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This above all; to thine own self be true. 
William Shakespeare

FRIDAY NIGHT ~ 16th  JANUARY 2016

18/1/2016

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Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers ~ Writing challenge.
https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com
Hosted by Priceless Joy.
The goal is to write a story between 100-150 words (give or take 25 words) based on the provided photo.
Picture
Picture © Etol Bagam
FRIDAY NIGHT
by John Yeo

   Bill entered the  bar and spat on the wooden floor. A gooey green mess landed at the feet of a woman, seated at a wooden table.  The heavy makeup she wore hid the hard, world-weary face.  Bill, adjusted his trousers, balanced on an ample waistline. Lank, greasy black hair hung beneath a grubby hat.
   “What the heck? You dirty, lousy, good for nothing!” Lucy spat right back into his bleary red-rimmed, black eyes.
 Bill took a wild swing, with his right hand, a sledgehammer of a fist missed by a mile. He cursed loudly, then doubled up in pain as Lucy kicked him square in the groin.
  A nasty shouting and screaming row developed. Bill wildly attempted to grab a fist full of Lucy’s long brown hair as her sharp, finger-nails gouged tracks across his already scarred face.
The bar swiftly emptied as the police arrived, to end this public dispute.
   Bill’s final words to Lucy were “Where’s my dinner?” The couple walked off arm-in-arm.
   “Happens every Friday night!” said the barman to the policeman.



(174 WORDS)

Copyright  ©. Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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GROUND CONTROL ~14th JANUARY2015

15/1/2016

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A Prompt response for Inspiration Monday: 'Ground Control'
http://bekindrewrite.com
​
Images © Copyright John and Margaret
​

ENCLOSURE
by John Yeo

   “I used to be able to walk for miles through grassy fields, just enjoying the seasons turning around in the perennial cycle of life, death and birth. Wildlife was prolific in those days, the hedgerows would be full of birdsong and interesting little rustles and sounds of scampering and scurrying little feet. I would take a pen and a notebook to record my thoughts, sometimes a piece of poetry would seep into a corner of my mind and I would hastily sit on the grass and put pen to paper. There were times I would sit and sketch  Many a time, I have been caught in a storm and hastened to the nearest hedgerow and dived beneath the bushes and elderberry trees seeking shelter. Mostly I remember sunny days, cloudless blue skies, and perennial wildflowers everywhere. Life drifted on smoothly, with the peace to ramble the fields and think alone.Then came men with guns, and fences appeared, with signs that warned. ‘Private Property. No Trespassing, Keep Out.” Life became restricted to tiny pathways of muddy footpaths sometimes overgrown and impassable. The times had changed and brought Ground Control with fenced enclosure.” 
     
“Yes, Mr Robinson, now try to rest before ward rounds and the doctor arrives.”  A busy nurse bustled in and tidied up his bed.
   
“Now I have this harsh dementia and my short-term memory is gone, at least I can stroll  those bygone lanes again in my mind, nurse.”  
   “Yes, Mr Robinson, try to rest now.”
   
“I feel as if my mind is fenced and restricted, I can no longer freely think and enjoy the world of now, I am restricted to tiny foggy footpaths of memory, sometimes overgrown and impassable. I feel I am grounded, not in control, fenced in by the evil of dementia.”
   
“Yes, Mr Robinson, do you need the commode now?”
      
“No thanks nurse, I think I will sleep for a while.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~All rights reserved.

Picture
Image © Copyright John and Margaret
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WEIGHTLESSNESS ~6TH JANUARY 2016

8/1/2016

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Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers ~ Writing challenge.
https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com
Hosted by Priceless Joy.
The goal is to write a story between 100-150 words (give or take 25 words) based on the provided photo.
Picture
Image provided by Pixabay.com
WEIGHTLESSNESS
by John Yeo

   “Ferdinand, I have to go to Weightwatchers this morning, I have a weigh-in.  Last week I came out two pounds over my recommended body-weight. I keep telling that gruesome coordinator that I am heavy boned, and the more calcium I ingest the heavier I become. I think I will have to consider some elementary changes to decrease my bone-density. I was far heavier when I wore flesh, l needed a lot of food-intake to keep the whole apparatus alive.”
   “Yes Esmeralda my dear.” Thought Ferdinand, breaking into the interminable flow of thoughts.
  “Have you seen my robes? I will need to cover up if I am to leave the crypt, I am sure they are around somewhere. Last time I wore them was on Halloween night when we went out haunting together. I do resent having to go all the way to a public crypt to a Weight Watchers session. The rattle of all those dangling bones would be unbearable if we had any ears to hear with."
“Yes Esmeralda my dear.” Ferdinand replied.


(174 WORDS)

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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THE ERUPTION ~ 5TH JANUARY 2016

6/1/2016

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A Prompt response for Inspiration Monday: The Crater Wakening
http://bekindrewrite.com
​
Picture
Image from the net
THE ERUPTION
by John Yeo

   It was the swinging sixties everything was possible, life was exciting and definitely for living. James, Ruth, and Marg, were inseparable, they got through college together, gaining very high grades. The three friends were from the suburbs of London, the area in Surrey known as the Stockbroker belt. All three friends had the same interests and had unanimously decided to study geology at University.
    It was Marg’s idea to take a gap year first, Marg had no trouble persuading her Father to fund her adventure. Marg had always been Daddy's little girl.
     “Dad, I want to go to Costa Rica to see the volcanic crater Iratsu, to give me a basic knowledge before I study to become a volcanologist.”
     “Will you be going alone?” asked her father cautiously.
   “No Dad, I hope not, Ruth is asking her parents, and James is certain to be going.  I am sure he will, He has a substantial allowance and he will be paying his own way.”
    “I have no objections, if you are all going together.” said her father.
   Six months later found the three friends staying in a hotel in San Jose, just 24 kilometres from   the volcano, they had purchased camping equipment and began trekking through the stunning rainforest towards their goal. The green cultivated fields leading to the rim of the crater were a beautiful fertile introduction to the stunning beauty that was to come. When they reached their goal the beauty was mind blowing.  
   Ruth was stunned, “Look at the pool in the crater and the vegetation!”
  There was an ominous rumble, almost on cue. “Wow!”  exclaimed James. ”I wonder if we are going to witness an eruption? That hotel manager did warn us that the volcano has been rumbling lately!”
   Ruth was warily dismissive when she replied, “ Yes! He also said there have been rumbles for quite some time.”
 There followed another rumble from the depths of the crater and a distinct tremor, as the three friends took in the astonishing beauty of this volcanic crater.
    Marg then broke in and said. “I think we had better get away from here fast. Let’s head back to San Jose! I have an idea we should be somewhere safe for the time being.”
  Another rumble and a tremor sent the friends packing up fast and heading towards one of the farms on the rim of the crater.
A surprised farmer, who didn’t speak English, was persuaded to give the three friends a lift into the city, after accepting a wad of money.
   “I always knew money talked.” James said, grinning all over his face as they sat on the back of a battered truck, that found every bump on the road.
   A couple of days later there was a series of huge explosions that hurled out much ash, rocks, and debris, but the activity soon settled down to alternating periods of explosive eruptions and a quiet emission of steam. Ash was deposited mostly along an area that extended westward from the summit to and beyond the city of San Jose, 24 km away. The prolonged ash-fall severely damaged dairy, vegetable, and coffee farms, and for a while made daily life in the city extremely difficult.
 There was a telegram summoning Marg home immediately, from her father, who had been following their progress from the beginning, using the limited information released by the media.

  A year later the friends were studying together at University, relating their experiences to all their new interested friends, fellow students and lecturers.

   Ten years after,  James and Ruth, now married, visited Iratsu again. The wind and volcanic activity conspired to give the effect of a moonscape. There were several craters rimmed by gnarled, scorched trees, lined with brilliantly colored rain-fed mineral pools. The area surrounding its four craters was barren and rocky, a result of its last eruptive cycle.

  They were stunned at the realisation they had been present, almost on the day the crater woke up.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

Images from the Net
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THE OUTER SPACE ~  31st December 2015

2/1/2016

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Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers ~ Writing challenge.
https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com
Hosted by Priceless Joy.
The goal is to write a story between 100-150 words (give or take 25 words) based on the provided photo.
Picture
This week’s photo prompt is provided by Sonya with the blog, Only 100 Words.
THE OUTER SPACE
by John Yeo

     Billy and his pals were strolling home from school, when they came across this weird green structure in a back garden
   “What’s that?” Billy asked. “I’ve never seen anything like that before, it looks like an upside down onion on legs!”
   “Wow” exclaimed Tommy. “Funny looking thing. It’s got a lot of rust on the legs, perhaps it’s scrap iron, My Dad says scrap metal is worth a fortune these days.”
   Mary, had a much richer imagination than the two boys, she took one look over the fence and said, “I’m frightened, that looks like an alien spacecraft.”
   “No, whoever heard of a rusty spacecraft. They're all shiny and new when you see them on the tele.” replied Billy.
   Tommy agreed, “No Mary, this is probably an old- fashioned TV aerial, gone rusty.
   Just then two men in overalls appeared.
    “Clear off you lot, ”
  The children ran away fast from these warlike invaders.
   “OK. Sebastian, let's get started there's a lot of work to do on our modern art sculpture before the exhibition starts!”



(175 WORDS)


Copyright Written by John Yeo. ~All rights reserved.

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UNKNOWN SENDER ~ 30TH DECEMBER 2015

1/1/2016

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A Prompt Response for Inspiration Monday:~  Unknown Sender.

http://bekindrewrite.com

Picture
Image © Copyright John and Margaret
UNKNOWN SENDER
by John Yeo

   “Where did that come from?” Asked, Minnie Mills, when she entered the post-office and handed in the card that had been pushed through her door by the postman.
    Elizabeth, the very experienced counter-clerk, scratched her head in curiosity. “We never know.  Are you sure you don’t recognise the handwriting? There doesn’t seem to be a visible postmark on the wrapper, it’s all smudged.” Elizabeth had worked in the village post office for twenty years and she knew everyone intimately, she was always very helpful, and rather nosey when it came to other people's post.
   “I wonder what it can be, I am not expecting anything and I have never seen that writing before. I have heard there are some dangerous people around who send out letter bombs and parcel bombs, to all and sundry.” Minnie exclaimed with a slight tremor of her normally stiff upper lip. Minnie had just turned 83 years old, the week before, but her mind was very sharp from reading the newspapers and watching television.
  Elizabeth smiled in disbelief. “No! Mrs Mills, I don’t think so. Who on earth would want to send a bomb to you? I can call the manager if you like, but I don’t know what he can do. I expect he will call the police, who will then call in the bomb squad.”
   Charlie Jones the local odd job man was standing next in the queue, “Come on! Hurry up! I have work to do. Will you get a move on, I will take it outside and open it up if you like!”
 “No thank-you very much!” Exclaimed Minnie Mills. “I don’t want your death on my conscience.”
Elizabeth gave him one of her special warning looks, and pressed the bell for the manager, who was in the office at the back of the shop doing his books. Bill Green had been managing this little village office for a couple of years now, having moved from the big city to enjoy life in the country with his family.
   “Can I help you?” Bill asked the odd job man, then sold him a first class stamp and showed him the door.
Elizabeth rapidly explained the situation to the astonished manager.
   “Well, there is a procedure to follow when we encounter a suspicious package. I have a special number to ring for instructions. Don’t do a thing until I come back.” He rushed into his office to make the call.
 He returned in a couple of minutes and announced, “Help is on the way, meanwhile we must put the package in a bucket of water and take it outside, far away from the post office.”
 A short time later an unusual looking van arrived with strange aerials on the top and headed straight for the bucket. Some minutes later an army officer entered the post office.
   “There is no cause for alarm, this is definitely not an explosive device. We have x-rayed it and we ran a metal detector over it, and there is nothing metallic inside.” He reported, then drove off
to another investigation.
  Elizabeth, the counter clerk was very curious, and when everyone had gone, she urged Minnie to open the parcel. “Go on, open it now in case I can help you.”
   Minnie gave her an old fashioned look, then said, “No I will take it home now.”
  When she got home she gingerly unwrapped her package to discover a rubber Hot-Water Bottle, donated by Age Concern to keep her warm in the winter.
Ahh! That’s nice of them she thought, smiling to herself.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

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