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.”

Here s the photo.

Long Night by John W. Howell © 2014

“I don’t see anyone from this direction.”

“Yeah me neither.”

“Who was the guy that rented you this space?”

“He was the exhibit coordinator.  A vice president I think.”

“And he gave you a good deal?”

“He said it was his best price.”

“Told you it was a high traffic area right?”

“He said all the folks who go out for dinner pass this way.”

“Why haven’t we seen a soul?”

“Maybe they are still at dinner.”

“At midnight? I don’t think so.”

“I don’t understand it.”

“I do.”

“You do what?”

“Understand it.”

“Explain it to me then.”

“The guy took our money and rented us this worthless space.”

“How about those guys next door? They are in the same boat.”

“Hey, you guys. Sold anything tonight?”

“Haven’t even seen anyone. How about you?”

“Same here. Talk to you guys later. Good luck.”

“Man, that sucks.  guess we all have been had.”

“What are those guy selling?”

“I don’t know. If you are so curious, go over and ask.”

“And maybe miss a sale. No thank you.”

“I think it is a moot point. Our inventory looks pretty ragged.”

“Tell me again why we got into the ice sculpture business?”

“Don’t start on me.”

Keith explains in his words. “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.”

New York Christmas by John W. Howell © 2017

“Trudy, did you get everything?’

“I did. It took over five hundred dollars, but I think I’ve bought everyone a gift.”

“Did you remember Uncle Joe?”

“Yes, I remembered Uncle Joe. I also remembered the other twelve of your relatives.”

“Now wait a minute. You have relatives too.”

“I only have my mother and sister. That is two.”

“So what are you saying?”

“Nothing. I just want you to know that in the gift spending department your relatives have the lion’s share.”

“And you think that is unfair?”

“No, I didn’t say that. It’s just that spending all that money every year puts a strain on the budget.”

“So who do we eliminate?”

“That’s the problem. There isn’t anyone we can cut.”

“As I thought. Are all the gifts under the tree? They’ll be here early tomorrow morning.”

“You want to come look?”

“No. I think it’s time for bed.”

“Should I leave the tree lights on?”

“No. We don’t want anyone looking in the window and is tempted .”

“We are twelve stories up. Who’s going to look in the window?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Go ahead a leave ’em on.”

“It is so festive. I’m glad we bought the gifts.”

“Aw, that is a nice thing to say. I thought you were mad.”

“No, I have to remember it is Christmas after all.”

“Sweetie?”

“Yes, love?”

“Did you lock the window?”

“Oh for heaven’s sake it is late. Go to sleep. Besides, it is twelve stories to the window. Who’s going to come in.”

“Yeah, who indeed.”

Here are Keith’s words to explain what is going on. “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.”

Here is the photo

Lunch by John W. Howell © 2017

“Hey, humans. Get that phone will ya? Where did everyone go?”

“We are in the kitchen, Ralphy. Just let it ring.”

“OMG. Did you have to have a klaxon horn for a ringtone?”

“George maybe you had better answer it.”

“Not me. You know who it is.”

“You don’t know that for sure. Go look see if the caller ID confirms it.”

“I’m telling you, I don’t even want to go near it. She’ll know.”

“Don’t be a fool. She will not know.”

“You humans in the house. Anybody going to answer this thing or do I keep on barking?”

“Hush Ralphy. I’m coming to look.”

“Look? Why not just toss it out?”

“Harriet. It is her. I’m not going to answer it.”

“George you coward. Hit the silent button.”

“She’ll know I hit silent.”

“She won’t care. Our lunch is going to the flies. Shut the phone off. I don’t know why we run when that thing goes off anyway.”

“Okay, there I did it.”

“Good man. See you are brave after all. Okay, Ralphy  jump back up on your chair and let’s continue with our lunch.”

“By the way. How did you teach that dog to use a knife and fork?”

“It was easy. I think he already knew. Was that her on the phone?”

“Yup.”

“See she never knew.”

“Wait until next time.”

“Why does she keep calling?”

“I dunno. I guess she doesn’t have a lot of friends.”

“What does she want anyway?”

“To give us a sea cruise.”

“What’s wrong with that anyway?”

“We get seasick, and I would hate to disappoint her by saying no.”

“You are a good man, George. Ralphy don’t gulp your food. Take a drink of water.”

“He handles that bottle well too.”

I asked Keith to explain what is going on here. These are his 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.”

Vision by John W. Howell ©2017

“Hey, honey.”

“What dear?”

“You know that young woman who was a singer and died?”

“What are you talking about?”

“We read that article in People magazine. You know that teenage girl who was in the car wreck.”

“Oh. That girl who was just starting her career. The one with the number one song?”

“That’s the one.”

“What about her?”

“Did she have a sister?”

“What do you care?”

“Just answer. Did she?”

“No, she was all alone. Remember she was an orphan.”

“That’s what I thought. What was she wearing when she was in the accident?”

“You are starting to concern me. The article said she had just left the stage.”

“I know that. Do you remember what she was wearing?”

“The article said she was in pink and blue.”

“Braided hair right?”

“W-well yes. In the PR photo, she had braided hair.”

“Come look.”

“Okay. What am I looking at?”

“You don’t see her?”

“I see a lot of hers. Which one?”

“By the palm tree. Blue shirt, pink pants braided hair.”

“I see people in the grass. No girl.”

“You’re kidding. She’s right there.”

“Darling?”

“Yes dear.”

“How many margaritas’ have you had?”

“Too many I guess.”

“Yes, love. One too many. Let’s go sit down.”

Let Keith explain what we have here in his 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 Photo.

Mystery by John W. Howell © 2017

“So I was saying to Chelsea, ‘I really need to get a different hairstyle—'”

“Hold on. I’ve seen that cop before.”

“Huh? Oh, that guy in the hideous orange thingy?”

“Yes. Keep your voice down. Look straight ahead and keep walking.”

“What’s the matter, Leon?”

“I’m telling you. I think that guy is following us. He has is back to us now, but I’m sure he was down at the last intersection.”

“Following us? Why would he do that?”

“I’m not sure, but I can’t shake the feeling we are being watched.”

“Oh don’t be silly. You and I are a couple out for a stroll. We look perfectly normal.”

“That’s what I hope, Esa. Just a couple of tourists walking along.”

“I think you are getting paranoid.”

“I think I have every right don’t you?”

“I don’t think we should talk about that now, do you?”

“It was your idea after all.”

“Yes that’s true but you are in it, and there is nothing you can do but keep walking.”

“He just looked at us.”

“I’m an attractive woman. He’s a cop for God’s sake. Of course, he would look.”

“He’s on his radio.”

“So what? That’s what they do. That and eat donuts.”

“Very funny. Say what you want we had better get a plan together.’

“We have a plan. Keep walking.”

“Are you sure that guy was reliable?”

“Of course. No one knows us or what we look like so calm down.”

“Excuse me, folks.”

“Y-yes officer?”

“You have something trailing out of your backpack.”

“Oh my goodness. Thank you, officer.”

“Looks like coffee beans. Please stop and let me have a look.”

“I can explain sir.”

“I think you’d better. Unless I’m mistaken, it looks like you have a whole bunch of coffee in that pack. Please step back and put your hands where I can see them. I think you may be in some pretty deep trouble. Looks like you could be charged with possession and distribution of a controlled substance. Big C is illegal here.”

“You and your caffeine habit. Looks what it has gotten us now.”

“Oh shut up. I’m jonesing for a Grande right now.”

Here is Keith Channing explaining this whole deal. “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.” Here is the photo.

The Race by John W. Howell © 2017

“Would yo look at that.”

“What?”

“Those bike racers.”

“What about them?”

“They are on some kind of contraption. They’re not racing at all.”

“They are too. It is break time is all.”

“Break time? What is that all about?”

“You see these guys on the motorcycle thingy are giving the cyclists a ride while they have a drink and rest a little.”

“Is that in the rules?”

“Of course. The idea is not to delay the race but make sure the cyclists have enough water  and  are healthy enough to finish.”

“Takes the uncertainty out of it don’t you think?”

“Well, the best rider will finish not the one who can stand the torture the best.”

“Isn’t the torture part of separating the strong from the weak?”

“I suppose but this way it is a matter of riding skill, not stamina.”

“I don’t know. Would be like putting a football team on Segways for part of the game.”

“Might be fun.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Think of a guy on a Segway going out for a pass and the defender is on his Segway and then they both go after the ball.”

“A big crash right?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t it sound great.”

“You like hockey don’t you?”

“How’d you guess?”

“Oh just lucky.”