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.

Tinkerbell by John W.Howell © 2021

“Okay, Ms. Watson. We need a really nice photo to go on the back of your book.”

“I don’t understand why.”

“Your readers will want to know what you look like. That’s why.”

“I’ve published ten books without a photo. Why now?”

“The publisher has decided.”

“Oh yeah, just like the title, time of publication, and everything else.”

“I have a job to do. I don’t make the rules.”

“Oh, I know that. Excuse the rant. I just feel like I have no control.”

“I can imagine. I know if someone kept telling me what pictures to take, I would feel the same way.”

“You are being told to take a picture of me.”

“I meant my own pictures. My client’s pictures are paid for by them, so they have a say so.”

“Does that make it right? How much are you being paid for this one.”

“Not much. $200.00.”

“Wow. That seems like a little amount.”

“Well, it’s the going rate for a sitting.”

“What if I doubled that?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll pay you $400 not to take the photo.”

“I have to send something to the client. They paid in advance.”

“I have an idea. You have any costumes here?”

“Only a dog costume.”

“I’ll put that on. You take my picture and send it along with $200 and make up an excuse. I’ll give you $400 to do that.”

“You have a deal. Here’s the costume.”

“It’s hot for sure.”

“Now smile, Tinkerbell. That’s great.”

“Thank you so much. I feel free.”

“You know they’ll just hire another to take the photo.”

“Yeah, but thinking of the look on the faces over there is well worth it.”

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 Story by John W. Howell ©2020

“You want to tell me what happened?”

“You would never believe it.”

“Oh, come on.”

“No, you would immediately think it was my fault.”

“Well, that’s not a nice thing to say.”

“But you always take the other side.”

“Only when I think you’re wrong.”

“Which is most of the time.”

“Okay. I promise I’ll hear you out and keep my opinions to myself.”

“Well, if you promise.”

“I do.”

“There I was. Standing on the corner minding my own business.”

“Your stories all start out the same.”

“You asked. Should I continue?”

“Sorry. Go ahead.”

“As I said, I was minding my business when this big bus turned the corner.”

“You didn’t chase the bus, did you?”

“You going to wait or not?”

“Sorry again. Please proceed.”

“On the bus was this picture of a beautiful dog. It was running its heart out.”

“Okay. That would be a Greyhound bus.”

“The dog looked at me, and in an instant, I knew what I had to do.”

“The dog looked at you?”

“I took off and kept stride for stride. I kept asking the dog if it needed help.”

“No response.”

“How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.”

“We came to a corner, and the bus stopped.”

“When are we going to get to the paw?”

“The doors opened, so I started to get on.”

“Someone kicked your paw?”

“No, the doors slammed shut on it. Seems they didn’t want a dog on there even though they had one captive on the side.”

“Doesn’t seem like that would do too much damage.”

“Then the bus started moving with my paw in the door. That’s when I knew I had to yank it free.”

“Which caused the hurt.”

“No. The rear tire hitting it caused the hurt.”

“I see.”

“That’s it? Just I see. No critical comments.”

“I think anything I say would just add insult to injury.”

“So you think it is my fault that I got injured trying to help a poor dog in distress?”

“No. That’s not what I think.”

“What then?”

“That you’re an idiot.”

“You were going to keep your opinion to yourself.”

“I lied.”

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 Sale by John W. Howell © 2020

“Excuse me.”

“Yes, Can we help you?”

“Are you all friends?”

“Yes, we are. Why do you ask?”

“It is amazing to me that Easterners and Westerners can be friends, is all.”

“Well, we’ve known each other for a long time.”

“Which means you would do anything for each other.”

“Yes, that is true. We are puzzled by your questions.”

“Let me come to the point then.”

“That would be great cause you are starting to concern us.”

“This woman with me has something that I think you need.”

“And what would that be?”

“I see you all are unshod.”

“Unshod? Oh, you mean we have no shoes?”

“Yes, that’s it.”

“We are taking advantage of the warm sand. Our shoes are right over there.”

“Where?”

“Oh, my goodness. They were there a minute ago.”

“Shows how fleeting possessions can become. Fear not, for we have the answer. A nice pair of shoes for each of you in your size.”

“Wait a minute. Those are our shoes.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I bought those boots in town.”

“So maybe we have a case of disputed ownership here.”

“Yeah, maybe we need the police.”

“At your service.”

“Huh?”

“In addition to a cobbler, I’m the deputy peace officer for the township.”

“My word.”

“And today, I have a special on both shoes and arrests. Both for only ten dollars each.”

“So if I want to buy an arrest for the woman?”

“Ten dollars.”

“And if I want the shoes?”

“Ten dollars.”

“Both?”

“Twenty dollars.”

“So to buy the shoes is the cheapest option.”

“You have a quick mind, sir.”

“How about my friends?”

“I can arrest them at a special rate.”

“No, I mean their shoes.”

“Two for ten dollars.”

“Fine, you have me. I’ll take the shoes.”

“That will be thirty dollars.”

“Wait, you said ten dollars for my shoes and ten dollars for my friends. That’s twenty dollars.”

“Shipping and handling. A total of ten dollars for the order.”

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.

A Decision by John W. Howell © 2020

“Well, we are here.”

“Yeah, it looks like it.”

“Shall we go in?”

“What for?”

“The whole idea was to come here and seek sanctuary.”

“I know, but to look at it now, it seems overpowering.”

“It is just a building.”

“You can say that, but to me, it means so much more.”

“How’s that?”

“See those crosses on the steeples?”

“Yeah, hard to miss.”

“It is a sacred place, and we should be respectful.”

“We are respectful.”

“I mean, we should not be going in there just to. escape our fears.”

“Then, why?”

“We should be offering thanks for the blessings we have.”

“I will give thanks for the security the building offers.”

“By the way, how do you know that building is all that safe?”

“Remember when I went on that scouting trip?”

“Yeah.”

“I snuck in there and witnessed the rector having an allergic reaction.”

“What was he allergic to?”

“Get this. Cats.”

“Cats?”

“Yup. One of the parishioners came in with a cat. I can tell you I was scared out of my wits seeing that thing. Lucky, he didn’t see me. I suspected he had my scent the way his nose was twitching.”

“Then what?”

“The rector told her to take the cat out. He was allergic. He then started sneezing his head off.”

“So you are saying there is no cat there.”

“That’s why I chose this place. A mouse can’t be too careful.”

“Well, okay, but you have to promise we will give thanks for our good fortune.”

“Of course we will. Also, you will be glad to know the rector tends to leave a lot of crumbs after his lunch.”

“All the better. Any cheese there?”

“I think somebody moved it.”

“Figures. Oh well, crumbs will do. Let’s go.”

 

 

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.

Rise by John W.Howell ©2020

“Easy. Not too fast.”

“How’s this?”

“Just a little slower.”

“Okay, I’m almost at idle.”

“Yeah, that’s good.”

“What is so special about this morning.”

“You should see this bench covered in frost. It is beautiful.”

“What does that have to do with slowing down the rise?”

“I wanted to get a picture of it with the sun coming up. The contrast is amazing.”

“I’m not sure about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“What diety do you know has a Minolta camera and causes the sunrise to be slowed so he can get a picture.”

“Well, none. So what’s wrong with having a hobby.”

“You are a god for heaven’s sake. You don’t go around taking pictures, and you certainly don’t cause the sun to be delayed.”

“Didn’t hurt anyone.”

“How do you know. There might be some creature totally dependent on the exact time of sunrise for something important.”

“Oh yeah. Then why did you invent Daylight Savings Time.”

“You are going to bring that up again, are you?”

“Well. You haven’t been able to fix it since you introduced it.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s just drop it.”

“No more said about my camera?”

“Just one question.”

“Shoot.”

“Where do you display those photos anyway?”

“Got a guy named Keith who takes em and puts them on display.”

“Does he know the source?”

“He has no idea. He thinks he took them. Lucky for me, he is a little forgetful.”

“Lucky for him too.”

“Amen.”

“Nice.”

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.

Blinded by the Light By John W.Howell © 2020

“I would say tear it down, sir, but it is three hundred years old.”

“I mean, everything was fine until yesterday.”

“What happened yesterday?”

“I went about my normal day.”

“How’s that look?”

“Well, let’s see. Got up, took the dog out, had coffee.”

“Sounds like you’ve covered the first hour at best.”

“Well, now just hold on. Ah, yes. While I was walking the dog, I noticed an unusual burn in the field over there.”

“Uh-huh. Go on.”

“I just thought it was weird. A circle burned in the field.”

“How large a circle?”

“That’s not the important part, but I would say twelve feet.”

“That is pretty big.”

“Anyway. I went over to have a look. The burned part smelled like lavender.”

“That’s odd.”

“I thought so too. I turned to leave and was blinded by a light.”

“Don’t tell me. You were then revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night.”

“Teah, very funny. You want to hear this or not?”

“Sorry. Go ahead.”

“Okay, then it felt like I had a boulder on my shoulder.”

“You tripped on a merry go round.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Continue.”

“I finally figured out I was being abducted by aliens.”

“Okay, sir. Hold it right there. I came here to give you a bid on the roof. I’m not one to hold to conspiracy theories and stuff like that.”

“This is the truth.”

“I can’t handle the truth.”

“Calm down. As you can see, I’m here. The only thing that happened is we all got into some kind of drink. Then this girl told me she could turn me on to something strong.”

“They played the song with the funky break.”

“How’d you know?”

“It’s a song lyric, sir. Excuse me, I gotta get going.”

“We razed the roof.”

“I’ll say you did. Now I need to get into my curly whirly. Have a nice day, sir.”

“Wait. You haven’t heard the best part.”

“Sorry. My mama always told me not to look in the eyes of the sun. Bye.”

“Too bad he’s gone.  He’s going to miss seeing the calliope crash to the ground.”

 

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.

Say What? By John W. Howell © 2020

“Okay, now hold it right there.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I understand this whole art museum thing.”

“Okay.”

“But I don’t get what we are doing here in the middle of the night.”

“I can explain.”

“Please do then.”

“We came at night because you see better then.”

“Oh, so you wanted me to be able to see the art better?”

“Em, no.”

“You know what a highly intelligent and sensitive bird I am, so you want me to critique a few pieces.”

“That’s not it.”

“Ah. You want me to appraise some paintings. I’ll have you know my appraisals are sought after.”

“No.”

“To write a review on a piece or the collection.”

“Sorry.”

“Okay, I give up.”

“There is a mouse in this room, and we would like you to have it for dinner.”

“You want this highly trained and wise owl work for his dinner?”

“Yup.”

“I hope no one finds out about this.”

“Why?”

“I mean, think of my reputation.”

“What reputation?”

“As a bon vivant and renaissance bird. I had those damn eagles convinced I walked on water.”

“A little too much brag, I would say.”

“‘A little too much brag, I would say.’ You sound like my wife.”

“Sounds like you should have taken her advice. You ready.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Are the security cameras working?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want this to hit the internet. Could you turn them off?”

“Absolutely not. Besides, no one cares about seeing you catch a mouse.”

“I’ve got a million followers on Tic Toc, 100,000 on Instagram, 25,000 on Twitter. They will care.”

“I don’t know about that. I just need the mouse caught.”

“Could you at least call my agent?”

“Agent?”

“Yeah. She’ll know what to do. Maybe this could be the beginning of Super Owl, the next hero.”

“Maybe I should have used a cat.”

“That orange one I’ve seen around.”

“Yup.”

“He has an agent too and is much fussier. He’ll want catering and star billing.”

 

In Keith’s words.

“On to this week’s challenge: 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 Line by John W. Howell © 2020

“I’m just wondering, is all.”

“Don’t even think about crossing that line.”

“I’m not. I just asked the question.”

“Well, don’t ask.”

“Can I ask a totally unrelated question?”

“Sure. But let me warn you I’m not the answer dog in this place.”

“Why is this line important.”

“There you go again. You have this obsession with the line.”

“No, I don’t.”

“What is it then.”

“I just want to know why I can’t cross it.”

“Because.”

“Because, why?”

“I say so.”

“Who are you?”

“The toughest dog around.”

“It can’t be because there is anything special in that room.”

“How do you know?”

“I’ve been in it.”

“When was that?”

“When you were on a walk. I waltzed over your precious line and sniffed that room clean.”

“You didn’t. I told you to never cross the line.”

“Too bad, I did. What are you going to do about it?”

“Yeah, good question.”

“Well?”

“Don’t rush me.”

“How about finding another line?”

“Good one. That’s what I’ll do.”

“The door to the garage has a dandy line.”

“I’m going to check it out. Why are you so helpful?”

“When you have an idiot as a brother, you gotta do all you can.”

“I appreciate that. Hey, wait—”

 

 

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 6 pm 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 Council by John W. Howell © 2020

“Are we at the wrong place?”

“No, this is where the council meets.”

“Where are they?”

“Beats me.”

“You sure we are at the right time?”

“Yup. ten o’clock.”

“Right day?”

“Tuesday.”

“These ashes are still warm.”

“Yeah, it looks like a fire was here.”

“What’s that smell?”

“What smell?”

“Roast lamb smell.”

“Maybe someone had roast lamb.”

“No, it is slightly off. A little heavy for lamb.”

“Good thing.”

“What?”

“Since we are pigs, I would say it is a good thing.”

“I don’t get it.”

“If someone was going to roast a lamb, they might also think about roasting a pig.”

“They don’t do that. It’s against the law.”

“So what was roasted then.”

“My guess?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“I think the council got into the humans again.”

“Oh, no. They’ll be gone for days. You know what a human hangover does to the soul.”

“Not to mention the head.”

“Where did they find humans.”

“Oh, there are plenty around if you know where to look.”

“You ever had human?”

“No way. Those things give me the creeps.”

“I haven’t either, but I heard they taste like chicken.”

“Yeah, I would just rather have chicken.”

“All this talk makes me hungry.”

“I could go for a burger myself.”

“Some fries?”

“Of course.”

“I guess we can reschedule the meeting with the council.”

“Yeah. What did you want to discuss with them?”

“The leash law that no one seems to follow.”

“Good subject. I hope they get back to work soon.”

“Lazy politicians. Somebody ought to vote them out.”

“When you elect vultures, what do you expect?”

“I suppose. Let’s go.”