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 – 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.
Archie by John W. Howell © 2018
“Hey, Archie what are you doing?”
“Oh, man I have this itch that I can’t reach.”
“Itch. You gotta be kidding me.”
“No, I swear. It is driving me crazy.”
“How could that be?”
“I have no idea. There is a spot right in the middle of my back that’s killing me.”
“You better not let the curator see you moving around. You’ll get cashiered. or worse.”
“Any suggestions on getting that spot then?”
“Are you certain you can’t just wait until nighttime.”
“I think I know what the problem is.”
“Do tell.”
“The sun. It is so hot I can feel something dripping down my back.”
“Oh, now that is serious.”
“Who can we call?”
“You can’t let on that you are alive.”
“Why not? I certainly am.”
“You are made of wax. You know that. To be alive and made of wax is the stuff of horror movies.”
“So what do I do?”
“Can you back up slightly into the shade more.”
“I’m going to melt is what you are saying.”
“I don’t think it is that bad. Just hold on till nightfall.”
“It is just so hot.”
“Come on Archie, stay with me. Hush, here comes the curator.”
“Who left this archer out in the sun? Don’t you people know he could melt. Move him in the shade.”
“How’s that feel Archie?”
“I thought I was a goner. Feels better. The itch is gone. I hope tomorrow is a better day.”
“Let’s hope those guys don’t move you into the sun again.”
“Now I’m worried.”
