Dumped

58-05-may-4th-2014

“Those damned scrap merchants are at it again. Dumping their stuff in our car park whilst they gallivant around the town! Mr Fletcher is going to go crazy! Jason, why haven’t you been keeping things under control?”

“Ah, Dad, that ain’t fair! You’ve had me chasing round this stupid car park all bloody day. It’s been chucking it down with rain and you’ve been up in the office, all cozy and warm, drinking coffee!”

“Less of your cheek, boy. And whilst we’re on duty, it’s Mr Allen to you, not ‘Dad’. Fletcher Park & Ride is a stickler for procedure.”

“Dad. I think – “

“Shush! I’m on the phone to ‘Crush & Burn’. I’m sick of these people, messing up our car parks, taking all the spaces and -“

“But Dad!”

But Dad just wouldn’t listen. He shooed his son away, intent on his revenge. They’d regret parking here, once they returned to find their precious cargo gone, crushed into a small cube of metal and wood and carted off to the dump.

Jason sighed, picturing the scene at home – a broken back door, TV, fridge and freezer gone, and now crushed beyond redemption. Mum would go crazy, never mind Mr Fletcher….

————–

I decided to follow last weekend’s footsteps into Alistair’s Sunday Photo Fiction  again, and get creative in a non-poetic way. This week, the story hasn’t been so obvious as my family history piece last week, but hopefully, it still entertained you all!

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

Blueprint – Friday Fictioneers

Here is my late 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!

old-building-staircase

Copyright – Rochelle!

– Blueprint –

Of course, they thought of it as a cruel and unusual punishment, something in which they had delighted since 1933.

Hire a Jewish architect to draw up the plans, engage a firm of Jewish builders, take on Jewish craftsmen. Everyone knew the purpose behind the building – it was the Nazi regime’s pride and joy.

The HQ of the Third Reich’s railway system was a grand affair. The hub of their efficient cargo transportation across the continent of Europe, Poland a special destination.

The workers were just grey, miserable, expendable creatures. The grill pattern in the stairwell, their final, finishing touch…

—-

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

Dead-Line

With my word-weaver
clasped tightly,
fingers sweat with effort to complete
the task laid before me.
I lasso the thoughts
pouring from imagination-central
knowing all the while that
the hands of the space-marker
sweep too fast –
there is no leeway,
I cannot knee-bend for
grace and favour.
‘Tsk! Tsk!’
bony digits admonish,
epithet-hurlers curl
ready to strike.
‘Axe-wield afore clock-strike!’
Is all they will say.

Dead-Line

*****

This week, Bjorn, our host at dVerse Meeting the Bar has introduced us to the concept of kennings. To quote Bjorn, ‘a kenning is a very brief metaphoric phrase or compound word and it means “to know”‘. It comes originally from Icelandic, but also exists in other languages such as Swedish and German. I can also tell you that ‘I ken’ is also used in Scots dialect in the same way! So, in brief, it is a way of using a compound phrase in place of the normal word in use.

I really enjoyed this – although it was quite tough to get my brain into the right gear! I hope my offering has worked – do let me know what you think.