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 Wonder by John W. Howell © 2021

“Should we bother him?”

“I’m not sure. Looks like his mind is a million miles away.”

“That’s what I thought. If we try to get his attention he might have a heart attack.”

“We will have to interrupt his reverie sooner of later.”

“Why? We can just go somewhere else.”

“I don’t think that’s a great idea. I don’t know where else to go.”

“We could keep driving until we see someone dressed like him.”

“That could be a hundred miles. We need to be home by lunchtime.”

“Why’s that?”

“The guy from the Audubon society is going to meet us there remember?”

“Oh yeah. You are making a big donation.”

“Well, birds are our our friends.”

“What about this one?”

“I think it belongs to that guy.”

“How do you know?”

“He’s got hawk protection for his hands. Look at the symbol on his jacket. It screams hawk.”

“I must say he even looks like a hawk. Okay let’s go tell him his bird is with us.”

“Don’t tell him about the pupachino at Starbucks. Not sure he would like the fact we got one for his bird.”

“I think it would be wise not to mention the blueberry scone either.”

“I think you’re right.”

“What should we say when he asks how we came to have his hawk?”

“I’d go with the bird was hitchhiking and we picked it up.”

“He’s not going to believe that.”

“Maybe the truth then?”

” When you called to it and it flew in the house sounds like a fairy tale.”

“That’s why I like the hitchhike story. Any way it doesn’t matter we will get the hawk back to it’s rightful owner.”

“We hope.”

“Look at the hawk. It’s shaking it’s head.”

“I think he wants to stay with us.”

“He’s nodding.”

“One question.”

“Yeah?”

“Where did this bird learn English?”

“Let’s ask him when we get home.”

“I wonder if he’s potty trained.”

“He’s nodding yes.”

“Does Polly want a cracker?”

“He’s not a parriot.”

“I still think he wants a cracker.”

“And ruin his lunch? No way.”

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 Dark by John W. Howell © 2021

“So here’s the plan. We are going to try and get the tree shot before it gets fully dark.”

“I don’t understand what’s so important about the tree shot.”

“It’s not your job to wonder about anything important. You are the talent. I’m the director.”

“Well, okay. Put that way, I’ll just be quiet.”

“A welcome change of pace. Now I need you to get under the tree.”

“Ew. Things are hanging in the tree.”

“Those are the vampire bats that are going to bite you on the neck in the scene.”

“Wait a minute. SAG rules are no biting.”

“For heaven’s sake. Have you read the script?”

“No. I saw I have no dialogue, so I just skipped it. Besides, you always tell me what I’m supposed to do.”

“Too bad you don’t listen. So here’s the scene. You have run away from the pack of zombies—”

“No way.”

“No way what?”

“I don’t run. It’s in my contract.”

“I know we have a stunt double.”

“So why say I run?”

“Let me rephrase that. In the form of a stunt double, your character runs away from a pack of zombies and comes to this tree. She is all out of breath—”

“Who is out of breath?”

“The character.”

“Go on.”

“She looks up into the tree and then sees the vampires. She falls to the ground screaming, and then we cut. Any questions?”

“I don’t fall. It’s in my contract.”

“We will cut in the stunt double falling. The shot will have you screaming and then a closeup of you on the ground.”

“It’s wet.”

“What?”

“The ground.”

“Let me guess. You don’t get wet. It’s in your contract.”

“Yup.”

“Okay then. Well, put a cover on the ground and make it look like dirt. Then, you’ll be completely dry.”

“What’s the cover made of?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Can’t be latex. I’m allergic.”

“Okay, we’ll use a cotton cloth.”

“Sustainable, organic cotton.”

“It’s in your contract fight?”

“Right.”

“You know if you weren’t my daughter, I would fire you.”

“Oh, come on, Daddy, don’t be a grumpy grump.”

“And if this weren’t your drama class project worth a semester’s grade, I would fire me.”

“You going to keep grumping, or are we going to do this?”

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.

Changes by John W. Howell © 2021

“So, mum. What do you call this?”

“I think it is more important to know what you call it.”

“Why is that?”

“This is going to be your new doghouse.”

“New doghouse? I don’t have an old doghouse. So what’s going on?”

“Dad and I feel you should have your own space. You are old enough to take that step.”

“Wait a minute. What’s wrong with me being in the house.”

“Oh, nothing, and you are welcome to come in anytime.”

“But?”

“But we feel its time for a young dog like yourself to have the freedom of your own place. You know, so you can invite your friends over, entertain guests, and that sort of thing.”

“You trying to get rid of me?”

“No, of course not. It’s just now that you are older it doesn’t seem right that you continue to sleep in our bed.”

“I get it.  Threes a crowd.”

“Well,  something like that. Now tell me, what kind of rugs would you like in there?”

“Rugs? What about heat and A/C? This thing looks like it might be blistering in the summer and freezing in the winter.”

“Come on, Trevor. Aren’t we a little dramatic? This will keep you nice and cool. Look at the huge screens. In the winter, the flaps come down to keep you cozy.”

“Your mind is made up?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I’m writing a letter to an American congressperson and voice my complaint.”

“But you’re not a citizen.”

“All the better. Non-citizens seem to be heard more over there.”

“Let me know if you need help.”

“Can I borrow your computer?”

“Sure.”

“Could you do the typing?”

“Absolutely.”

“Help me with the phrasing.”

“Of course.”

“Let me know when you are finished, and I’ll proof it.”

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.

The Game by John W. Howell © 2021

“I can’t see any signs of injury.”

“That is amazing. You should have seen how these two came together.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“That big lug and Gerry went up for the coconut at the same time.”

“Yeah, and when their heads connected, the lug went down.”

“That’s him laying there.”

“Has anyone taken a look at him?”

“We all looked at him.”

“I mean, has anyone checked him out?”

“I did.”

“And what did you find.”

“He’s unconscious.”

“No kidding. Is he breathing?”

“He was a minute ago.”

“Okay, I’ll have a look.”

“I have to say, Gerry must have the hardest head in the country.”

“So, doc, how’s the lug?”

“He’ll be fine. I put some ice on his lump. Let me look at Gerry again. My goodness, not even a scratch.”

“Gerry says it’s all those bananas.”

“I’m sure. It could also be that he is not a purebred monkey. I suspect somewhere along the line, his ancestors got mixed up with some humans.”

“Really, doc?”

“Yes. I would d like to do some DNA research, but I already have an opinion.”

“Do tell. Who do you think is part of his DNA?”

“With that hard head, I would guess a writer of some kind. Probably self-published.”

“Poor Gerry.”

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.

Home. By John W. Howell © 2021

“We finally made it.”

“What did we make.”

“I mean, we have finally arrived at our new hometown.”

“Looks kinda creepy.”

“Nonsense. The view from this hill is the best. It looks like the castle is all lit up, just waiting for us. All we have to do is go down the hillside, cross that main street, and go up to the castle.”

“I think easier said than done.”

“Oh, come on. We’ve come all this way. We are almost there.”

“Do you realize how far away the castle is from here?”

“Can’t be more than a couple of miles.”

“Listen to yourself. A couple of miles? That is like halfway around the world.”

“We’ve gone farther.”

“Yeah, but we had something to ride. We are on foot now. Tell me again why we had to leave the other place.”

“You know as well as I do that it became unsafe.”

“Oh, come on. You read those organic articles and think there a deadly threat on everything.”

“Did you try to walk across the kitchen floor?”

“Well, no. You scared me with your belief.”

“Belief? Didn’t you see the white line on the floor?”

“I saw what you told me to see. I can’t be certain now.”

“Let me tell you. That place was infested with poison.”

“Where’s the proof?”

“Didn’t you see the human in green toting that spray canister?”

“The one with O-R-K-I-N on his shirt?”

“He did look pretty out of place. Who names their kid Orkin?”

“That is a company name which means death to us.”

“One thing, I can’t figure out.”

“What?”

“Why do humans go nuts when they hear our species name?”

“Our name must mean something frightening in their language.”

“Roach is the nicest name possible.”

“To you and I.”

“This castle?”

“Yeah?”

“How safe is it.”

“They never heard of Raid.”