Only Joking – Friday Fictioneers

August 14, 2013August 15, 2013freyathewriter 48 Comments

Here is this week’s 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!

– Only Joking –

“Hello? Parking Services?”

“Yes, sir. How may I – ?”

“One of the Parks & Recreation Team blokes just chopped down a tree! And it’s on top of my bloody car!”

“I’m sorry to hear that, sir.”

“You were supposed to tow away any cars parked in my street today. And you haven’t! Why the hell not?”

“Change of policy, sir. The leader of the Council decided it was cheaper and easier to let residents claim on their insurance in these situations, rather than organise for a tow company to take their cars to the pound.”

“Aaaah! I am the leader of the Council, and it was a bloody joke. How stupid can you get?”

“I really couldn’t comment, sir.”

—

Click the blue froggy to read other writers’ offerings – and enjoy!

Jankers – Alastair’s Photo Fiction

August 13, 2013freyathewriter 8 Comments

Here is my offering for Alastair’s Photo Fiction this week, inspired by the photo below. Why not take part? And why not visit his photography and writing blog to take a look at his other photos…?

– Jankers –

All the boys had second jobs when they weren’t on a tour of duty, but no way could you be working in Civvy Street whilst in uniform. Paul pictured his bag of clothes making their merry way on the 6.41am to Swansea without him. What an idiot.

Money was scarce these days, but the sight of his ice cream cart persuaded even the tightest fist to loosen up for a 99-flake, especially at his local hospital’s fundraiser. He scanned the crowds for signs of military bearing amongst the happy family groups. No, he was safe.

Satisfied, he crouched down, rummaging in his cart for more napkins. A shadow grew tall on the grass next to him, ram-rod straight, stretching out forever. Sweat prickled between his shoulder blades. Damn – he couldn’t even look the soldier in the face. If it was his Warrant Officer, he was done for….

“Corporal Jones! What the hell d’you think you’re playing at?”

Paul’s head snapped up, recognising the voice as if it was his own.

“Dad! Thank God! I though I was done for!”

“Here’s a change of clothes, son. Now get a move on before you get caught for real.”

*****

And for those of you scratching your heads at my choice of title this week, take a look here.

Last Chance Saloon – Trifecta Week 90

August 12, 2013August 12, 2013freyathewriter 38 Comments

Below is my offering for Trifecta’s week 90 challenge word, which is ‘grasp’. As you will see from the Trifecta blog post, the challenge is to write between 33 and 333 words of fiction, non-fiction, poetry or prose, based on the 3rd definition from the Merriam Webster’s Online Dictionary. This week the 3rd definition of ‘grasp’ is:

– to lay hold of with the mind : COMPREHEND

Here’s my offering below – I hope you like it! Please check here for the other entries!

*****

– Last Chance Saloon –

Once in a while you see your life for what it really is. Mine’s crappy – that’s me bein’ polite. I could use worse, but them kids are always listenin’.

Tallulah brought me to my senses. I wanted to marry her, back when we were kids. But she kept on sayin’ “You’re such a good friend, Billy” and I would die inside. You don’t marry your friend.

So, I kept shtum, too sappy to open my mouth. It got so that just seein’ her drove me damn near crazy. So, I moved away. Got a job in the mines, made a new life for myself, kinda.

I got paid plenty for the danger and all. Didn’t really care what happened to me, to tell the truth. I was careless, had an accident, got my pal Sammy killed too. I carried that burden around, along with my bad leg. They gave me a job in the manager’s office, I married Sammy’s widow Cally, even took on the kids. Then she died last year havin’ my kid, the mine closed and here we are, just them and me. No money, no future. I just couldn’t grasp the state we were in, how we’d got there. So I did nothin’. Like always.

Then Tallulah appears, like she blew in on the wind. She looks me up and down as I’m huddled over my Scotch, takes two steps and smacks me in the cheek. It damn well hurt – she was a lady, but not lily-livered.

“Billy, I could kill you, but you’ve near enough killed yourself already. Why in hell have you let things get this bad?”

I looked at her, all fine and fragrant and healthy looking, like I used to be. Then I looked at myself in the mirror slung up behind the bar. I looked crappy, like I had nothing to lose. Which I didn’t.

“Will you marry me, Tallulah?”

“What took you so long, Billy?”

I’m guessin’ that’s a yes.

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Tag Flash Fiction

Only Joking – Friday Fictioneers

Here is this week’s 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!

– Only Joking –

“Hello? Parking Services?”

“Yes, sir. How may I – ?”

“One of the Parks & Recreation Team blokes just chopped down a tree! And it’s on top of my bloody car!”

“I’m sorry to hear that, sir.”

“You were supposed to tow away any cars parked in my street today. And you haven’t! Why the hell not?”

“Change of policy, sir. The leader of the Council decided it was cheaper and easier to let residents claim on their insurance in these situations, rather than organise for a tow company to take their cars to the pound.”

“Aaaah! I am the leader of the Council, and it was a bloody joke. How stupid can you get?”

“I really couldn’t comment, sir.”

—

Click the blue froggy to read other writers’ offerings – and enjoy!

Jankers – Alastair’s Photo Fiction

Here is my offering for Alastair’s Photo Fiction this week, inspired by the photo below. Why not take part? And why not visit his photography and writing blog to take a look at his other photos…?

– Jankers –

All the boys had second jobs when they weren’t on a tour of duty, but no way could you be working in Civvy Street whilst in uniform. Paul pictured his bag of clothes making their merry way on the 6.41am to Swansea without him. What an idiot.

Money was scarce these days, but the sight of his ice cream cart persuaded even the tightest fist to loosen up for a 99-flake, especially at his local hospital’s fundraiser. He scanned the crowds for signs of military bearing amongst the happy family groups. No, he was safe.

“Corporal Jones! What the hell d’you think you’re playing at?”

Paul’s head snapped up, recognising the voice as if it was his own.

“Dad! Thank God! I though I was done for!”

“Here’s a change of clothes, son. Now get a move on before you get caught for real.”

Last Chance Saloon – Trifecta Week 90

– to lay hold of with the mind : COMPREHEND

Here’s my offering below – I hope you like it! Please check here for the other entries!

– Last Chance Saloon –

Once in a while you see your life for what it really is. Mine’s crappy – that’s me bein’ polite. I could use worse, but them kids are always listenin’.

Tallulah brought me to my senses. I wanted to marry her, back when we were kids. But she kept on sayin’ “You’re such a good friend, Billy” and I would die inside. You don’t marry your friend.

So, I kept shtum, too sappy to open my mouth. It got so that just seein’ her drove me damn near crazy. So, I moved away. Got a job in the mines, made a new life for myself, kinda.

Then Tallulah appears, like she blew in on the wind. She looks me up and down as I’m huddled over my Scotch, takes two steps and smacks me in the cheek. It damn well hurt – she was a lady, but not lily-livered.

“Billy, I could kill you, but you’ve near enough killed yourself already. Why in hell have you let things get this bad?”

I looked at her, all fine and fragrant and healthy looking, like I used to be. Then I looked at myself in the mirror slung up behind the bar. I looked crappy, like I had nothing to lose. Which I didn’t.

“Will you marry me, Tallulah?”

“What took you so long, Billy?”

I’m guessin’ that’s a yes.

Here is this week’s 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!

– Only Joking –

“Hello? Parking Services?”

“Yes, sir. How may I – ?”

“One of the Parks & Recreation Team blokes just chopped down a tree! And it’s on top of my bloody car!”

“I’m sorry to hear that, sir.”

“You were supposed to tow away any cars parked in my street today. And you haven’t! Why the hell not?”

“Change of policy, sir. The leader of the Council decided it was cheaper and easier to let residents claim on their insurance in these situations, rather than organise for a tow company to take their cars to the pound.”

“Aaaah! I am the leader of the Council, and it was a bloody joke. How stupid can you get?”

“I really couldn’t comment, sir.”

—

Click the blue froggy to read other writers’ offerings – and enjoy!

Share this:

Here is my offering for Alastair’s Photo Fiction this week, inspired by the photo below. Why not take part? And why not visit his photography and writing blog to take a look at his other photos…?

– Jankers –

All the boys had second jobs when they weren’t on a tour of duty, but no way could you be working in Civvy Street whilst in uniform. Paul pictured his bag of clothes making their merry way on the 6.41am to Swansea without him. What an idiot.

Money was scarce these days, but the sight of his ice cream cart persuaded even the tightest fist to loosen up for a 99-flake, especially at his local hospital’s fundraiser. He scanned the crowds for signs of military bearing amongst the happy family groups. No, he was safe.

“Corporal Jones! What the hell d’you think you’re playing at?”

Paul’s head snapped up, recognising the voice as if it was his own.

“Dad! Thank God! I though I was done for!”

“Here’s a change of clothes, son. Now get a move on before you get caught for real.”

Share this:

– to lay hold of with the mind : COMPREHEND

Here’s my offering below – I hope you like it! Please check here for the other entries!

– Last Chance Saloon –

Once in a while you see your life for what it really is. Mine’s crappy – that’s me bein’ polite. I could use worse, but them kids are always listenin’.

Tallulah brought me to my senses. I wanted to marry her, back when we were kids. But she kept on sayin’ “You’re such a good friend, Billy” and I would die inside. You don’t marry your friend.

So, I kept shtum, too sappy to open my mouth. It got so that just seein’ her drove me damn near crazy. So, I moved away. Got a job in the mines, made a new life for myself, kinda.

Then Tallulah appears, like she blew in on the wind. She looks me up and down as I’m huddled over my Scotch, takes two steps and smacks me in the cheek. It damn well hurt – she was a lady, but not lily-livered.

“Billy, I could kill you, but you’ve near enough killed yourself already. Why in hell have you let things get this bad?”

I looked at her, all fine and fragrant and healthy looking, like I used to be. Then I looked at myself in the mirror slung up behind the bar. I looked crappy, like I had nothing to lose. Which I didn’t.

“Will you marry me, Tallulah?”

“What took you so long, Billy?”

I’m guessin’ that’s a yes.

Share this: