In Keith’s words.
“Using this photo (below) as inspiration, write a short story, flash fiction, scene, poem; anything, really; even just a caption for the photograph. Either put your offering (or a link to it) in a comment or email it to me at keithchanning@gmail.com before Sunday evening UK time. 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. Thank you for taking part.
Visit Keith at his place if you want to read the stories or participate. Here is the link to his post. https://keithchanning.wordpress.com/2023/02/20/kreative-kue-394/
The Photo.

The Island by John W. Howell © 2023
“What do you think, Number Two?”
“Looks deserted, Captain.”
“My thought exactly. I’m a little worried about that rock there.”
“How so, Captain?”
“When I was a kid, I saw a scary movie where a giant gorilla lived on such a rock.”
“You think this might be the rock?”
“No, of course not. There is something creepy about it, though. Is this island on our map?”
“No, sir. It is uncharted.”
“Hmmm. Have you ever seen a movie where an uncharted island was not filled with horrors?”
“Not much for movies, sir. If you’re saying this island may be dangerous, I will agree.”
“You will? Why?”
“For one thing, there are no birds flying around. I have never stood off from an island that didn’t have birds.”
“I don’t see any signs of inhabitants either.”
“That may be a good thing, but no birds? Bad JuJu.”
“We should send a landing party to check it out.”
“Suit yourself, Captain, but as for me, I would rather we lift anchor and leave this island in the uncharted category.”
“Tell the boatswain’s mate to assemble a party to reconnoiter the island.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
“Make sure they are well armed.”
* * *
“Captain. We got a garbled message from the landing party’s radio.”
“It’s been twenty-four hours, Number Two. It’s about time. What’s the message?”
“It was hard to understand, but sparks figured it out.”
“Enough suspense. What did the message say?”
“Send more long pigs.”
“Long pigs? What the hell are long pigs?”
“We think they mean us, Sir.”
















Another Saturday and another opportunity to do precisely nothing all day. The coffee machine reached an agreement with me to produce two cups each morning with no hesitation. In return, I agree to ensure the water tank is filled and the beans are replaced. Oh yes, there is another fine point. The toaster needs to be moved closer to the machine and left overnight. Not wanting to know stuff that I would need to drink heavily to forget, there were no questions asked.



















