Young Man! – Sunday Photo Fiction

67-07-july-6th-2014

Rumour has it that the bells of St Christopher’s refused to be tolled since the Reverend de Montfort left to visit his oldest and most far-flung parishioner, Jacob Reader on the afternoon of 25th July last year

The Reverend, an energetic and forthright man was robust, sensible and didn’t suffer fools gladly. As the warden often said, the vicar was definitely not a pushover.

A single man, the Reverend had fended himself all his life, only allowing the Church to fund an office manager so that his diary remained organised and his days well-planned.

So his disappearance was definitely out of character, and his parishioners mourned his loss with vigour.

As the anniversary of the Reverend’s disappearance approached, the men and women of the parish wondered when the Bishop would admit that the beloved clergyman was gone for good.

They were all rudely awoken by celebratory pealing of the church bells as the sun rose on Sunday, 25th July. Reverend d Montfort strode down the village high street, wonder in his eyes, a smile on his lips. On his arm was a beautiful young man, a true Adonis.

“Chris, welcome to my church, my village, my parish. Isn’t it lovely?”

“Oh yes, Robert, it is. Uncle Jake is a lucky, lucky man.”

The parishioners were stunned at the turn of events, but were pleased to have Reverend back and truly happy after all these years. Especially the warden, who said that young Chris was a delight, to anyone that would listen.

 

————–

Here’s my latest entry into Alistair’s Sunday Photo Fiction. He supplies us with his own wonderful photos, so deserves our support! Happy Sunday, all….

Do take part if you have time, or just pop over and read the other entries.

Stoned – Friday Fictioneers

Here is my latest entry into the weekly challenge brought to us by the lovely Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

Here are the rules: Use the photo as inspiration, write a hundred(ish) words – and share! Here goes my offering for this week – and I welcome your comments again!

claire-fuller-3

Copyright – Claire Fuller

“What’s that you’ve got there, then?”

“Go away, it’s mine.”

“Alright! I just wondered what it was. And why you keep on staring at it.”

“Its what they call a mirror.”

“Never heard of such a thing. What does it do?”

“It doesn’t do anything –“

“Oh, yawn, yawn! So dull –“

“If you’ll just listen! Ladies have them, to make themselves beautiful.”

“Oh, well, that’s different then! Give it to me! Perseus will just die if I’m even more pretty!”

No, no, don’t look at your reflection! What about -?!”

Damn. Silly Medusa. Vanity had the last laugh there then. Or rather…

 

 

—-

Click on the blue froggy below to read others’ offerings!

Please Don’t Flush – dVerse

IMG_1529

I am the great restaurant mechanic
computing angels
and giving birth to corpses.
I under-wear overstuffed orphans
who listen to me with their fingers
and replicate my uniqueness,
each copy unlike the other
exactly.
Flying through granite,
lead elevates me
to the next dimension,
marking time with butterflies
and jousting tomatoes,
who smile at me
with luminous plates,
expressive as a pea-souper fog
which, as you know
always sometimes fails
successfully to be heard.
I am the great restaurant mechanic –
wear my sausages with pride!

———-

This week, on dVerse Meeting the Bar, Claudia has asked us to go crazy, throw caution to the winds and connect the unconnectable! Sometimes, making no sense at all makes total, perfect sense.

My offering was written without much concentrated thinking – sometimes I just like to chuck a few words on the screen/page and see what happens.

Please pop over to dVerse to read some excellent poems. Join in – we don’t bite!