The Golden Tale

PHOTO PROMPT © Karuna

Viral photos are showing that the biggest doozy is the fairy tale about sweet innocent Goldilocks stumbling her way into the three bear's den.

A tale so fake I wonder how the National Enquirer missed a scoop.

How did she get inside a lair that even B.B Wolf could not crack?

No insurance claims have been made over the flimsy chair. Health & Safety has been silent about the hot porridge. Neither has Child Safety inquired why the baby bear was being fed cold porridge.

No one has seen Goldilocks since the alleged misadventure. It’s not all milk and honey.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100. 

To make up for my absence from last week, here is the second for this week.  Score one for the conspiracy theorists.  The first story can be read here -> Playtime Rules.

To read the other stories this week click here.  

Playtime Rules

PHOTO PROMPT © Karuna

There is a reason why children must play with toys.

It is past midnight when the toys come alive.  Those that were busy during the day are too tired to make use of this time and can be found where they were left after playtime. 

The abandoned ones, especially those still inside the packages, make most use of this time.  They are the ones that creep out of the house.  The ones that take a ride on the cat, jump in the mud and get absolutely filthy.

So you know what you have to do then?

Play with my toys.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100. 

Phew! Got one in.  The first reaction to the prompt was to do dark.  My mind has been wandering in that area for a while, so to get out of that rut I decide to go for cute instead :-)

I do have another entry this week -> The Golden Tale
To read the other stories this week click here.  

Hope

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Dreams, you know, they don’t always work out.  Sometimes they shatter or even explode. 

Kaboom!

In your face and all you have left behind is the debris.  Charred fragments of your heart scattered across what we call ground zero now. 

Yeah that’s where we are and it’s not a pretty sight.  You stand there wondering how do you ever survive this?  This wasteland of shattered dreams built with your sweat and blood.  Might as well pack up and go home now.

But in the midst of that rubble you see it, that delicate ethereal piece radiating beauty.  Hope springs anew.

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100. 

Hey! I am back again after missing the last few editions after having surgery on my hand for Carpal Tunnel.  In some ways it was good to get a break from typing away at a keyboard and have an excuse to watch TV.  My entry this week is probably not fiction but more like hundred words of musing.

To read the other stories this week click here.  

Frog Prince

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

A few years after the fairy tale wedding the cracks started to appear.  From his insistence on her wearing glass slippers to bed, his online chats with Sleep1ngBooty and the worrisome new habit of pulling of her hair, their relationship lacked the spark.   

She even considered the idea of staring in a reality show, “The Real Princesses of Fairyland” but her Fairy Godmother had vetoed that idea.  For that he said one needed to have a leaked tape like the one Show White had done when she lived with the dwarves.

Maybe if I turned the prince into a frog?

***

Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100. 

Here we go, welcome to another edition of stories written from the Airport Lounge.  To read the other fairy tales this week click here.  

After a Year

PHOTO PROMPT © Liz Young

My eyes open when the first rays of the sun dance upon dewy grass.  I am in the kitchen, the kettle whistling on the stove as I brew us a pot.

 I step outside and place the tray on the table.  Our day starts with freshly brewed tea, a milk jug, a bowl of sugar, two cups and plate of biscuits.

I hear you shuffling slowly, your glasses dangling on the end of your short nose and the rustling of the paper in your hand.

You’ve been gone for a year now and yet you remain in my heart.

**

Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100. 

This week marked my brother-in-law's first death anniversary.  The photo was a strange coincidence but I  knew I had to write about love and remembrance this week.  Gone but not forgotten.  To read the other writers this week click here.  

The Dialectics of Lust

PHOTO PROMPT © Magaly Guerrero

So there we are in the Art Gallery.  Not my choice as a meeting place, dare I say it ‘first date’.

“So what do you think?” he asks.

I think it’s crap but I bottle that feeling. Apart from this arty side, there is a lot going on with this fella.  Think conversations beyond monosyllables and an ability to dress well.

I improvise.

“It’s fascinating this portrayal of relationship between postmodern discourse and Jungian archetypes.”

He nods approvingly.

“The viewer is left with an insight into dialectics of lust in our culture.”

He grins sheepishly, “I thought it was crap”.

**

Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100. 

The silly season is here again with this post.  I am back after a break and what could be another break for a couple of weeks.  If you have been afraid to comment, this is your last chance.  Blogger does not bite I am told.  To visit the other artists this week click here.  

Sail of the Century

PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier Deria

The boat was ready to sail.  Except I just had too many question to ask of the Captain.  My mates were getting restless and screamed at me to “stop anchoraging the Captain.”

Moi? They had to barge in the conversation to tell me this?  I could keel for this and still be justified. 

I could feel the anchor rising in my eyes. 

The Captain?  He may not have been a pretty buoy but nothing bothered him.  His calmness was oar-inspiring. Pier pressure had no impact on him. 

“I didn’t do it on porpoise,” I screamed back.

I kid you knot.

**

Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100. 

I took a punt this week and decided to go overboard with the nauty words.  It's in shark contrast to what I normally do.   But schooner or later it was bound to happen.  If you harbour feelings for other writers this week click here.  

Watching Jack

PHOTO PROMPT © Jennifer Pendergast

Long after Jack had gone, the timepiece remained as the pride of the town.

It hadn’t always been like this. The council record’s revealing his neighbour’s complaint.  "Jack has a giant beanstalk and now I cannot access my back side.” 

A perusal of the Council’s records brings up a litany of complaints against the troublesome teen.  “The price of gold is going up because Jack’s hen got laid.  Will the council investigate?”

The Giant’s fall brought forth multiple noise violation complaints.  Informed sources claim only the donation of the timepiece and a dozen golden eggs kept Jack out of trouble.

**

Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100. 

So many other titles kept running through my mind.  In the end I decided to be polite.   To keep in sync with the other writers this week click here.  

Crickets

Copyright Shaktiki Sharma

It doesn’t take much to set me off.  Cut into my lane when I am driving and I’ll unleash my inner Mad Max. Put your shopping trolley in front of mine before the cash register, I’ll make you pay. 

I have nothing against people, black, white or multicoloured just don’t breathe my air.

That old crone had no right to move past me.  So I stuck a foot out discreetly.  She squealed all the way down the escalator.

I chuckled when she screamed “I know which insect did this.”

If I ever transform back, they are getting crickets from me.

**

Written for Friday Fictioneers Word Count : 100. 

OK  it's not a cricket, so sue me.   To get bugged by the other writers this week click here.