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.

Go on. You know you want to. Let your creativity and imagination soar. I shall display the entries next Monday.”

The Photo.

Long and Winding Road by John W. Howell © 2021

“I think I see something.”

“Yeah, right. Might be a mirage.”

“I don’t think so.”

“How can you say you see something. We have been on this trail for days, and there is nothing but grass on either side of us.”

“I’m telling you the road takes a curve, and just beyond is an oasis.”

“You are now getting on my nerves. Not only do you think you see something, but you call it an oasis. You better snap out of it. You are delirious.”

“Look, I’m a whole hand taller than you, and when I say I see something, there is something.”

“Fine. I’ll let it go, but when we hit civilization, I’m going to take you to a doctor.”

“You are going to eat those words in a few minutes. Let’s hurry. We are almost to the curve.”

“Do you know how hard it is to run carrying a full load?”

“You may want to drop that when you see what is available.”

“Drop it? I’ve been hauling this thing ever since we started.”

“And I told you when you picked it up, you were a fool.”

“Hey, what is that?”

“I told you.”

“Are you kidding me? It is an oasis.”

“Ha. What did I say?”

“I’m dropping this leave now. That s a fully stocked trash bin. Do you know how much stuff there will be in there for us?”

“Told you, told you.”

“Okay, you were right. Looks it has a metal pole as if that will keep us ants out of it. My pincers are watering. Time for a feast. I’ll bet there is a leftover french fry in there.”

“I’m looking forward to the sugar packet. Always my favorite.”

“And the cola. Let’s stop talking and get up  there.”

“After you, my doubting friend.”

***

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 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.

Go on. You know you want to. Let your creativity and imagination soar. I shall display the entries next Monday.”

The photo.

The Luck by John W. Howell © 2021

“Breakenridge, Cessna 174.”

“Cessna 174, go ahead.”

“I have an emergency.”

“You have Breckenridge Control, Cessna 174. What is the nature of your emergency?”

“I’m losing altitude but cannot explain why. Currently going through ten-thousand heading for nine.”

“Your nearest airfield is Hanover. Would you like vectors to Hanover?”

“Affirmative Breckenridge. Cessna 174.”

“Turn to 220 degrees maintain nine thousand. Contact Hanover tower at 290.5.”

“290.5, nine thousand. The problem is I just went through nine, heading for eight. Cessna 174.”

“Maintain eight thousand, switch to 290.5. Breckenridge out.”

“Hanover, Cessna 174 with you at eight thousand heading for seven.”

“Affirmative Cessna 174. Breckenridge said, you have a problem?”

“Roger that, Hanover. I cannot maintain altitude.”

“Understood, Cessna 174. What is your DG?”

“220 degrees.”

“Maintain 220 degrees. You. are cleared to land on runway 22. You are about six miles from touchdown. Do you have the runway in sight?”

“I’m not sure, Hanover. There is a double rainbow right in front of me. I’m having trouble seeing beyond it.”

“We do not see the rainbow from here. Can you look beyond it, Cessna 174?”

“No, It’s . . .  uh . . . like a curtain.”

“Maintain your current rate of descent, Cessna 174. You should be at the end of the runway shorty.”

“I . . .uh. . . can’t”

“You’re breaking up Cessna 174. Did you say you can’t? . . . Cessna 174? . . . Do you copy Cessna 174? . . . Hanover to Cessna 174 do you read?. . . Cessna 174.”

This is the 300th post that Keith Channing has created as a prompt. I joined his prompts after the 36th. So this means I have been enjoying and participating in Keith’s prompts since August 4th, 2015. Boy, time flies when you are having fun. Congratulations Keith on a fine job.

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 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 also mention it in a comment here.

Go on. You know you want to. Let your creativity and imagination soar. I shall display the entries next Monday.”

The photo,

Westward Ho by John W. Howell

“Amos. Come here and look at this.”

“What is it.”

“There is someone out in the south pasture on a lawn tractor.”

“I told you to make sure that gate was locked.”

“Never mind that. What is she doing there.”

“From my view, she’s mowing the hay.”

“We don’t want that do we?”

“I’ve thought it’s about time. I was just looking over the baler yesterday.”

“But she is cutting the hay, and look how it is blowing out in little pieces.”

“I think you’re right. That’s not the kind of thing we want. Hey, you on the tractor. in the pasture.”

“Me.”

“Are you on a tractor?”

“I think so.”

“Are you the only one in the pasture?”

“Besides you?”

“Yes.”

“I guess so.”

“So what are you doing here.”

“Heading West.”

“Heading West? On a lawnmower?”

“It’s the only vehicle I have.”

“But you are making a mess of my pasture.”

“I thought you would appreciate getting it cut.”

“The pieces are so small I won’t be able to pick them up.”

“Oh, I never thought of that.”

“You from around here.”

“No. I’m from New York.”

“New York City?”

“Yes.”

“And you came all the way to Iowa from there?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I have to give it to you. I couldn’t imagine doing that myself.”

“You want me to finish the mowing?”

“Maybe you need a break. What’s your name?”

“Jenny. Jenny Deere.”

“You wouldn’t be related to-”

“John Deere? Yup, he’s my dad.”

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 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.

Go on. You know you want to. Let your creativity and imagination soar. I shall display the entries next Monday.

The photo.

Buffet by John W. Howell © 2021

“Hold on, everyone.”

“I can’t see my feet.”

“Looks like they are running out of shrimp.”

“Did you honestly just sneeze?”

“Where’s the help around here.”

“All you can eat for a buck?”

“Harold, you said this was an exclusive place.”

“Has anyone seen my wing?”

“Chicken wing.”

“Nah, stupid. My wing.”

“Hey, you there. That’s my serving.”

“Get your foot outa of mine then.”

“Where’s the manager?”

“Right here under y’all.”

“I’m never coming back.”

“Don’t let the door smack ya where the good Lord cracked ya.”

“Waiter. Wheres my wine?”

“You are kidding, right?”

“Yeah, make it a birdbath.”

“Anybody want to swarm after the meal?”

“Excuse me, madam. Take your wings off me. I’m not your husband.”

“You sure look like him.”

“I’ve been told that a lot.”

“Who wants dessert?”

“Is it included?”

“Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Suet paired with sunflower seeds.”

“Oh, yes, please.”

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 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.

Go on. You know you want to. Let your creativity and imagination soar. I shall display the entries next Monday.”

The photo

Snow Day by John W. Howell © 2021

“Trevor. Oh, Trevor.”

“Over here, boss.”

“Over where? I can hear you I can’t see you, though.”

“By the hedgerow. Near the post.”

“There you are. What on Earth?”

“What on Earth indeed.”

“What happened?”

“I was minding my own business on the scent trail of that pesky skunk and all of a sudden I found myself stuck.”

“Can’t you back out?”

“That’s just it. I tried backing out but the snow clumped up on my behind and I got stuck.”

“It looks pretty free now.”

“Yeah, cause I started rocking back and forth to make room.”

“What stopped you then?”

“The skunk.”

“The skunk? How could the skunk stop you?”

“He came over and said he could get me out.”

“Your sworn enemy offered to help you?”

“Well, he said he could get me out if I made him a promise.”

“Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good.”

“Tell me about it. He wanted me to promise never to chase him again.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him I could never make a promise like that.”

“What’d he do.”

“Walked away. So, now, can you get me out?”

“Sure but I need you to make me a promise.”

“What promise?”

“To never chase that skunk again.”

“Here we go again. I could never make that promise.”

“Well, this snow should be gone in a week or two.”

“Okay, okay. I promise not to chase the skunk again.”

“Repeat after me. And if I do.”

“And if I do.”

“I’ll sleep in the barn until the smell goes away.”

“Gee. I kinda like the smell.”

“Say it or stay here till spring.”

“I’ll sleep in the barn until the smell goes away.”

“Okay, I have you.”

“Thanks, boss. By the way, I had my paws crossed.”

“And I’m the only one who can open doors to let you in the house.”

“Yeah, good point.”

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 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.

Go on. You know you want to. Let your creativity and imagination soar. I shall display the entries next Monday.”

The photo.

Bug Out by John W. Howell © 2021

“I’m not sure I can run anymore.”

“You have to. We need to make it to the yard.”

“What’s the rush?”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“No, I’m not. Are we late for dinner?”

“No, dinner is hours away.”

“I give up. Why are we running?”

“You didn’t see that thing by the woods.”

“What thing?”

“That monstrosity with the black eyes and glowing nose.”

“You mean the carrot?”

“Carrot? What are you talking about?”

“It’s a snowman with a carrot nose.”

“What about those coal-black eyes.”

“You just said it.”

“What?”

“Coal. The eyes are made of coal.”

“Nah, uh.”

“Un-huh.”

“Whew, let’s stop running.”

“Thank heavens. I can hardly get my breath.”

“So you’re saying it was a snowman.”

“Yup.”

“How’s he get there?”

“That old guy with the beard built it.”

“The one we live with?”

“The very same.”

“The author.”

“Yup.”

“Why would he build a snowman?”

“For a story.”

“Not much of a story.”

“What if the snowman came alive and was chasing us?”

“Now that would be a story.”

“Don’t look now, but we better get to running again.”

“This is fiction, right?”

“I’m not hanging around to find out. I’m going to bug out. You with me?”

“Well ahead of you, my friend.”

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 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 also mention it in a comment here.

Go on. You know you want to. Let your creativity and imagination soar. I shall display the entries next Monday.”

The photo.

The Challenge by John W. Howell ©2021

“Look at that.”

“I know. Crazy, wouldn’t you say.”

“Out in this kind of weather.”

“No hat even.”

“Would serve her right.”

“What would serve her right?”

“If she got picked up in the talons of a giant snow owl.”

“I wouldn’t mind seeing that.”

“You making a challenge?”

“No, I just said I wouldn’t mind seeing her picked up in the talons of a giant snow owl.”

“You know they don’t believe in giant snow owls.”

“So who would know?”

“I had the same thought.”

“Why don’t you do it then?”

“Then what?”

“Beats mice, I’m sure.”

“To eat?”

“I’m just saying.”

“Ew.”

“Okay, then forget it.”

“You know something?”

“What?”

“You and I don’t have enough to do.”

“Guilty. Let’s think of something else.”

“Like maybe a sheep.”

“Yeah. A sheep in a snowstorm. Now that would be a real challenge.”

“You’re on.”