Polishing

12 noon

August 14, 1996

Army foundation college

Harrogate, North Yorkshire.

Standing at attention, the young recruits listened with rapt attention to the training orders reeled out to them. His voice was loud, clear and his words precise, but they all knew i.e. both him and the recruits that many would fail at the task. The problem wasn’t so much in the difficulty of the task rather in their inability to retain every detail of the instruction under such intense conditions. 

He had no such issues, every instruction was filed away in a folder, sequentially saved and earmarked for execution at the given time. He wanted to impress his superiors, to inspire his colleagues perhaps cause some of them to envy him too. This was his time to lay an unshakable foundation.

As the training washed off the sandy layers of his colleagues purifying them for servitude to God and queen, it polished the brilliance of his revenge.

Not today, not tomorrow but soon in the distant future, he would turn their guns against them.

Copyright The storyteller’s abode

 


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 Louise @ The storyteller’s abode (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. 

Tumultuous night

Luminous cracks rent the troposphere,

for a second time tonight the earth is charged with venomous steps

a thunder of innocent blood roars for peace.

three line tales, week 29 – purple lightning

Copyright Breno Machado 

Arrggghhh! What were they playing at now?

They were wrecking havoc to his water bed, it rocked too much for his aging back.

‘Hades! Zeus! Please take your power tussles far from my shores or else …’


Written for Sonya’s TLT challenge – week twenty-nine.

 

 

 

Rough diamond

A diamond in the rough, that’s every scouts dream, to discover that elusive talent hidden in obscurity.

The darker and haggard the rough, the greater the uproar of discovery.

The rough in the diamond, that’s every managers’ nightmare, to gloss over the cracks and aggrandize the talent.

The wider and deeper the crack, the greater the need to bury its existence in obscurity.

Billy-Joe: died 11:45 PM, August 14, 1980.

A diamond in the rough, who wouldn’t let the rough go.

PHOTO PROMPT © Janet Webb
Copyright Janet Webb

Written for Friday fictioneers a writing challenge hosted by Rochelle. The picture was provided by Janet Webb, 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.

Open Friday night

Everyone, I mean everyone loves open night Fridays at Funky munky pub.

It’s something to look forward to, loud music, pure unadulterated ale, lovely ladies with no strings attached. Different shapes and sizes to please everyone’s appetite. 

There was no need for prolonged chats or engaging conversations to source out a prime partner, everything is said with a sly look here and a hand rub there. Effective communication and satisfaction guaranteed.

I asked for Nicola next Open Friday night, no one answered.

But I couldn’t shake Nicola’s sultry eyes, so I pressed further. Frankie said she was in the chimney. That wasn’t any better, so I asked about the other girls he said they were in the recycle, they hadn’t tried to make personal contact with the client. He said to relax the green blinds were up on the left window so we would get fresh stock tonight.

Open Friday nights were spectacular, the preserve of Funky munky  patrons. No one gets to know.


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 TJ Paris (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. 

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.

alleyway-71230_1280
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.

Mathematical football.

They pass the balls in a triangular pattern, I am not sure they know this, nor do they do it consciously. Sometimes it’s an isosceles triangle, other times it’s an equilateral one. But they tend to succeed or score a goal as they call when they form a scalene triangle.

I have thought about why that is, I mean why the scalene triangle works better and I have decided it’s because no one really knows who will be part of the triangle until the last minute. Sometimes it does backfire, an opponent intersects the ball before it gets to the third angle. Just like intersecting lines in my textbook. I do enjoy watching them, and plotting triangles as they play, well they call it play, I call it unnecessary physical contact and misappropriation of mathematical skills.

Mum says I should join them.

But I can’t, their uniform is all wrong. White reflects all the colours like a rainbow, which is intolerable and blue has too short a wavelength. Perhaps if it was yellow or orange I might have tried, if only to wear my favourite colours while forming triangles.

 


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 Yinglan (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. 

Entranced

Adelaide sat on her portmanteau waiting for Uncle John, feasting her eyes full of the town. So many buildings in one place, not a single one short of visitors. Mama warned her off rowdy buildings and crowds. Right now that probably meant every building in sight. But mama had said nothing about fellows with shoulders like bulwarks sauntering through town as though confidence was their proverbial preserve.

He tipped his hat, she tipped weak knees.

Perhaps mama should have spent more time warning her off men whose mere presence erased every sense of geography and decorum.

Copyright-Ted Strutz
Copyright Ted Strutz

Written for Friday fictioneers a writing challenge hosted by Rochelle. The picture was provided by Ted Strutz, 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.