Kith explains “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 keith@channing.info 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 – 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 web site, next Monday.

The Photo.

Working by John W. Howell © 2017

“Be quiet someone is in there.”

“Who is it?”

“I have no idea. It is somebody who’s working.”

“How do you know she’s working?”

“Light over the computer. Back to the windows. Certainly not someone having a holiday.”

“What do we do now?”

“I’m not sure. We can’t bust in there now.”

“What about all that loot that was rumored to be in there.”

“I guess we will have to hit another place.”

“Aw come on. One look at us and she’ll faint.”

“We can’t take that chance. What if she screams and some guy comes out with a gun.”

“What’s the chance he’ll be able to hit us both?”

“So you are volunteering to be shot.”

“Well, no. I see what you mean.”

“I think we are going to have to settle for some other place.”

“You told me you saw the loot.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Tell me.”

“It will just torture you.”

“Yeah, but better to dream than not.”

“Okay. There was cheese, peanut butter, and walnuts.”

“Go on. You don’t mean it?”

“That’s what I saw.”

“You know the last time I had cheese I had to slide it out of that stupid four way snap trap.”

“When’s the last time you had walnuts?”

“I can’t even remember, but I had to drop one once when the cat showed up.”

“Me I never eat peanut butter. They always use peanut butter on those snap traps.”

“Man I’m starving.”

“Let’s go to the barn and get some grain.”

“I guess that will have to do. Be careful that damn owl has been around lately.”

“If I didn’t know better, I would think people don’t like mice very much.”

“Don’t say that. I have some pretty tender feelings.”

Keith’s own 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 keithkreates@channing.ino 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 – 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 web site, next Monday.

The Photo.

Left by John W. Howell © 2017

“Sir but it looks like you missed the boat.”

“Excuse me. I was deep in thought. What about the boat?”

“It appears you’ve missed the boat.”

“Yes, sadly. I was preoccupied and did miss it.”

“Preoccupied? What were you doing?”

“Well, the ducks were having a disagreement and needed some advice.”

“And you gave them the advice.”

“I tried, but they were so headstrong in their beliefs that I found I was wasting my time.”

“So what did you do?”

“What every red-blooded Russel Terrier would do.”

“Which was?”

“I chased them into the lake.”

“Ah, and we find them there still.”

“I have been waiting for them to come back and finish the discussion but they are still out there.”

“No offense but do you blame them?”

“They owe me a trip across the lake. Because of them, I missed my boat.”

“Do you hear yourself?”

“What?”

“What self-respecting duck is going to come on shore to face an irate Russel Terrier?”

“I would think those two.”

“How can you think that way?”

“Why not. They are my brother and sister.”

“From a different mother, I would say.”

“Why would you say that?”

“I must be going. I wish you the best.”

“Know anyone with a net?”

“Bye now.”

***

I am currently out of the country so responses to your comments may be delayed.

In Keith’s words to let you know what’s going on. “Using this photo as inspiration, write a short story, flash fiction, scene, poem; anything, really; and either put it (or a link to it) in a comment or email it to me at keithkreates@channing.fr 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 web site, next Monday.”

The photo

Whoops by John W. Howell © 2107

“Okay steady as it goes.”

“Man, this new computer does all the work.”

“Don’t get over-confident. Keep your hands on the controls.”

“I know, I know. I’m just saying this thing is so easy to fly with the new computer.”

“I agree, but we need to be on guard for any malfunction.”

“Yes, so true. What’s our position?”

“We are two minutes from touchdown at cruise speed. We have just passed the Earth’s moon and are heading for a place called North America.”

“North America. I studied that area. Filled with some humans, right?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately. That’s is why we are landing while our site is on the dark side. We can avoid them.”

“So this site is in North America, but specifically we are on a trajectory to land at location Alpha.”

“That is correct.”

“Alpha is the name of a place?”

“No, it is just a designation.”

“But one with no obstructions.”

“Yes.”

“When was the last survey completed?”

“Just last month. There is nothing there but a few natives. It is one big island.”

“Do we know the Earth year at landing point Alpha.”

“Let me see. Yes, the year is 2017.”

“And what was the Earth year on the survey?”

“Here it is. 1617.”

“Wait. That is four hundred Earth years. Do you think there will be any changes.”

“Are you kidding? Those primitives? Not a chance.”

“Does the island have a name?”

“Well, the indigenous people call it Manhatten.”

“How do we know that?”

“The survey team sent back that information.”

“Oh okay. Looks like thirty seconds till touchdown. Initiating automatic landing sequence. All we have to do is sit back and—Wait what are all those lights?”

“Whoops.”

Keith tells us what to do. “Using this photo (Below) as inspiration, write a short story, flash fiction, scene, poem; anything, really; and either put it (or a link to it) in a comment or email it to me at keithkreates@channing.fr 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 web site, next Monday.”

The Photo.

The High Road by John W. Howell © 2017

“For heaven’s sake why doesn’t that idiot pass us?”

“I don’t know. He’s just laying back there blowing his horn.”

“he must know we can’t go any faster. Our animals are needing a rest.”

“Maybe we should pull over and let him pass.”

“Look where we are. If we pull over these camels will sleep for a week.”

“I know but that horn is driving me crazy. The noise is giving me a headache.”

“You sure it wasn’t the three goat skins of wine last night?”

“That horn does nothing to help I can tell you.”

“Well, maybe we can pull over. I’ll signal for a lane change.”

“Oh, my goodness. The infidel is pulling over too.”

“Get my scimitar, Kumar. I think we need to teach this one a lesson.”

“He has stopped behind us. Be careful. That awful horn.”

“I’ll be careful. Let me yell at that guy from here. Hey you numbskull. Don’t you hear that horn?”

“He’s not stopping the horn.”

“Oh dear. I must go there. Give me my scimitar.”

“Here you are. Dont cut yourself.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right back.”

“Sir. Sir I’m talking to you. Can’t you hear that horn?”

“Why yes I can. It that a sword you’re holding?”

“It’s a scimitar. What about the horn?”

“I started about ten miles ago.”

“I know. Why have you been following us?”

“We don’t know the way to the village and thought you could lead us there.”

“About the horn?”

“Oh, yes. There is that better?”

“OMG you don’t know how much better. Why have you been blowing that horn all this way.”

“The man at the gas station said you would help us and all we had to do was blow the horn continuously.”

“I think he was joking with you knowing I had this scimitar.”

“Not very funny.”

“I would say not.”

In Keith’s words “Using this photo (Below) as inspiration, write a short story, flash fiction, scene, poem; anything, really; and either put it (or a link to it) in a comment or email it to me at keithkreates@channing.fr 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 web site, next Monday.”

The Sale By John W. Howell ©2107

“Look. Here he comes.”

“That horse doesn’t look fit enough for the wagon.”

“I know right?”

“He said the price included a horse, but I’m going to tell him the deal’s off.”

“Wait a minute. Maybe that nag is good enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“You pretty much stole this deal. You’ll never get a wagon at this price anywhere else.”

“Maybe he’ll throw in some kind of warranty.”

“Now you’re talking. Just bid your time. This deal may turn out okay.”

“I just thought of something.”

“What?”

“How we going to get this rig home?”

“Need to hitch up Dobbin and take it slow is how.”

“Is this wagon street legal.”

“Who cares. It’s an antique.”

“I know, but I don’t need a ticket.”

“We’ll ask him when he finally gets here.”

“Good deal here he comes. Say, buddy.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Can this be driven on the street?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Is it okay to drive on the street with this wagon.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, there are some funny laws about vehicles.”

“I don’t know of any that would prevent you from using this wagon.”

“How about the freeways?”

“The what?”

“Freeways. You know. Seventy miles an hour speed limit.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. Te best we do is Fifty miles in a day.”

“What are you talking about? You have a car don’t you?”

“Car? Now, what are you talking about? You’re not trying to back out of the deal are you?”

“Come on man. I’m not trying anything.”

“Good cause they just passed the city ordinance of 1843.”

“What the hell is that?”

“You can’t renege on a purchase unless you can prove fraud.”

” City ordinance of 1843. What year is this?”

“I think you are faking insanity to get out of the deal. Its 1843 and I’m going to go get the sheriff. You stay here.”

“Did we fall asleep or what? Am I dreaming?”

“I told you not to take that Twilight Zone sign post lightly.”

Keith explains. “Using this photo (below) as inspiration, write a short story, flash fiction, scene, poem; anything, really; and either put it (or a link to it) in a comment or email it to me at keithkreates@channing.fr 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 web site, next Monday.

The Photo.

“Psst. Hey, mister.”

“W-what? Who said that?”

“You waiting to see the doc?”

“Are you talking to me?”

“Who else is in the room. Look around. No one here but us two.”

“Wait a minute. Cats can’t talk. Is this some kind of prank?”

“It would be called a punked. And no this is not that.”

“So what is it? Somebody throwing their voice?”

“No. See my lips moving. I’m really trying to talk to you.”

“So what do you want?”

“I’ll tell you what I don’t want.”

“Whats that?”

“The damn operation that’s what.”

“What operation?”

“Man, you are real quick aren’t you?”

“No need to be rude.”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m using my cat brain and my human voice. Sometimes the two don’t work together right.”

“No problem. Let me ask again, what operation? You look fine to me.”

“Then why do they say I need to be fixed. I don’t feel broken.”

“Oh, I get it. You’re going to be neutered.”

“Neutered? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you won’t be able to sire more cats.”

“And how is this a good thing?”

“Well, for one thing, you won’t be bringing unwanted and perhaps abandoned kittens into the world.”

“I get that. What do I get out of this deal?”

“You won’t be fighting with other cats and will possibly live longer.”

“Okay, most of my fights are over romance. Are you saying there is no more romance?”

“Yup. All of that will be forgotten.”

“So they are going to fix my brain?”

“No. Just the things that cause your brain to go crazy at the sight of a female. Everything else remains the same.”

“So no fights and no romance and you say I may live longer.”

“That’s what they tell me.”

“Maybe it just seems like you live longer with all that boredom.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“You been fixed?”

“More or less son. More or less.”

Keith explains, “Using this photo (below) as inspiration, write a short story, flash fiction, scene, poem; anything, really; and either put it (or a link to it) in a comment or email it to me at keithkreates@channing.fr 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 web site, next Monday.”

The photo.

The Wizard by John W. Howell © 2017

“Who knocks at the portal of the Great Grand Inquisitor?”

“We have a candidate who is unworthy.”

“Any worst than the last one.”

“Well thins one is certainly not as pretty.”

“Speaking of that check on her and see if she is still breathing.”

“Yes, sir. She’s asleep in her chair.”

“So what brings this candidate to my lair … er … portal?”

“This person wants wisdom sire.”

“Wisdom? Is he out of his mind?”

“Why would that be your highness?”

“With wisdom comes responsibility. look at him.”

“The blindfold you mean.?”

“Not him. The other guy.”

“The other guy is me, sire.”

“Now you have me confused. Who is the candidate?”

“This one in the blue shirt with the blindfold.”

“Why the blindfold?”

“To keep our secrets sacred.”

“What secrets?”

“Gosh, boss I don’t know. I just thought there were things people shouldn’t see.”

“I’m beginning to wonder about you.”

“A-about me? Why about me?”

“Well, for one thing, there’s the blindfold. For another you have all these weird lights running around the room. They are making me dizzy. Also, who is the guy holding up the wall? Finally, where did you get that tie?”

“Okay, I get it. You have some doubts about me. I can assure you all these things can be fixed.”

“Okay. Fix them, and we will talk.”

“What about the candidate?”

“Can he hear us?”

“Yes.”

“Candidate.”

“Y-yes sir.”

“Go in peace.”

“Thank you, sir. Uh, one question.”

“Yes?”

“I’m broke and wonder if you can you help me out?”

“Sure. Which way did you come in?”

Keith tells us what is going on. “On to this week’s challenge: Using this photo (below) as inspiration, write a short story, flash fiction, scene, poem; anything, really; and either put it (or a link to it) in a comment or email it to me at keithkreates@channing.fr 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 web site, next Monday.”

Up on the Roof by John W. Howell © 2017

“I think it would be nice if you stopped singing that song.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Does my singing bother you?”

“Let me put it this way. When one is stuck on a roof the last song one wants to hear is ‘Up on the Roof.”‘

“I guess that makes sense. How about a different song?”

“Like what?”

“The mate was a mighty sailing man,
The skipper brave and sure.
Five passengers set sail that day
For a three-hour tour, a three-hour tour.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“What’s wrong.”

“The theme from Gilligan’s Island?”

“Nice tune though.”

“We are on a roof for heaven knows how long and you think that song will cheer anyone up?”

“Well we have a lot of room at least.”

“And nothing more. I was lucky to save my purse.”

“Well we are all safe and that’s what counts.”

“Spoken by someone who never seems to want a bath.”

“Aw. Look on the bright side.”

“Okay. Tell me the bright side.”

“You wanted to redecorate the house anyway.”

“Not with ten feet of water.”

“Check the sunset. It’s beautiful.”

“I will admit it is beautiful. Ouch what was that?”

“What?”

“Something bit me.”

“A mosquito?”

“You better pray not.”

“There are some out now.”

“Did you bring any repellent?”

“No time.”

“Okay then. We need to start thinking of rescue.”

“I think we will have to be patient and wait.”

“Till all our blood is gone?”

“Till a boat comes for us.”

“When will that be?”

“Michael, row the boat ashore, hallelujah.”

“Thanks. I think.”