In Keith’s words.
“Using this photo as inspiration, write a short story, flash fiction, scene, poem; anything, really; even just a caption for the photograph. Either put it (or a link to it) in a comment or email it to me at keithchanning@gmail.com before 6pm next Sunday (if you aren’t sure what the time is where I live, this link will tell you). If you post it on your own blog or site, a link to this page would be appreciated, but please do also mention it in a comment here – pingbacks don’t often work.
Go on. You know you want to. Let your creativity and imagination soar. I shall display the entries, with links to your own blog or website, next Monday.”
The photo.
The Trip by John W. Howell © 2018
“Will you stop giggling. I’m trying to hear.”
“I can’t help it. That last Jal-jeera went to my head.”
“I guess the fact that it is only spices and no alcohol is lost on you.”
“Say what you want, but that cumin packs a punch. Where are we anyway?”
“If you’ll stop babbling maybe I can find out.”
“Hey look. There are crowds of people along the highway.”
“It appears we’re in some kind of parade. What are you doing?”
“I’m going to wave my hat. They’re waving at us.”
“Yeah, I see that. Notice no one is smiling though.”
“Oh, that’s a little creepy isn’t it.”
“I would say. Hold on. I’m getting a signal. Yes, this is Channing. Who’s this? Uh huh. So how did we get here? We are in a damn parade. We are on a float. It’s not a float? Okay, roger that, Channing out.”
“Who was that?”
“Believe it or not that was Century Base One.”
“What’d he say.”
“For some reason, we took a wrong turn at Waypoint Beta and are now on our way to a sacrifice.”
“A sacrifice. I’ve never been to a sacrifice.”
“You idiot. Of course, you’ve never been. We are the sacrifice.”
“Why can’t I remember?”
“Remember what?”
“The trip from the Jal-jeera joint to here.”
“Don’t feel alone. I can’t either.”
“What do we do now?”
“I’ve set your transponder to section four. Now let’s get out of here.”
“I think I gave my transponder to that pretty girl.”
“What pretty girl?”
“The one in the Jal-jeera joint.”
“The one with the blond hair?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I guess she and I will be in section four.”
“Where will I be?”
“My guess is hot water. See ya,”






