Jeffrey and Cho – FFFAW Challenge

Just a poem about a couple of blokes on a tandem.

Jeffrey and Cho

Had a bike that was slow

Though two people it sure could convey

They would ride through the town

Knees go up knees go down

Every month every week every day

 

“I am sure out of breath!”

Said a quite knackered Jeff

As he pedalled from A to point B

“As am I ” said young Cho

“Not sure why we’re so slow?”

Because no one can pedal like thee

 

Now Jeff pondered the fact

He was thin, Cho was fat

And each day they would cycle non stop

They would eat quite the same

So that wasn’t to blame

He thought as they rode from the shop

 

It was only by chance

That Jeff caught a quick glance

Of how Cho chose to coast as they slowed

“My god!” he exclaimed

It was cho who’s to blame

For their leisurely pace on the road

 

And from that moment on

The Tandem was gone

And Jeff’s bought a bike of his own

Now cho spends his days

on the xbox he plays

And my, how his belly has grown


Photo courtesy of Dorothy


Want to read more of my stuff?

This is about kinda funny

and this kind of sad

This was just fun

An unexpected twist – #1linerWeds

It’s what it says really…just one line…

“I’ll See you tonight love” Colin shouted from the bathroom as his wife left for work, noticing a  moment too late that they were out of toilet paper.


 

Want to read more of my stuff?  No.  Don’t blame you, no offence taken.

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/a-collection-of-miserable-limericks/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/

 

 

 

 

 

One-Liner Wednesday – An Unexpected Twist

The girl in the rain 

Just an idea about a girl in the rain. I worked backwards from the ending.

When he offered her a lift home she wanted to say no, but the weather was awful out and she really didn’t fancy a walk to the station in the rain.  “Go on then” she responded reluctantly, “but just a lift okay, nothing more.”

James grinned that stupid boyish grin she had seen too many times before in married around the office.   “Cool” he replied “I’ll grab my coat and we can get off, won’t be a minute.”

She watched him scurry over to his desk, throw his laptop into his bag and pull on a dark raincoat over his well fitting navy suit.

“Thanks for this” she said as he walked back over.  He was an arsehole, she knew that too well after last year’s Christmas party, but he was an arsehole with a car and it had been a long day and she really didn’t fancy getting soaked.

“I’m parked in the exec section” he said smugly, “we can get the lift down.”

She followed him to the lifts and they stood saying nothing waiting for it.  Once inside, doors closed he spoke again “So are you seeing anyone?” he asked “it’s been ages since we chatted.”

“It was the Christmas party” Sarah answered sharply.

“Oh shit yeah” he replied awkwardly.  “Look I’m sorry about all that really I am – you know how it is when everyone’s had a drink.”

For a moment she actually believed him then remembered what had happened “How are the wife and kids?” She asked.  It was a bit of a low blow but he deserved it.

He shuffled uncomfortably but didn’t get to answer before the lift stopped, the doors opening with a ding.

“After you ” he said, allowing her to get out before him.  “I’m just over there” he said pointing towards a rather nice silver car.  She didn’t know anything about cars but it looked expensive.  He clicked his keys and the alarm beeped and lights flashed once.

“Nice car ” Sarah remarked, opening the door and climbing inside.  A lot nicer than the bus she thought to herself.

He threw his bag onto the back seat and climbed in next to her. “You still up near the school?” he asked starting the car.

“Please” she answered pulling on her seat belt and clinging to her bag.

“Cool, it’s on my way not a problem at all.” He smiled again.

She had grown to hate that smile, he was so certain of himself, so confident.  It hadn’t always been that way though, she’d been out with him and a few friend after work a few times after she’d first started working at the practice and he was never an arsehole.

“They’re all arseholes” her mum would tell her, “especially the married ones.”  She really was not good at taking advice.

James turned on the radio as they drove through the rain heading up through the town centre. “So, you never answered my question” he said looking across at her.

“And you never answered mine.”

“Oh come on” he replied laughing “you aren’t still cross with me are you?”

“Are you serious?” She really wished she’d caught the bus.

“It was just a bit of fun” he insisted “you know how it is.”

“it really hurt ok, you shouldn’t have done that to me, not in front of everyone.”

“I know I know” he said turning down the radio as they left the business of town and turned onto the bypass.  “I just thought you wanted to you know.”

“Jesus James” she snapped “I was drunk – everyone saw us!”

“Sarah, I know I was wrong okay, I’m really sorry.”

She stared out of the window watching the lights of the passing cars stream by, rain running down her window.

“Forgive me” he asked gently, looking across to catch her eye.

“Fine ” she said looking back across at him, she smiled.  “You can give me a lift next time it rains as well” she joked “then we’re quits okay.”

“Deal” he grinned turning the radio back up a little “you can have a lift anytime you want.”

“Just next time will be fine” Sarah answered, for the first time loosening her grip on her bag just a little. “Take the next left” she instructed “it’s a bit quicker.”

“No problem” James replied indicating and taking the corner then pulling to a stop.

“What are you doing?” Sarah asked pointing up the hill, “It’s still a way up there.”

James turned off the engine.  “Can I be honest with you?” he asked, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the back of her chair.

“James, can we just go please” she snapped “I need to get home.”

“Just let me say this, ”  he insisted “Ever since that night I’ve thought about you a lot okay.”

“Jesus Christ!” she exclaimed “are you serious?”

“Oh come on” he continued placing a hand on her leg “no one needs to know, it’s no big deal.”

Sarah quickly unbuckled her belt and slapped his hand away from her leg, grabbed her bag and climbed out of the car into the rain.

“You’re an arsehole!” she shouted, “an absolute arsehole!”

“Sarah, come back please” he shouted.  She stood staring at him saying nothing, watching the rain fall onto the car seat through the open door.  “You’re getting my car soaked!” he shouted “are you getting back in or not?”

He didn’t wait long for an answer and reaching across the passenger seat he pulled the door closed.  “You mention this at work and I’ll just deny it!” he shouted through the still open window.  “No one will believe you” he continued, his face angry and his eyes narrowed.  Without waiting for her to answer he slammed the car into gear and roared off, leaving her alone again in the darkness.

Sarah pulled the belt of her coat tight, watching the red lights of the car shimmer in the rain and disappear into the night.  This time, she decided, this time she wouldn’t cry.

 

 


Want to read more of my stuff?  No.  Don’t blame you, no offence taken.

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/a-collection-of-miserable-limericks/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/

Https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/shimmer/

 

 

 

 

You absolute tanka!

I’m still not sure I’m truly embracing the spirit of these…

It’s TANKA time!

Note to self.  First 5 lines set the scene, next two express how I feel about said scene.  I’ll give it a try.  Not sure whether they will be serious or not yet…


How he hates himself

All night cavorting naked

Vodka fuelled hookers

This morning he has no pride

And he has crabs, poor fellow


Pride march, jubilant

See the hate on their faces

Those who disapprove

Get them an umbrella it’s

Raining men hallelujah!


 

How she hates his face

such pride, always being right

Her mum wasn’t wrong

She hid her joy when he died

And got herself a boob job


See him strut, such pride

Men hating as from the hot

Women, he chooses

Still alone night after night

4 inches is not average


 

Want to read more of my stuff?

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/a-collection-of-miserable-limericks/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/


https://butismileanyway.com/2017/08/08/colleens-weekly-poetry-challenge-45-haiku-hate-pride/

Photo courtesy of Peterkraayvanger @  Pixabay

One Word Photo Challenge: Horse

Only occasionally did the fat bottomed girl come to ride him, so for the most part he was rather content.

“Good morning Horse” said Chicken, scratching around in the dry earth for something to eat.

“You’re up early” Horse replied curiously, ambling slowly to the fence and shaking his head. “I don’t usually see you around here.” He munched on a particularly sweet clump of grass at the foot of the paddock fencing.  Chickens usually stick to their own end of the farm he thought to himself.

“I didn’t sleep well” Chicken replied, “they stole my babies again yesterday, bastards they are!”

“Again?” Horse responded quizzically, “Do they steal your babies often?”  This sounded rather terrible he thought.

“Every time!” Chicken responded, quite upset.  “And it isn’t just me.  Every morning they turn up and take our babies away and there is nothing we can do!”

Horse considered this for a while.  “Nothing at all?” he asked still chewing.

“Not a thing!” Chicken replied.  “Have you seen the size of them?”

“They Don’t look that big to me” he replied slowly, swishing his tail.

Horse didn’t object to them particularly, they fed him when he was hungry and in the winter he had a blanket to cover him when it was cold.  Only occasionally did the fat bottomed girl come to ride him, so for the most part he was rather content.

“Obviously they don’t look big to you!” Chicken scolded “Look at you, you’re huge!”

“Hmmm.” said horse, he was not one to anger quickly but this sounded most wrong.

“Juliette once tried to give them a good scratch and she got her neck wrung” Chicken continued most animated “how would you like it if someone was stealing your babies and wringing your neck!?” she demanded.

“Most disturbing” Horse ruminated.  “Most disturbing indeed.”

Horse considered the situation for some time.  He chewed and he thought and he thought and he chewed.  “And it’s the fat bottomed girl that steals the babies is it?” he asked.

“Indeed it is, indeed it is!” Chicken replied most upset, “every day she steals my babies!”

“Hmmm” Horse said again.  “Not good , not good at all” he mumbled to himself.  “Stealing babies indeed.”

“But nothing can be done” said Chicken sadly, “nothing at all!”

Horse said nothing and resumed his breakfast as chicken wandered back to her side of the yard, pecking and scratching and muttering under her breath as she went.

Days and weeks passed, and weeks turned into months and Horse did not see chicken again, but he did not forget the story she had told him of the fat bottomed girl and how she stole Chicken’s babies.

A thin layer of snow lay upon the ground the day fat bottomed girl came to see him. It had fallen unseasonably early he thought as she fastened his blanket on nice and snug.  “I hope it isn’t going to be a long winter” he thought to himself.

The girl with the fat bottom only screamed ever so slightly as he kicked out at her as she walked behind him, and as she lay on the ground, blood pooling in the snow about her head he thought of Chicken and her babies before returning to his breakfast.

 


Want to read more of my stuff?

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/a-collection-of-miserable-limericks/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/

 

Photo courtesy of Jennifer Nichole Wells

One Word Photo Challenge

 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/Amble/

Ichabod the first

Imagine if you will, London, 1887.

Narrator:  Imagine if you will, London, 1887.  Thick fog rolls in across the city, and somewhere down a back alley in Whitechapel, just a short walk from the Thames,  Enid Thickett has just finished servicing one of her regular customers.  

He is a portly fellow of good standing who goes by the name of Ichabod White,  and fortunately for Enid he has a thick purse and a penchant for grubby women of a particular girth.  He also has little stamina to speak of which in Enid’s line of work is a real benefit.

To be sure it is not a night for good people like you and I, this is a night when decent folk are safely tucked up in their beds.

“As ever my dear, it was a real treat!” Ichabod insists buttoning his britches.  “have you put on a little weight” He asks, playfully slapping her rather round bottom as she rearranges herself, “You look jolly good in this light I must say.”

“Cheeky Devil” Enid laughs, she knows how to keep her customers happy.  As foul breath and fuelled on cheap liqueur as they might well be, they were a means to an end, and regular customers like Ichabod White were becoming increasingly valuable.

“More of me to enjoy I reckons” she continues, fingering the cold coins in her pocket, the taste of him still on her lips. “Same time next week?” she asks, an awkward toothless smile breaking out across her face.

Ichabod reaches into his vest and from a bulging purse pulls out another coin tosses it to her.  “Afraid not my dear” he answers tucking his purse back into his vest, I am a man of many appetites and a chap I know from the Lieutenant General’s office has introduced me to a number of his acquaintances.”  He grins broadly.  “This was a farewell so to speak.”

Narrator:  It is at this point where our story takes a turn for the worse.  Or perhaps for the better, that depends entirely on your point of view.   Ichabod White was for the most part a good man, and as noble a gesture as a farewell might appear to him he was to discover that it was the very catalyst for what was to happen next.  

Enid always carried her knife for protection, and as she wiped it on her dress placing it back inside her coat, she considered how he Ichabod had screamed and how he  had insisted that it really was not his fault and that he would most certainly be back next week.

She did not care for his screaming or his promises, and she did not one jot care for those that would steal her business.


 

Want to read more of my stuff?

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/a-collection-of-miserable-limericks/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/

Photo courtesy of Webandi @ Pixabay

wp-image-2034442149https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/Foggy/

 

 

Sunday Photo Fiction

A short piece about stupid people…

“We need to back love” Colin insisted,  “we need to cross over then carry on on the other side of the road.”

“Jesus Colin” Carole replied tensely, “it’s like 20 metres, it will be fine – I am not going all the way back to the crossing back there!” she insisted, pointing back down the street.  “I’m not going to go all the way back and around for 20 metres!”

” We need to be careful” Colin insisted meekly, “heavens knows why they’ve out that sign up.  It could be dangerous honey.”

“It will be fine!” she insisted forcefully “I can’t see anyone working at all.  Typical really, I bet they’re all drinking coffee for the umpteenth time today!”  Carole had little time for most people, but layabouts – well they were a real pet hate.

Carole grabbed Colin’s arm forcefully “good god man, come on” she snapped.  “My feet are killing and I want to get home” she insisted, dragging him after her.

He was just about to insist that this was a rather foolish course of action when he was interrupted by Carole’s terrified scream and a gruff voice shouting “LOOK OUT BELOW!”

The very last thing that Colin would see would be the look on Carole’s face, one he had seen many times before.  it was the one that insisted that this was all his fault.


 

Photo courtesy of J Hardy Carroll


 

Want to read more of my stuff?

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/a-collection-of-miserable-limericks/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/

 

https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2017/08/06/sunday-photo-fiction-august-6th-2017/

 

 

99 Word Challenge – Sound

From the forest into my room they creep…

Each night it starts with a scratch scratch scratch on my window.  I close my eyes and hope this it is just branches blowing against my window,  but it never is.

From the forest into my room they creep, scuttling across the ceiling, shrouded in darkness.  Skull less eyes glow red, foul hissing breath on my skin as they envelop me.  I lie frozen and unable to scream as their claws caress me, hungry tongues snaking out to feast on my fear.

With a full belly they return to the night and I am free to scream, too late.


 

Photo courtesy of RGerber @ pixabay

August 3: Flash Fiction Challenge

You did what to my Gran!?!?

Consider if you will, how easily a message is transformed by a casually mis-typed emoji.

I’m sure we are all familiar with the tale of the mother who assumed that LOL meant ‘lots of love’ and sent a message to her son informing him of the death of his Grandmother signed off with LOL.

Consider now if you will, how easily a message is transformed by a casually mis-typed emoji.

No?  Let me give you an example or two.

wp-image-1226434679

I saw your gran last night 🙂   is wholly different to  I saw your gran last night 😉

You accidentally add a winky face to that and it gets rather uncomfortable for me.  I’m suddenly wanting to know where you saw her because she should have been at bingo.  Then I want to know why you were hanging around her and why to god you added a winky face which can only mean something a little sexy.  I do not want you having any sexy time with my gran.  Good heavens.  Stick to a nice smiley and we’re still going to be friends.

God forbid that comes from like a parent or a sibling, that’s a whole new level of messed up and there is no way I can spend Christmas with you all.

More?

wp-image-1755908686

Now imagine you were to send the following:

I saw your sister and her husband at the park yesterday.

If you add the tongue out winky face instead of the regular smiley face then again I am wondering wtf, was getting sexy with my gran not enough for you?  I am then forced to ask what in the blazes happened with my sister and her rather dull accountant husband Greg that required any sort of tonguing?  They’re not the tonguing type of people.  Please stop.

At this point I am considering having to ask you to leave me and my family alone.

 

wp-image-1226434679 wp-image-1755908686  wp-image-1729823862

There are lines one should not cross, and I think careful typing is essential to ensure that you do not send the message below with the smiley icons above:

Hey stranger, popped round to your place but you weren’t in.  Was great to see your mum and dad after all these years  

That is too far, I mean sweet Jesus what sexy stuff did you do that made you go all winky face and then then cry?  Was it both touching and deviant?  Were there  cuddles?

I now want you to delete me from your phone and call the authorities.

So there you have it.  Just a few tips…be careful out there.  Next week I intend to explore the incorrect use of the abbreviation for ‘At The Moment’.

Michael

 


Want to read more of my stuff?  No.  Don’t blame you, no offence taken.

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/a-collection-of-miserable-limericks/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/casual/

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/casual/

Title photo courtesy of JohnHain @ Pixabay

Headline News – #Sunday Photo Fiction

“What you got in the box?” Thomas asked quizzically as Wednesday stepped from the car.

“What you got in the box?” Thomas asked quizzically as Wednesday stepped from the car.  He was dressed head to toe in black, which seemed wholly inappropriate for the desert.

“A head” replied Wednesday very much as if that’s exactly what he didn’t have.  “I cut it off of one Alphonso White!”

“Whoa!  That’s big money you got in there amigo!” said Thomas excitedly, taking the box and opening it to take a look inside.

“It is indeed my friend” Wednesday replied proudly.  “Biggest mobster on the Eastern Seaboard – huge bounty – and I have his pudgy wee head in a box!”

“How’d you bag him” Thomas asked looking somewhat panicked.  These were not the sort of people whose head you snatched willy nilly.  “His people know you took him?”

“No they don’t, it was a complete fluke” Wednesday grinned, “I was following him to get an idea of his security and the daft arses ended up in a big old pile up, everyone dead.  I managed to nip in and lop off his noggin!”

Thomas closed the box and handed it back, and pointed to a convoy of black SUV’s hurtling towards them.

“I think we may have a problem…”

 

 

200 words

photo © A Mixed Bag 2009

https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/15441533/posts/1542925449

For more on Thomas and Wednesday take a look here

More miserable and inappropriate limericks – Not for the kiddies

Limericks about the darker side of life….Today I think I shall perhaps write about sexual harassment in the work place.

Limericks about the darker side of life….Today I think I shall perhaps write about sexual harassment in the work place, prison abuse and the evils of drugs.  All of which I know absolutely nothing.     Remember, It’s not big and it’s not clever…any of this.


A lass at our work called Tallulah

Approached a young lad with a ruler

proclaimed “Three and a half”

He:”You’re having a laugh, 

and it’s cold so do not let that fool ya”!


 

 

A young lad caught fiddling the books 

got locked up with the rapists and crooks

spent his days filled with dread

frightful thoughts in his head 

pretty mouth, lovely hair, rugged looks


A woman I knew, Enid Black

smoked some weed for an ache in her back 

then she dabbled in coke 

which she got from “some bloke” 

Now spends all day selling boobies for crack


 

There was another here but I think it goes too far but I struggle with boundaries…so if you choose to read it you have to scroll and scroll and scroll. 


 

Want to read more of my stuff?  No.  Don’t blame you, no offence taken.

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/a-collection-of-miserable-limericks/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Husband wants rape sex role play

“Bloody hell no!” says wifey “No way!”

“That the spirit!” he cries

all ‘Trumpesque’ grabs her thighs

Now hes single, in jail, wife turned gay


 

Screw you haiku vol 3

The point of these?  I cant remember to be honest, I think perhaps it’s turning into a defiling of the haiku form really.

Some days the best I can muster is a handful of rather poor and inappropriate haiku.  Today is one of those.

For volume 1 and volume 2 click on the clicky things.

The point of these?  I cant remember to be honest, I think perhaps it’s turning into a defiling of the haiku form really.


First day of diet

ate a whole box of meringues

maybe tomorrow


Bottle of vodka

turns out I’m not the batman

seems I cannot fly


Wakes up, strange bed, her

Face like a thick pool of sick

damn beer goggles


Kids used my toothbrush

scrubbed the toilet bowl with theirs

dysentery, oops.


Not sure about these

Off to research haiku verse

I’m sorry Japan


 

For something a little more pleasant you might possibly like this…

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/toothbrush/

Brothers #writephoto

Before he knew it Sam had punched him squarely in the nose.  Tom fell to the floor  clutching his face

“I dare you!” Thomas urged, pushing his brother in the back.  “Go on, go in there – it’ll be fine, he isn’t home.”

Sam turned on his brother.  Thomas was always so quick to volunteer someone else when it came to doing something stupid. “You go, I’m not going in there mum will kill me if I get caught”

“Big baby” laughed Thomas, the sun reflecting off his mop of yellow hair “I don’t know what you’re so scared of!”

“Shut up” shouted Sam, pushing his brother in the chest “you go in there then if you’re so brave!”

“Don’t need to, I have nothing to prove.”  Thomas teased.  He was 2 years younger but already an inch taller than Sam and the scar above his eye was proof that he wasn’t one for caution.

“And I do?” Sam asked “I’m not going in there.  I’m not scared I just don’t want to.”

“No of course you aren’t” Thomas smirked.

“I swear Tom, you’re such an idiot.”

“If I am I’m an idiot who isn’t scared to go near old man Hopkins’ place!”

“You know what Tom” Sam replied, fists clenched.  “Call me scared again and I’m going to punch you in the mouth!”  This always happened – Tom would come up with some stupid game or dangerous idea then get everyone else to do it and wouldn’t shut up until something went wrong.  It always did.

“Ha!  I’m not scared of you Sam!” Tom teased, “You’re the scared one remember!”

Before he knew it Sam had punched him squarely in the nose.  Tom fell to the floor  clutching his face. “You absolute idiot Sam!” Tom roared, blood already trickling from his nose “why did you have to do that I was only joking!”  He wiped his nose of the back of his hand, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Shit sorry Tom” Sam said reaching out to help his brother up “I didn’t mean to do that, honest!”  He might be annoying but he was his little brother.

“Oh you swore!” Said Tom laughing, taking his brother’s hand “just you wait until I tell mum!”

“God Tom” Sam smiled, “you’re such an idiot!  How about we go in there together”

“Go on then, I’ll keep you safe” he grinned.  “Then we need to get home, mum will be worried if we’re late”

 


Photo courtesy of Sue Vincent

Scratch – Daily prompt

I’m going to share one from the archives. Think this only ever got 1 view as it was done before almost all of you started reading me.

Michael's avatarAfterwards

Only theincessant scratch scratch scratch of quill on parchment breaks the stonysilence. Head down, failing eyes squintingthe gnarled hand grips the long gull feather with aching fingers.The thick leather bound ledger, with its yellowing pages, drinks in each slow and deliberate mark he makes. Each page filled with names, amounts, dates. Simple transactions in a ledger. A dark celebration of the efficiency of books well kept.He looks up as the door swings open slowly,wincing as the late afternoon sun streams through illuminating the room within.The scratching stops. Both the sunlight and the stranger are not welcome, and already he knowswhat happens next.

The dilapidated strangerstands before him, cap in hand and eyes filled with a sadness he has seen so often in so many men in these recent years.

“I am looking for my wife and children” he states quite calmly, voice trembling. “You sold them 7 years ago and…

View original post 73 more words

Colleen’s Weekly #Poetry Challenge # 44 – #Haiku: HUNT & FIND

I’m going to give this Tanka lark a go, never done one of those before.  I might even do a few.  Think Haiku with a couple more 7 syllable lines tossed in for good measure.

I’m going to give this Tanka lark a go, never done one of those before.  I might even do a few.  Think Haiku with a couple more 7 syllable lines tossed in for good measure…


We hunt the dark skies

searching for a sign of life

but what if we find?

watching people lose their minds

religion out the window


Lurking somewhere safe

I hunt but I cannot find

somewhere forgotten

Has anyone seen my keys?

I’m already late for work!


Summer holiday

kids want to go in the pool

hunt for the factor 50

man boobs jiggling in the sun

cannot find my self esteem


 

Hmmm…not sure I’m cut out for serious endeavours such as this…you can read about my previous encounter with the traditional haiku here.

 


Look can you see mike

hunt everywhere for a wife

he finds a girlfriend

dates her and took her doggy

out to the park for a walk


 

Ohhhh…First 3 lines are meant to set the scene, last 2 express how It makes me feel.  Let’s try again.

 


Watch children growing

find their own path in this life

from boys to young men

Tidy your bloody bedroom

and take a shower you stink!


difficult to find

I hunt for my inner voice

must write a Tanka

maybe this isn’t for me 

think I’ll just go have breakfast

 


Picture courtesy of tombud @ pixabay.


https://colleenchesebro.com/2017/08/01/colleens-weekly-poetry-challenge-44-haiku-haibun-or-tanka-hunt-find/

 

 

 

I seem to be on a diet

I was tempted to toss the strawberries and a couple of meringues directly into my mouth and top it up with the can of squirty cream that’s in the fridge…

I wrote previously about being fat,  and since that post – despite great consideration – did precisely nothing about it.  Unless of course you were to count the two meals below, which I think may actually have had exactly the opposite effect of a nice salad and a walk in the park.  I am no nutritionist though, so cannot be absolutely certain on that point.

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The feast above was enjoyed (and shared) at Miller and Carter in Huddersfield, and whilst there is an abundance of Salad I imagine the benefits were likely undone by the lashings of dressing and the presence of an entire deep fried crab.  Again, I would welcome a steer on that point from someone in the know.

Now the next meal I enjoyed at the Bottomley Arms in Halifax, and the ultimate burger seems something they are rather proud of.

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After eating as much of it as I could, washed down with a cheeky gin and tonic or two, I realised that perhaps any item of food that has the word ‘Ultimate’ in the description is unlikely to prepare one for a lengthy session in the gym.

Equally, another indication as to its inappropriateness for exertion of any type other than the loosening of one’s belt and sweating on the way back to the car may have been the use of the phrase ‘…and even more onion rings and cheese…”

I’m pretty sure it had pulled pork on it.  I vaguely recall the use of the words ‘succulent’,  ‘juicy’ and ‘hand pulled’ at some point in the evening.

Anyway, I checked both Slimming World and Weight Watchers websites in the hope that perhaps I could pass them off under a few ‘healthy B’s’ or maybe they might come in under a daily ‘points total’ but alas not.  Both sites simply confirmed that not only am I big boned with a healthy appetite but I am also somewhat delusional.

So, that being said I awoke this morning and for some reason thought, “why don’t you get on the scale.”  You want to know the number don’t you.  Yeah well I think perhaps I’ll keep that for another day but what I will say is that I decided that I would have a go at not having bacon for breakfast and take it from there.  What I did have was this:

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It was ok I guess, for a breakfast that was not pork based.  What I will say is that I didn’t need a lie down after it so that’s something right?

Admittedly, I was tempted to toss the strawberries and a couple of meringues directly into my mouth and top it up with the can of squirty cream that’s in the fridge.  I was worried though that should I have a stroke and fall down dead at that very moment it would scar the kids for life when they found me lying there, clad only in my underpants,  Eton mess spilling from my mouth and looking like I’d succumbed to rabies.

So we shall see how it goes, and I will continue to share.  I may well have to change the featured image in this photo if I get a chance later because I feel like that woman with the fruit is just mocking me.

Family #writephoto

“Oh will it, will it” Jean snapped “remember when you said you could do that charity walk with the cricket club and you couldn’t walk for a week after”

“You are going to live In a what!?” her mother asked quizzically, peering over the rim of her glasses.  She didn’t wait for an answer as it sunk in, she seldom did.  “Did you hear that Ronald, did you hear where they’re going to live?”

“Yes Jean” he replied sounding rather tired,  quickly folding his newspaper and scurrying to the kitchen to put the kettle on and to see if he could catch the football results on the radio.

“Mum, it will be fine, don’t worry ok.” said Leslie, she had expected this response.

“Do you still take sugar Leslie?” Ronald shouted from the kitchen as he fiddled with the radio.

“No thanks Dad, just milk please” she shouted back.

“Why on earth would you want do that dear?” Jean continued, “People like us don’t live in places like that.”

“We think it will be a wonderful  opportunity mum, John has looked into it and we agree that it would be a great adventure for us and the kids”

“Do you want a biscuit Leslie?”

“No thanks dad” Leslie responded “I’m having dinner when I get home.”

“Ok, more for me!”

“Mum, I know it sounds a bit crazy but you’ll love it I promise.”

“Honestly Leslie, what will the reading circle ladies think.  A windmill indeed.”  She shifted uncomfortably in her chair.  “You know dear, I don’t think we could possibly visit you know, surely it’s full of steps.  You know how your father is with his bad knee.”

“I’m sure it will be fine” came a contrary voice from the kitchen.

“Oh will it, will it” Jean snapped “remember when you said you could do that charity walk with the cricket club and you couldn’t move for a week after”

“Jean I will be fine.”

“Well don’t come crying to me begging for a lift when you can’t get to the pub because your knee is all swollen!”  Jean folded her arms defiantly and lowered her tone.  “I just think it’s frightfully selfish dear” she continued, “think of your father please.”

“Mum, it’s already done, John signed the papers and we move in in three weeks time.”

Jean said nothing as Ronald brought the tea through on a large round tray.  He’d also brought biscuits.  Ronald did like a nice biscuit with his cup of tea.

“So” aid Ronald cheerfully, handing Leslie a cup of tea.  “Tell me all about this new house you’ve got yourself.”

 

 

 

 

Photo courtesy of Sue Vincent

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy Yorkshire Day!

A place of never ending happiness where you can always see the sun…

I don’t really write about stuff like this.  I’m no travel blogger, I’m not very good at photography but I am a proud Yorkshireman.

I will not though make this about Yorkshire pudding, flat caps or whippets.  Indeed, I will also avoid all and any references to Geoffrey Boycott, Sean Bean or the Yorkshire ripper.

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Instead I will simply share a few photographs of the Piece Hall in Halifax which reopened this morning after 3 years or so or renovations.

As you can see from the photo below, it has a really big door which is ideal for ingress and exit.  Useful.

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Above you can see smiling Yorkshire people who I can assure you will do their best not to tell you why Yorkshire is better that wherever you are from.

 

Dating from 1779, when it was built as a Cloth Hall for the trading of ‘pieces’ of cloth (a 30 yard length of woven woollen fabric produced on a handloom),

The Piece Hall was the most Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah blah  – who cares really…It is just pretty cool and a great place to waste a few hours.

 

Below you can see some of the many places to sit, useful if you are tired from standing or walking, or just like sitting.

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As glorious as it is mostly I just like to go there and have an ice cream with the kids and watch people go by.  More restaurants, cafe’s and bars have been added now so even more reason for me to visit.

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In the photograph above you can see people doing stuff.  As people do.  I think that man is looking for a toilet, of which the Piece Hall has many.

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The piece hall has fabulous accessibility, with ramps as far as they eye can see and loads of lifts.  Perfect for people with mobility challenges as well as lazy folk who do not like taking the stairs, of which the Piece Hall also has many.

So if you’re in the Yorkshire area, and looking for something a bit different then it certainly is well worth a look, even if only to have tea and cake or perhaps some lunch or to get hammered in the gin bar and tell your wife what you really think of her mother.

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See why I stick to fiction.

If you found that dull but prefer to read about things I would surely never eat then take a look here.

Michael

 

31 days of Daily prompts – Done!

After a month of completing each and every daily prompt I am going to give myself, for the post of the final day of July, something of a reprieve.

After a month of completing each and every daily prompt I am going to give myself, for the post of the final day of July, something of a reprieve.

I shall certainly be writing about aliens ferreting inside the bottoms of stranger,  I will avoid poetry of a most dubious nature and I will most definitely avoid any writings on the matter of chubby people rutting like beasts in space.

Instead I shall allow myself a most substandard (see what I did there?) effort and just rehash things from the previous month.

Having only started writing this month I have found the daily prompts a brilliant way to focus my ideas and to gain exposure for my thoughts.  If you don’t already, I would certainly advocate using them.

It wasn’t all tomfoolery and deviant imagery this month though, I tried my hand at some serious stuff too and dabbled with the ideas of dementia, child slavery and death.

Admittedly I preferred to write about things more ludicrous but they were still great fun.

So what will August bring?  Not a clue really.  But then that is all part of the fun.

Thanks for reading!

Michael

P.S. – Before you ask, yes – that is indeed my body in the picture.  Or at least the body I would have had were it not for my love of eating jam with a spoon stood in front of the fridge in my underpants in the middle of the night.

 

 


https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/substandard/

Photo courtesy of comfreak @ pixabay

Fatties in space – not one for the kiddies

He devoured her like so many delicious cream buns that had gone before…

So I have this idea for a story right, but I think writing about the idea may be more fun than writing it – for now at least – because my kids read my blog sometimes and it would/will scar them.

Anyway…

The idea is a simple one.  It’s a tale of a company that flies particularly portly people to space so that they can have sex, unencumbered by the forces of gravity which must so inhibit those of a most enormous girth.

Now don’t get me wrong, this is not about fat shaming and I am not talking about your average fat person here, of which I am one, I am talking about your truly rotund specimens that might currently require a small winch to get out of bed or a wall removing from the house should they wish to go out to the shops to buy a sandwich.

Some of the lines I scribbled  down that I wanted to use were …

  • He devoured her like so many delicious cream buns that had gone before.
  • Her high pitched squeals of delight filled his mind with a craving for bacon
  • His heaving mass of desire floated towards her
  • somehow I wanted to work in …when she moved her bottom looked like two piglets fighting in a sack
  • she caressed each of his chins gently, staring into his chocolate pudding eyes
  • Locked together like lust filled sea creatures they drifted through the inky blackness oblivious to everything but the throbbing of…well actually I just had this desire to use the word throbbing in some capacity there.

I’m sure you get the general idea.  It’s very much a tale of passion and desire and fulfilment and there is a scene where our star crossed lovers Barry and Janet float across their chamber of love with him positioned behind her, hands on her hips and a large bowl of pudding in the very large small of her back.

Admittedly the idea needs some work but as a general idea I think its quite an evocative one.  Perhaps its chocolate dipped strawberries – that might work better.

So one for more consideration I think, it might make it to my blog it might not.  time will tell.


 

 

Want to read more of my stuff?  No.  Don’t blame you, no offence taken.

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/a-collection-of-miserable-limericks/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/lust/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

More sombre limericks…kind of.

Today I’d like to explore the frailty of our existence. through the medium of limerick.

I’ve rather enjoyed the attempts at sombre limericks of late and being a little pushed for time to write this week they still give me chance to write as they don’t take long.

Today I’d like to explore the frailty of our existence. through the medium of limerick.

So here you go, another 4…though these will be the last for some time as they’re getting rather dark and a bit weird if I’m being honest.


A lass I once worked with called Jane 

Had a tumour removed from her brain 

She went to celebrate 

Thinking yeah this is great 

But got hit on way home by a train 


My friend knew a girl, quite the dancer 

Really hot so he thought he’d romance her

Woo’d her hard, they got wed 

Had two kids then dropped dead 

Nobody knew she’d brain cancer 


 Mum loved  chicken and steak, cheese and bread 

Quite often ate cake in her bed 

Scoffing chocolate and sweeties 

Got real fat,  diabetes 

Lost 3 toes then one summer fell dead 


Old dame lived alone in a flat 

Had no family or friends fancy that

Fell, banged her head on the ground 

3 weeks ’till she was found 

Decomposed, face chewed off by her cat


 

Want to read more of my stuff?  No.  Don’t blame you, no offence taken.

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/29/a-collection-of-miserable-limericks/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/

 

On the matter of eating endangered species

Following a drunken discussion at the pub.

I would not eat a panda

it does not appeal to me

Despite it being grass fed

and not tough and quite juicy

It’s flesh I would not sauté

bake or broil or steam or fry

I would not make some pastry

and then bake it in a pie

 

Please do not serve me blue whale

it would surely be obscene

To brown it in a skillet

with chopped garlic and some cream

I could not sample blow hole

or a steak of flesh most pink

Do not prepare me sperm whale

or an orca or a mink

 

Bald Eagle’s off the menu

it could never pass my lips  

I’d never shallow fry it

And then serve it with some chips

Please do not bring it to me

if you do I will reject

The smorgasbord of tasty

claws and wings and beaks and necks

 

Be gone you furry entrée

do not ask me to abide

A puppy stuffed with kitten

and Koala on the side

It leaves me feeling queasy

and on me it does repeat

I gag on eucalyptus

flavoured mar-su-pi-al meat

 

I’d never eat a chilli

made of simians for sure

Orang-utan with lentils

that I surely would deplore

I’d not enjoy chim-pan-zee

milk poached with fresh vanilla

I’d rather eat a salad

than bar-be-cued gorilla

 

But pig and cow I’ll gorge on

and chickens fill the belly

Once eels I even sampled

But the hot ones not in jelly

So why’s each species different

some not headed for the pot

whilst others we eat freely

quite delicious cold or hot

——————————————————–

Fancy something else?

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/

 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/shallow/

The continuing exploration of my fascination with alien probing

Malan eased the sleek silver craft to the ground, ion drives humming quietly and three silver legs sliding out slowly to cushion the ships gradual descent.

Malan eased the sleek silver craft to the ground, ion drives humming quietly and three silver legs sliding out slowly to cushion the ships gradual descent.

“This looks as good a place as any” said Malan as the craft settled snugly into a clearing in the middle of a large wooded expanse.  His voice was full of excitement as a green light on the panel lit up to indicate that recharging had commenced and a second blinked to indicate that there were no locals within a 1 quillet radius.

“We’re here dear” he grinned “shall I put the kettle on and we can get straight to it?”

His clan mate ran a clawed hand through thick blue fur and grunted approvingly.

“make sure the system’s are running on low power” she bristled, her thick tail swishing impatiently “we need to keep usage low until we’ve recharged enough to make the next leg.”

Their unplanned detour to this awful blue and green galactic backwater was made only slightly more pleasant by the promise of the opportunity to do some probing, something she took great delight in.

“How many did you pick up for me?” Zarb asked curtly.

“Just the one” Malan said eagerly, “there seem to be rather a lot of them so he won’t be missed for a few hours I’m sure. ”

“They all looked like pests to me!” she snapped.  “Hardly worth our time I’d imagine”

He was lucky to have her he reminded himself – the benefits of a wealthy family – and she was a quite magnificent specimen when she was vexed.  Standing tall she was half again as large as he, her glossy fur thick and blue and a quite magnificent tail that made him want to do nothing more than please her.

Zarb punched away at a small hand held console.  “According to this there are already a number of recorded instances of probing across a number of the species on the planet” she said curtly “I guess we won’t be getting any ‘first finder’ recognition!  Records seem to indicate a mostly primitive society.”

Malan brought her over a steaming cup of tea, the writhing thrubar tentacles curling around the lip of the mug made her purr with delight as she slurped them into her sharply toothed mouth.  “Right, let’s meet our visitors shall we” she said almost smiling.

Malan coughed nervously.

“What?” she snapped.

“He does seem rather annoying”

“Annoying?  What do you mean annoying?”

“Well, just a little backwards and he really will not shut up”

“What do you expect” Zarb snarled, “an unpleasant rock such as this is hardly going to be the most intriguing of places is it.  I’d be surprised if we were able to learn a single thing of interest from him.”

“I suppose” Malan replied, suddenly feeling deflated.  “I just wanted it to be fun you know – special – it’s been a while since we’ve done this together.”  Despite her frightful temper he really did admire her and as clan mate’s went she was the envy of many of his colleagues and friends.

“Perhaps just turn your translator off” Malan suggested, “we can still have fun without listening.”

“Hush will you!” she snapped.  “Let’s just see what we have shall we.”  Zarb put aside her tea and pushed past him and headed to the medical bay.

The first thing she noticed about the earthling was just how small he was.  Small and pink.  He seemed to have a light covering of fur in a few places but mostly he displayed a rather repulsive amount of flesh.  “How revolting!” she said scornfully as Malan followed closely behind her.

Upon hearing her voice the creature turned his head towards her and started shouting something, his eyes wide.  Zarb had no idea what he was saying but she thought she would at least entertain it for a while, he might actually turn out to be interesting.

She walked across to a small panel and with a curled claw punched a sequence into a keypad.  With a crackle she began to hear the previously unintelligible ramblings translated as he spoke them.

“…You will be purged ..something something…” the translator was struggling a little.

“Animated fellow isn’t he” Zarb remarked, picking up a large probe from the array of tools at the end of the silver bench to which he was strapped.

“…and fire and death will descend upon you…” he continued, his eyes bulging wide as she walked towards him smiling.

“Fire and death eh” Zarb smiled menacingly “I think I may keep him awake for this you know Malan.”

Malan congratulated himself on bringing such pleasure to his clan mate as the creature continued to rage and thrash.

“…and you will be destroyed and you will submit to the… something …will of the most something…Alan Akbar!”

“Alan Akbar” Zarb remarked, “you ever heard of an Alan Akbar, Malan” she asked, now most definitely grinning.

“Alan Akbar?  No dear” Malan replied playfully “never heard of the chap.”

“Well my little pink friend” She continued menacingly, running a claw slowly down the creatures stomach, “unless this Alan Akbar is about to burst through the door an rescue you you’re going to feel this descend on you most imminently!”

She held up the probe and something in the creatures response told her that it knew exactly what would happen next.

“Malan, be a dear turn the translator off will you” she asked smiling, “I think we will do this the old fashioned way…”

 


Whilst this piece can be read on its own there are other pieces which give it some greater context which you can find here and then here.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/pest/
 

The toils of motherhood

Three weeks ago I started writing and in those first days I think I wrote some good stuff that I don’t think many people read. Hers a new blogger who you might enjoy and that might benefit from the encouragement of new readers.

Nisha Joshi's avatarLife lessons

My mother-in-law had finished her lecture (for the nth time), about how she had efficiently looked after my husband and his brother when they were just babies in their cloth diapers. Presumably she had had sleepless nights, mornings full of work, illnesses to be dealt with, school work and possibly fought a war with aliens too, by the looks of it. But she managed all that by not taking her children out of the house but taking them out. Yes, you read that right.

I quizzically looked at my 3 month old baby slumbering peacefully in his cradle. My first (and terrifying) thought was, “Were we going to end up like that, too?”

Now let me get this straight. I love my baby. I really do. He is the light of my life. But I value my sleep. And my life. There, I said it. I’m already struggling a bit…

View original post 138 more words

A collection of hopefully sad limericks.

Limericks are so playful and whimsical and done right, usually rather funny.  My aim is to do quite the opposite. How did I do?

On Mondays I like to allow myself a little more freedom from the discipline of the more structured writing schedule that I have set for myself.  

Last Monday I explored the idea of the inappropriate Haiku which you can read here

Limericks are so playful and whimsical and done right, usually rather funny.  My aim is to do quite the opposite.  So, can the limerick be sad?  Perhaps you’d like to leave your own in the comments?


A young lad I knew as a senior

he got cancer, I think ’twas leukaemia

the treatment it failed

he got thinner and paled

and then died and his wife got bulimia


My dad was a drunk and a cheat

every weekend my mother he beat

took her cash to do drugs

bringing home sluts and thugs

’till we all ended up on the street


First time we met how I tried

not to love, but I made her my bride

then the marriage it failed

when her sister I nailed 

Took her life, overdose, suicide


My dog, my best friend always true

dedicated to me through and through

Drunk, I left the door wide

and she ran straight outside

got ran over and died now I’m blue

 

A chap that I know who loves choir 

had to quit giving up his desire 

he could not harmonise 

when he lost both his eyes 

and his tongue when he fell in a fire 


I think I’ll stop there, I’m not sure that I’m trying hard enough to make them sad.  Or maybe I should blame the limerick, either way I hope it’s not too inappropriate and I think it goes to show that even the most serious of subjects find some lightness in a limerick.



Want to read more of my stuff?  No.  Don’t blame you, no offence taken.

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/probing-a-cautionary-tale/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/03/first-blog-post/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/14/we-unlikely-few/



 https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/harmonize/