Wednesday, 23 December 2020

FISHUN' - 100 word story

This week's Friday Fictioneer's photo prompt was enigmatic to say the least! Hope you enjoy my take on it.

Oh, and isn't this a strange festive season? Hope your Christmas is as enjoyable as feasible in the circumstances. Take care!


PHOTO PROMPT © Trish Nankivell



FISHUN'

 

 

“Hiya, Abe.” Mikey dumped his gear on the ground.

“Hiya, Mikey,” said Abe, settling back on his stool.

“Any luck yet?” said Mikey.

“Nuthin’.”

Mikey assembled his rod and sat on the bank. “Grand mornin’ for it, Abe.”

“That it is.”

The men fell silent. Encompassed in their separate worlds like a pair of meditating buddhas, accompanied by soft birdsong and the occasional splash.

Eventually Mikey broke the silence.

“Well now, Abe. What about your sign then?”

“Hmm?”

“Up on the road. Sure, isn’t it a little… enigmatic, like?”

“Here’s the thing, Mikey. I didn’t know how to spell fishun'.”

 

 

I hope you enjoyed reading this and I look forward to your comments. 


If you wish to read more Friday Fictioneers stories, you can find them listed HERE


If you'd like to join in the challenge, you'll find all the information posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields 


- her blog is listed on 'My Blog List' on the right hand side of this page.


On a final note - I always attempt to visit the blogs of everyone who comments on mine. If I haven't commented on yours it's either because I haven't been redirected to your blog when I've clicked on your name or because you have a wordpress account that requires me to sign into wordpress first. 
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Wednesday, 16 December 2020

A DISTRACTION - 100 word story

This week's Friday Fictioneers photo prompt helped me to write a story about Leprechaun Paddy who is still trying to solve the problem of retrieving his Pot of Gold from the human, Batty Patty.


PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook




A DISTRACTION

 

 

‘A distraction?’ said McSpud, adjusting his tall green hat.

‘Ye, a distraction,’ said Paddy. ‘The human nutjob, Batty Patty, still has my Pot of Gold. I want you to create a distraction while I nip into her kitchen and grab my Pot.’  

McSpud saluted Paddy with his tankard of poitin. ‘Sure, I’m your man, Paddy.’

‘Good. Meet me in her garden at sunset.’

 

Paddy arrived in Batty Patty’s garden. But where was McSpud? Paddy heard rustling in Patty’s shrubbery. An apparition emerged. Paddy fell backwards.

The apparition chuckled.

‘McSpud?’

‘I’m after thinking a scarecrow will make a grand distraction.’

Paddy sighed.

 


I hope you enjoyed reading this and I look forward to your comments. 


If you wish to read more Friday Fictioneers stories, you can find them listed HERE


If you'd like to join in the challenge, you'll find all the information posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields 


- her blog is listed on 'My Blog List' on the right hand side of this page.


On a final note - I always attempt to visit the blogs of everyone who comments on mine. If I haven't commented on yours it's either because I haven't been redirected to your blog when I've clicked on your name or because you have a wordpress account that requires me to sign into wordpress first. 
Please check and amend your settings. Thanks.











Wednesday, 2 December 2020

PADDY'S PROBLEM

 An intriguing photo of a piece of string was this week's Friday Fictioneers photo prompt. I hope you enjoy my take on it which is a sequel to last week's Leprechaun story, but also hopefully stands alone too.


photo prompt: CE Ayr


PADDY’S PROBLEM

 

‘Seamus took your Pot of Gold again, Paddy?’ said McSpud.

‘Ye, the gobshite hid it in a garden, and the human found it.’

McSpud shook his head. ‘That’s bad.’

 ‘They call her Batty Patty because she’s a nutjob. My Pot’s sitting on her kitchen window sill. I’m waiting for her to open the window.’

‘But how will you reach it?’

‘Rope.’

‘Rope?’

‘Ye, I’ll lasso it.’

‘That’s a grand idea, Paddy.’ McSpud paused. ‘But… if she’s a nutjob…’

‘I know.’ Paddy sighed. ‘May she be plagued with a powerful itch…’

‘And never have the nails to scratch it,’ riposted McSpud.



I love the way the Irish express themselves. I've been waiting for the right opportunity to use this particular curse. I hope you enjoyed reading this and I look forward to your comments. 


If you wish to read more Friday Fictioneers stories, you can find them listed HERE


If you'd like to join in the challenge, you'll find all the information posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields 


- her blog is listed on 'My Blog List' on the right hand side of this page.


On a final note - I always attempt to visit the blogs of everyone who comments on mine. If I haven't commented on yours it's either because I haven't been redirected to your blog when I've clicked on your name or because you have a wordpress account that requires me to sign into wordpress first. 
Please check and amend your settings. Thanks.










Wednesday, 25 November 2020

THE SPRAIN OF DESTINY - 100 word story

I wasn't planning to participate in this week's Friday Fictioneers because I've just bought a new laptop and need a day or two to transfer my files. But then I saw a photo of my foot! Well I couldn't not write a story, could I? And it seemed appropriate to return to some old friends.




The Sprain of Destiny


When Batty Patty sprained her ankle tripping over a Leprechaun's Pot of Gold in her garden she was thrilled.

She cradled the Pot in wonder. This was acknowledgement by the Little Folk that she was a kindred spirit. This was destiny. Why else would they give her this gift?

... ... ... 

Paddy the Leprechaun peeped through Patty's cat flap in alarm. How had this woman even seen his Pot? It was supposed to be invisible to humans! And how the feck would he retrieve it while she was cuddling it?

Damn that gobshite Seamus for hiding Paddy's Pot in a nutjob's garden.




I hope you enjoyed this story and I look forward to your comments. 


If you wish to read more Friday Fictioneers stories, you can find them listed HERE


If you'd like to join in the challenge, you'll find all the information posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields 


- her blog is listed on 'My Blog List' on the right hand side of this page.


On a final note - I always attempt to visit the blogs of everyone who comments on mine. If I haven't commented on yours it's either because I haven't been redirected to your blog when I've clicked on your name or because you have a wordpress account that requires me to sign into wordpress first. 
Please check and amend your settings. Thanks.










Wednesday, 18 November 2020

HOUSE SHADOWS - 100 word story

 This week's Friday Fictioneers photo prompt supplied by Sarah Potter led me down a potentially spooky path.




House shadows



The light drained from the sky like someone opening a vein. Our world turned monochrome. I shivered.

'You okay?' said Robbie.

Shadowy movements in the garden.

'It's just the wind,' said Robbie.

The night thickened with cold.

'They got bears hereabouts?'

Robbie huffed. 'You crazy?'

'Well.'

'We need firewood.' He went outside.

Minutes passed. I finally cracked open the door. 'Robbie?'

A thump.

'Robbie? Are you messing with me?'

A barnacled shadow moved on the edge of vision. I heard saw-toothed voices and slammed the door shut. Heavy footsteps on the deck.

I waited for the door to open.


I hope you enjoyed this story and I look forward to your comments. 


If you wish to read more Friday Fictioneers stories, you can find them listed HERE


If you'd like to join in the challenge, you'll find all the information posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields 


- her blog is listed on 'My Blog List' on the right hand side of this page.


On a final note - I always attempt to visit the blogs of everyone who comments on mine. If I haven't commented on yours it's either because I haven't been redirected to your blog when I've clicked on your name or because you have a wordpress account that requires me to sign into wordpress first. 
Please check and amend your settings. Thanks.










Wednesday, 11 November 2020

LEST SHE FORGET - 100 word story

My first reaction when I saw this weeks' Friday Fictioneers photo prompt was: oh, I'm not ready to write a Christmas story. But today (the eleventh) is Armistice Day and found I was able to weave a story around both events. 





LEST SHE FORGET




'Not possible.'

'But, Peter...'

'It's November, Annie.'

'But, Peter...' Annie's eyes filled with tears.

Peter softened his tone. 'Nothing's ready yet, Annie.'

Annie gulped. 'Just a little bit of holly then?'

'Not for another three weeks.'

Dejected, the old lady left the garden centre.

Peter watched her go. He knew her story. She'd lost her husband many Christmases ago. He understood that putting up Christmas decorations was Annie's way of celebrating his memory, but what could he do? The trees, the holly, the mistletoe: nothing was available yet.

He looked up at his pine tree and had an idea.




I hope you enjoyed this story and I look forward to your comments. 


If you wish to read more Friday Fictioneers stories, you can find them listed HERE


If you'd like to join in the challenge, you'll find all the information posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields 


- her blog is listed on 'My Blog List' on the right hand side of this page.


On a final note - I always attempt to visit the blogs of everyone who comments on mine. If I haven't commented on yours it's either because I haven't been redirected to your blog when I've clicked on your name or because you have a wordpress account that requires me to sign into wordpress first. 
Please check and amend your settings. Thanks.










Wednesday, 21 October 2020

ARTWORK - 100 word story

This week's Friday Fictioneer's photo prompt didn't give me any immediate inspiration. I left it to my subconscious to get to work and here's the result. 


PHOTO PROMPT – © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields


ARTWORK


She needed to move her latest body. But she was too busy. Who knew running a B&B to supplement her income would take up so much of her precious time?

These current guests were driving her barmy. So bloody demanding. We don't eat gluten. We don't eat dairy. We don't eat fruit.

She laid the breakfast table, muttering curses. Just one more, 'we don't eat...' and they'd end up wrapped in clay.

They ate. They left. Peace at last.

She returned to her latest body of work. Caressed the clay. It was probably her best sculpture yet.



I hope you enjoyed this story and I look forward to your comments. 


If you wish to read more Friday Fictioneers stories, you can find them listed HERE


If you'd like to join in the challenge, you'll find all the information posted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields 


- her blog is listed on 'My Blog List' on the right hand side of this page.


On a final note - I always attempt to visit the blogs of everyone who comments on mine. If I haven't commented on yours it's either because I haven't been redirected to your blog when I've clicked on your name or because you have a wordpress account that requires me to sign into wordpress first. 
Please check and amend your settings. Thanks.