Banished

Contrary to the mainstream version of the three little pigs story, the wolf had no interest in eating the pigs. His plan, however less gruesome was still devious; he banished them to desolation behind fortified doors.

Piggy: bedmate to Lazarus

Piggylyt: floor manager robbers den.

Piggylyte: Lab assistant Merseyside morgue.

One can only imagine the chaos that ensued with the words

Lazarus come forth!

Open sesame!

And the knock knock joke by the coroner!

It was all oinks and shrieks.

As for Mr fox his inept spells has him trapped in Piggylyte stone fortress lost forever in fairytale land.

PHOTO PROMPT © CEayr


Written for Friday fictioneers a writing challenge hosted by Rochelle. The picture was provided by the lovely CEayr the task is to write a 100 words story inspired by it. Thanks Rochelle for hosting the challenge. Thank you for stopping by… do click on the link to read other stories.

Making room

Cereal cupboard extreme left; six different brands, two packs of each one. 

Walking across the polished floor giving each cupboard a thorough check, taking care not to slide, Marion smiled there was so much space. Who would have ever imagined she would own such an elegant kitchen? Well Niall had, he had always wanted more space. 

Gone was the single shelf with everything they owned stacked on different layers;tight squeezes to get in and out, accidental finger hellos and smiles as they helped each other squirt ketchup or mustard across the plate.

She missed those days, but it felt good to walk freely without bumping into something or someone.There was no doubt Niall was enjoying the space at least he hadn’t complained since she last saw him in the basement.

When he asked her to give him space in his heart, she knew it was time to throw him out of hers, with no chance of  resuscitation.

There were benefits to having so much space after-all.


In response to the writing challenge flash fiction for aspiring writers hosted by Priceless Joy click on the link to visit the blog. The photograph is from the lovely Maria @ doodles and scribbles (interesting photo can’t wait to see all the stories it inspires) and the challenge is to write a 100 – 150 words (+/- 25 words) story inspired by it. Do click on the link for other stories. 

 

 

Gaping love

She asked,

Where are the scars on your heart,

the bruise on your soul.

Where are the welt marks on your back,

the weeping ulcers on your heels.

A prove of

how far you would walk 

how much you would endure 

how much you would weep

if you lost my love

He replied,

I would walk the deep to prove it to you

But I wonder, would your heart let you recognize it?

Would the image in your mind 

embrace the image before you?

Perhaps your soul craves a martyrs love 

before the love of a mere mortal.

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Watered jokes

“Have I you about the man who turned bright red when I gave him a ticket?”

“Bright red? Nope you’ve never told me about that one.”

But off course he had. 

“Well you see, a  flood the night before had moved his car into the wrong parking zone. Being the proverbial clown I gave him a ticket and told him to invest in a flood proof car next time.”

“I guess the flood dislodged his sense of humour.”

“It sure did.”  Hearty laughter filled the air.

The scene and story never varied.

His humour was intact unlike his memory.

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr


Please bear with me I am still having issues with my computer but will undoubtedly find a way to catch up with everyone’s story and blog over the weekend.

Written for Friday fictioneers a writing challenge hosted by Rochelle. The picture was provided by CEAyr the task is to write a 100 words story inspired by it. Thanks Rochelle for hosting the challenge. Thank you for stopping by… do click on the link to read other stories.

Relational aggression a mask for bullying

Definition: relational aggression or abusive relationship is a type of aggression in which harm is caused by damaging someone’s relationships or social status. 

Children attempt to inflict harm on peers (i.e. aggressing) in ways that destroy or damage shared goals within their respective gender peer groups. According to research boys have been shown to harm others through physical and verbal aggression (e.g., hitting or pushing others, threatening to beat up others). These behaviors are consistent with the types of goals that past research has shown to be important to boys within the peer group context, specifically, themes of instrumentality and physical dominance (see Block, 1983, for a review). However, for girls the focus is on relational issues centered around social interaction e.g., establishing close, intimate connections with others. This might include actions such as angrily retaliating against a child by excluding her from one’s play group; purposefully withdrawing friendship or acceptance in order to hurt or control the child; spreading rumors about the child so that peers will reject her. 

We tend to excuse this behavior in adolescents as well as grown women with different gimmicks: girls will be girls, sharing common goals, click of friends. I don’t have much of an issue with these labels but they shouldn’t be an excuse for abandoning our humanity, basic courtesies or the salient law of treating others how we would like to be treated.

I found this article ‘girls-and-their-frenemies’ on the topic very informative, one to discuss with my daughter in the future. Do click on the link.

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Alleyway mystery

Sunday

August 11 2016.

At exactly 11:45 PM, three individuals left Mystic Maggie’s pub through the usual route. They neither staggered nor fell but a whiff of something strong drenched the air tracing their paths away from the pub.

Across the road in an alleyway was lay an empty barrel and a bin. It was the home of a well known beggar, who shared the space during the day with his friendly neighbor, Simone  the cat. 

“Help me” Someone screamed.

Help me echoed the alleyway. A cat shrieked and the pub door swung one.

Someone ended up in the bin.

Another had a broken wrist before the police arrived.

Someone ended up at home with a cat.

  • Can you place everyone in the story?
  • What was the smell?

Humor me, I know it might be pretty easy for some people, but it’s still fun. You might try reading it out to someone and asking them to place the individuals.

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Copyright Pixabay

The long road to forever

She was dying to remember, he was living to forget.

A boy placed in her arms all cute and button nosed, a mother holding him a little too tight to her bossom.

A wee baba totally dependent on her for everything, a mother critical of every choice.

There had never been a time when life meant so much to her, there had never been room to add anything more to his life.

She was dying to remember, he was living to forget.

Days when he depended on her, less by choice, more from fright.

A bond of trust forever fractured.

PHOTO PROMPT - © Adam Ickes
Copyright Adam Ickes

Written for Friday fictioneers a writing challenge hosted by Rochelle. The picture was provided by Adam Ickes, the task is to write a 100 words story inspired by it. Thanks Rochelle for hosting the challenge. Thank you for stopping by… do click on the link to read other stories.

Life in the Serengeti

‘A niche for you, a niche for me in a world big enough for us all,’ cries the soul of a starving child in a land where no one wants to abide. 

We all want a piece of Serengeti to call ours, a warm endless plain rich with all we can imagine for a lush life. Private spa’s, luxurious dishes and peep holes for observing the Jones next door while someone else’s observes us, observing them. The ridiculous nature called self, making a mockery of all we preach from the hill tops.

Ask the black men in America killed by the police, ask their family members and they would all say the same. All we wanted was somewhere to call home, to dream dreams and harvest hopes of a brighter tomorrow for the young ones.
Ask the policemen in America killed by a black sniper, ask their family members and they would all say the same. All we wanted was to do our jobs, to keep the peace and guard the properties, to diligently keep the creed to guard the world for the young ones. 

Perhaps the world they sort was not the one they had, who knows. Perhaps the mind was imbibed with a faulty lens through which it viewed the world, who knows. Perhaps they have twisted souls walking around in shells with faulty labels; perhaps they were angels walking around covered in faulty shells, who know. 

Perhaps we should ask another.

Ask the celebrants of Bastille Day, mauled over by a wrecked soul, ask their family members and they would all say the same. All we wanted was to celebrate life, to smile in spite of our fears, to bestow the gift of hope and strength in spirit to the young ones.
Ask the priest going about the daily worship, ask his parishioners and they would all say the same. All we wanted was a world at peace with itself and everyone, where self, gets buried in a quest to discover the eternal father.

We will never know if the world they departed was close to the one they sort, we will never know if those who booked their flights sort  to create a monochrome world or simply scared of other colors outshining the glow of an ideology painted within shuttered minds. Who can we ask? Who has the answer?

Perhaps the woman in Germany, or the teenagers in America?
Perhaps the disabled victims in Japan?
Do they have the answers? Do they understand the great paradigm that is our crazy world now? Do they know where we lost the map to Serengeti?
Perhaps we lost it at the gates of Eden. Perhaps we buried it as we dug a pit to capture our ‘brothers’ on the way to Serengeti. Perhaps we conquered the world but forgot to conquer self the biggest world of them all.

… And so we set up the game with the certainty of victory but we forgot that sage referee called Time and his able assistant Karma, we underestimated their antics and quest for balance. Alas, we are living in Serengeti, it is not elusive.  Sadly we forgot to ask the hare how it feels to watch the lion eat her brother. We forgot to ask the lion how it feels to watch the hyenas devour its mate. We live in Serengeti, beautiful endless plains with stories of horror at night and terrors by day.

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