Tag Sheep

Eyes Right – Friday Fictioneers

freyathewriter 28 Comments

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!

I walk across London Bridge to work each morning, and some days, the bridge and all beyond is shrouded in fog or mist. It has crossed my mind that we are so trusting, to expect that the bridge, and everything on the other side, is indeed, still there….

sheep-and-car

Copyright – Sandra Crook

– Eyes Right –

They follow one another like lambs.

Fog. It had descended in the night hours when Death beckons. I had been awake in my glass-encased penthouse, Scotch swirling in lead crystal. It had struck me as vaguely curious, but then I turned my back, returned to my dealings, turned on by money.

There were no footsteps on London Bridge – which my subconscious expected. I returned to the window. The fog rose. London Bridge was gone, and all that remained of those sheep was their detritus bobbing on the Thames below.

It pays to have your wits about you in the City.

—-

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

After Magritte – VisDare 34

freyathewriter 9 Comments

Here’s my latest offering for Anonymous Legacy‘s photo-inspired prompt, VisDare. This week’s prompt word is ‘Fearless’. The rules are simple:

150 words – or less.

Post entry to your blog and “link in”.

(Please – no erotica or graphic violence.)

DON’T FORGET to read and comment on others’ entries!!

The photo is below, and my piece follows. Let me know what you think, and give it a go yourself, why not?

– After Magritte – 

“I call it ‘Ceci n’est pas une sheep’. It’s an homage to the great artist himself.”

“But I don’t understand. It clearly is a sheep. It’s not a representation, which I believe was Magritte’s point. There is a living, breathing and – oh God! -defecating sheep on the dining table!”

The silence yawned wide between us. I could tell she was terrified that she had called me on my explanation – admirably courageous of her. I suppressed a smile – it was much too soon. Exploring all of these different art forms, sharing them with the media, was doing wonders for my reputation.

“All I will say is that you are searching amongst the obvious. I see you are still learning about this world we call… Art.”

The look on her face as she scribbled down her notes – it will last me a long time. Until we meet again.