Once upon a time …
Not good, begin anew.
The young man …
No, start again.
The girl was …
Still not right.
They stood ….
Muse, help me!
Yes, got it!
Damn, outa’ words.
It was a perfect summer’s day. They wandered hand in hand around the enchanted garden stopping now and then to look into each other’s eyes and embrace.
Serenaded by songbirds, wrapped in the warmth of the sun, intoxicated by the feelings they had for each other, they were swathed in emotion.
He picked a fragrant bloom and placed it in her hair, held a buttercup beneath her chin, and made a chain of daisies to hang around her neck.
She plucked a blushing apple from a stooping bough and they each took a bite.
Never again were they seen in the garden.
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting and to J Hardy Carroll for the picture.
Prod the frogs to see what others have come up with!
‘You said we were having CCTV installed’
‘It’s cheaper than a security camera!’
‘Do you honestly believe a face on a tree will deter burglars?’
‘Well, they’ll think they are being watched’.
‘You’ll be telling me it’ll shout at them next!’
‘Of course not, trees don’t talk they bark! Get it? Bark!’
‘You are so funny … not!’
‘Seriously though, I’ll sort out the CCVT tomorrow, I promise’.
In the early hours of the morning, they were woken by loud yapping.
‘Don’t tell me, that’s your tree’ groaned Sally.
‘What?’ yawned Mike.
‘Never mind, go back to sleep’.
Overnight there was a spate of robberies in their street. Next door even had their security camera stolen!
‘See, it worked’.
‘The face, it scared the villains away and we lost nothing.’
‘I hate to tell you this’ said Sally peering out of the window.
‘The tree’s gone. How did that happen?’
‘Goodness knows. I’m stumped! Get it … tree stump!’
‘It’s not a laughing matter Mike’.
‘You said you were getting a garden table’.
‘This is cheaper than one from the store’.
‘It’s a tea tray screwed to the tree stump’.
‘Okay Sally, I’ll get a table tomorrow, I promise’.
Thanks to Donna for hosting and to DC Stultz for the photo
A moving stairway carries me down. I’m in a tunnel. To my left, right, behind me and before, a silent hoard stands motionless, like discarded statues.
A rush of wind ruffles my hair. A rumble becomes a roar. A massive silver snake rattles to a halt. Doors hiss open, like gaping mouths. A surging mass escapes, buffeting me in its frantic bid for freedom.
I am carried forward by a throng, about to be devoured. We are crammed, like sardines in a can. A jerk. I grip a post. We sway as one. Nobody speaks.
‘We are approaching Angel’ shrieks a robotic voice.
Free at last.
‘Climb aboard The Pink Lady’ called the captain.
‘Don’t mind if I do!’ chortled George eyeing up the girl in front wearing fuchsia shorts.
‘Behave!’ said wifey Beryl bopping him on the arm.
The little pink ferry chug-chugged its way across the bay.
‘Welcome to Paradise’ shouted the captain. ‘‘Enjoy the beach and marvel at the sights’.
‘I certainly shall’ guffawed Beryl, spotting a handsome chap in tight yellow Speedos.
‘Now-now!’ said George, pinching her nose.
Fushia Shorts and Yellow Speedos dashed towards each other and embraced.
‘Looks like we’re stuck with each other’ chuckled Beryl giving George a juicy peck on the cheek.
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting and to CEAyr for the picture.
Prod Captain Frog to join in the fun!
Doug the Tug was bored. He was bored most days. He led a shallow life either tied to a pillar in the harbour or venturing out a little way to pull a ship home. He envied vessels that travelled in deep waters, frolicking with waves and racing dolphins; luxury liners and their exotic locations, cargo ships piled high with containers. And tankers, or cross-channel ferry even. Trawlers had more fun than him, their decks being tickled by wriggling fish.
One day he was woken from his dreams by a tap on his bow. It was his friend Mary the Mermaid.
‘Doug, there’s a beautiful yacht stranded offshore with a broken mast. Larry the Lifeboat’s busy so I said you’d help. Please come’.
Doug didn’t need much persuading!
Charlotte the Yacht was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It was love at first sight. but she was used to sailing with the elite craft, not a scruffy working-class tug like Doug. But he needn’t have worried, she was captivated by his smile and in no time he was heaving her home.
Nowadays, when Charlotte’s not at sea they bob up and down together on the quayside remembering the day they tied the knot!
Thanks to Donna for hosting, and providing the photo.
for Sue Vincent’s #writephoto Photo Prompt
Flames licked the smoke-filled night sky. Banging, crackling, and the sound of exploding windows echoed all around. Shards of glass flew through the air as flaming masonry crashed to the ground shooting showers of orange sparks skyward. Convinced everybody had escaped unharmed, the firemen scurried from the burning apartment block, their suits blackened by the inferno still raging within.
‘Stand well back’ shouted the Fire Chief as a massive explosion shook the very ground they stood on, and balls of fire rained down from on high.
‘He’s coming round’.
The paramedics were risking their lives staying so close to the scene whilst tending a man trapped under fallen brickwork. ‘Quiet everyone. He’s trying to say something. John, can you hear me? What are you trying to tell us?’
‘Get Carol, I beg you’ he cried.
‘Where is she, John?’
‘Up there. Just get my little girl’ he whimpered. ‘Please’.
‘The poor little thing’s only seven’ shouted a voice from the crowd.
‘I can hear someone’ a person yelled.
‘So can I’ called another.
‘Kill the pumps. Silence everyone’ hollered the Fire Chief.
A plaintive cry came from on high and all eyes stared up at the only part of the block that had so far escaped the flames. A tiny face appeared.
‘Daddy, Daddy. Where are you?’
‘We can’t reach her, there’s no choice, she’ll have to jump’. The firemen stretched their net. ‘Jump child, jump now’.
She pulled herself onto a window ledge then screamed as she leapt into the air.
John raised an arm. Then it dropped to the ground. His eyes closed. He was gone.
Exactly twenty have passed since that day. A young lady enters a garden where the apartment block once stood. She places a bunch of flowers on a bench and gently strokes the words carved into its backrest.
‘Daddy, we passed each other as you flew to heaven. Carol x’ .
I like proper telephones with curly cables. I feel more connected to the person the other end. It’s like having them on a leash!
I got myself a cheap mobile yesterday. Just now it beeped. Vibrated too. It was a text.
‘hi k. c-in m tomoz. 4t u mite cum 2. luv R’
I assumed it was Rosey. I tried replying using something called predictive text.
‘Hell raspberry. Watch yolk massage abort? I did nut undertake it. Plaice cool me. Key.’
It was worse than the one I got from her! Fortunately, a couple of minutes later she called me on my landline!
Click the frog to join in the fun!
Ten minutes before midnight. Just moments away from a new year.
She stands in darkness atop a hill, an icy wind chilling her face, her hair streaming behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she watches another year blow away taking with it broken promises, unhappy memories and shattered dreams.
As angry black clouds scurry from sight a new moon appears spreading a silver carpet of hope at her feet. Her long dark shadow tumbles away into past.
Suddenly all is calm. She gazes toward the future. Another year arrives. Another chance to start her life anew.
Everyone said he married her for her money. Patrick naturally denied it. They appeared happy. Not demonstrably so, but they did all the things married couples do. No children though. A shame really, because he was great with kids. Susanna disliked being around them; she once called mine noisy brats. I’ll never forget that.
Of late, we sensed something wasn’t right. He looked dejected; disinterested in everything that went on around him. Not Susanna thought. She was her usual raucous self, dominating everything she was involved in. But Patrick just sat there. If he said anything she’d stare at him.
We were invited round for drinks on New Year’s Eve. Apparently, It was Partick’s idea. Guess he’d put his foot down. He’d had more than enough of being controlled. Surprisingly it was a really festive occasion. I’d not seen him as upbeat for years. For once Susanna took a back seat.
As the clock signalled midnight, Patrick proposed a toast. Holding aloft his glass. he said the New Year was one to look forward and forever remember.
One thing I’ll always remember was Susanna taking a sip of Martini, clutching her throat then collapsing in a heap on the floor.
Wishing our host Donna a very Happy New Year.
Photo by jfelias @ Morguefile