My wife is obsessed with cleaning. Hoover here, scrub there, wash the garden path, shampoo the cat. The other day she had her head in the washing machine. ‘What are you doing?’ I said. ‘Washing it,’ she said ‘your filthy clothes have been in here’ Last week she complained the flower beds looked… Continue reading Sunday Photo Fiction
In the mansion beyond the red brick wall fires crackled, tables groaned with food and servants fetched and carried. Daily, footmen prepared the master’s carriage for his visit to the factory where he walked between clanging machines, his loyal workers stooping as he passed. Days were good back then. Five scruffy urchins played in… Continue reading Friday Fictioneers
Little Millie has a special talent. She can wiggle her nose at a flower bud, and watch it open. If she frowns at an ugly slug it slithers off as fast as its slime can carry it. She can smile at a spider and sit down beside her, and get her to tickle her… Continue reading Sunday Photo Fiction
Friday Fictioneers . . Is the palette level? Near enough Good, We’ll put pipes along the bottom then another palette on top. Great idea. Let's put some twigs there, then this palette. No, that one. OK, now some guttering, then the palette I was originally going to use. Looking good. Next, this one, then some… Continue reading 100 Words
He rose at dawn, tidied the lounge and polished the silver. He ironed the newspaper, prepared breakfast, opened the curtains, greeted his Master, laid out his clothes, and ran his bath. Butterworth was a loyal worker, but under-appreciated. Soon he would leave, unannounced. He rose at dawn, tidied the lounge and polished the silver. He… Continue reading Friday Fictioneers
Beatrice returned home having enjoyed tea, finger sandwiches and dainty cakes with her lady friends. She swept through the front door and glided down the hall brushing a speck of dust from a shelf and straightening a vase as she passed. ‘I’m home George’ she sang as she entered the lounge. Her smile dissolved… Continue reading Sunday Photo Fiction
Sunday Photo Fiction Billy’s ambition was to be a famous ventriloquist and perform on the stage of a West End theatre. He made it to the West End, but only to the pavement outside a theatre where he stood with one hand up a monkey puppet’s bottom, the other shielding his mouth. He called… Continue reading It’s Sunday again!
. The door flew open and in he hopped. ‘Hi, I’m Cassidy. I’ve lost a leg. I had too many at the pub last night and got legless, literally’ ‘Let’s see’ said Lost-Property-Man scrolling down his computer screen. ‘Pro...pros...prosthetics. I’ve got an arm, an ear, a glass eye.. ah, a left leg!’ ‘Mines a… Continue reading Friday Fictioneers.
Sunday Photo Fiction Hey Peggy, guess what! Well, Jacky from number 582, saw her from 595 sneaking into number 593. There’s obviously something going on. Annie from 610 agrees. Trotting up the road before 593’s wife is barely out of sight isn’t on, is it? Look, there’s Janet from number 618 – Janet, come… Continue reading A 200 word story
Friday Fictioneers I just sang Walk on By and they walked on by. I used to have a studio. I made records, sold lots. I filled halls, played festivals. Now look at me. In my guitar case, there’s just a few coppers, a pound coin and screwed-up chocolate wrapper. See him, posing for selfies?… Continue reading A 100 Word Story