that one of my old FF posts was selected as 
Top 14 Short Stories Blog Post of Last Month (MAY 2015) on the Baggout site.  I'll take it even though the caption is incorrect and I forgot to give them an author bio ("I write" that should be enough).  

Friday, July 03, 2015

Vincent Van Caught

PHOTO PROMPT – © Jean L. Hays

When Vincent was five his parents organised an exhibition of his paintings at home.  Mother really wanted to book the local art gallery but Father baulked at the costs.  Still invitations were sent and a caterer provided hors d’oeuvre and drinks.

Mother said that Art brings about a refining quality.  While Vincent was her womb she read aloud the lives of famous artists and their techniques.   She felt vindicated by the artwork that Vincent produced at the childcare.

At eighteen Vincent was caught spraying profane graffiti ranting against art.  The local newspaper reported the 'artistic vandal'.  Mother was so proud.


Written for the Friday Fictioneers  Word Count : 100.  

To visit the Friday Fictioneers gallery and browse through the works of the other artists go here