The Escalator to Heaven

PHOTO PROMPT © Ulrika Undén

“Where is the stairway?” the aged rocker asked his cherub faced companion.

The flustered little winged companion who was bit of a fan stammered out.

“It’s been replaced since the new OHS guidelines came out”.

Seeing the confused look the angelic child elaborated.

“Some decades ago, due to a slip in the vetting standards, we had a lawyer come through.  He slipped and sued claiming that the stairs were not of uniform dimensions.  Unfortunately his legal team, from down there, had a strong case.”

“No more stairs then?”

“We had them replaced, plus the Boss really likes the malls.”

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

To read the other writers this current week, click here.

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I Scream

PHOTO PROMPT © Na’ama Yehuda

Looking at old photographs has become a daily ritual with me.  Tonight I find one of an ice cream container taken long before Instagram made food porn mandatory. How the memories come flooding back.

What was that we said?  I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream.  Funny how a little tub of essentially frozen milk, cream and sugar can lift spirits after chemo.

No child is so pampered I used to tease nor so lucky to get ice cream every night. But that smile was ever so worth it. 

Now all I have are memories and photos. 

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

This is my first submission written on a mobile phone so I have probably spent more time on formatting this entry 😀

Note: I've made a little tweak and changed a line that previously was:
"Funny what a little tub of essentially frozen milk, cream and sugar can do for a child."
The new change is actually what I originally wanted to write but then decided to not to have a reference to chemo.  I still don't know what works better, but I decided to make that change and write down my reasons for this edit.

To read the other writers this current week, click here.

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The Mission

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

“Beware of pretty flowers” our jungle combat instructor had drilled that message into us in the academy.  But that was in training.  Now here I am, in the lair of El Jackalo, the famed terrorist.  My brother in arms and I dropped off at the border this morning.  Using our skills we have navigated this horticultural nightmare where danger lurks at every turn. It was the glimpse of the famed guardian mothers that caused us to separate.

While I fear for his safety the mission must go.

“Young man will you stop crawling right now”.

 “Aw mom.”

I am busted.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

The lesson for the week is that if you write for a weekly prompt just check if it is from the right week  and not an old prompt  ;-)

To read the other writers this current week, click here.

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Still Waters

PHOTO PROMPT © C.E. Ayr

This is where my story ends, right here by the water.  It is still dawn when the golden glow of the lamps shimmers in the water just before the lights go off and the creeping rays from the sun bask on the surface. 

I slide into the water and let it surround me.  Above me the lights play on the surface as I submerge leaving behind worries rippling on water.  Will they miss me when I am gone?

A fish swims past.  Such a beauty but my lungs are bursting.  I swim to the surface and my story begins again.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

Well hello Fictioneers, I am back in your community.  The photo this week comes from that master of macabre tales - CE Ayr, I was really tempted tie the narrator to some heavy bricks and released into the water but this time I resisted the temptation.  Be warned that I am planning to contribute more regularly once again.

To read the other writers this week, click here.

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It's Mo Time Folks

Hello Readers,

Start with a blank canvas

It’s Movember and time to focus on men’s health. To show my commitment, I’m donating my face to the cause by growing a moustache for the entire month of November, and need your support. My Mo will spark conversations, and no doubt generate some laughs; all in the name of raising vital awareness and funds for prostate cancer male depression.

I’m asking you to support my Movember campaign by making a donation by either:
*Donating online at: http://mobro.co/subroto
*Writing a cheque payable to ‘Movember,’ referencing my Registration ID: 1141902 and mailing it to: Movember, PO Box 60, East Melbourne, VIC, 8002

I recommend a good Mo Ya(r)n

Funds raised will help make a tangible difference to the lives of others. Through the Movember Foundation and its men’s health partners, the Prostate Cancer Foundation of Australia and beyondblue – the national depression initiative, they are funding world class research, educational and support programs which would otherwise not be possible.

Chase that Mo.

If you’d like to find out more about the type of work you’d be helping to fund by supporting Movember, take a look at the Work We Fund section on the Movember website: http://au.movember.com/about

Thank you in advance for supporting my efforts to change the face of men’s health. All donations over $2 are tax deductible.

Mo Meditation Moments

Subroto Pant
Please donate at: http://mobro.co/subroto

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Open Book

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

I can read you like a book.

That's what he said each time I wanted to do something. He'd order my food at restaurants because he knew what I wanted.  He'd buy jewellery and clothes for me because he knew my tastes.

He said he wanted to improve me and if I truly loved him I’d follow his advice.

So when we remodelled the kitchen he picked out the décor he knew I would like.

I am glad he chose that expensive meat cleaver with the high-carbon stainless steel blade.

Worked like a treat.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

The photo this week comes from that master of macabre tales - CE Ayr, so how could I resist this tale.

To read the other writers this week, click here.

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Potted Plant Plot

The maestro was in his element, mumbling to himself while examining the bookshelf.   In great excitement he seized me by the coat-sleeves.

“I have been an imbecile Watson.  Observe the evidence”, his eyes glittered, “tell me that you see it too”.

“You amaze me, Holmes,” said I, “who is it?”

“The footprints on the top shelf.  The murderer was here in this room disguised as a plant “.

“How do we find him?”

“Inspector Lestrade must look for a man resembling a potted plant.”

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

To read the other writers this week, click here.

I have another flash in this week Shelf Life

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Shelf Life

Copyright Penny Gadd

I have been a lower shelf person for all my life.  The kind that is always within easy reach.  Need company for a movie? Call me.  Want a last minute party inclusion to make up numbers? Hey I don’t mind, I know how busy you are, invites slip your mind. It happens.

You? Always at the top of the shelf and a little hard to reach but you do get around.  Spreading out in all directions, upward mostly but occasionally sending feelers down and reminding us of your presence. 

Eventually you will find your way to my shelf.

***

Written for the Friday Fictioneers.  Word count:100

To read the other writers this week, click here.

I have another flash in this week Potted Plant Plot

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