Daily Prompt – Confess

In a not too distant future perhaps…

Advertisements

Gemma lay her head on James’ chest and he smiled.  Two months they’d been together now and James still couldn’t believe how lucky he was.  The world had changed a lot in the last decade and to find someone as amazing as her really was something special.

She pressed herself into him sighing and he placed a kiss on the top of her head.

“You’re amazing” he said and closed his eyes.  “There’s something I need to tell you though“he continued.

He felt her tense slightly.  “Okay” she said slowly.  She could hear his heart racing furiously in his chest.

“It’s about my dad” he said, “there’s a reason you’ve never met him.”

“Uh-huh” she said listening “you said he left in 2020, when the wall went up and the Emperor was crowned.”

James paused.

“It wasn’t just his politics” he continued, eyes still closed.

“What was it?” Gemma asked.  “It’s okay babe, you can trust me.”

James breathed deep.

“My dad was one quarter African American.  That makes me one sixteenth.”

Gemma said nothing and time seemed to stand still.

“Babe?” he said opening his eyes.

“Shit James” she said sitting upright.

“What?” he asked, face now ashen.  “What is it…”

She turned slowly to look at him, tears streaming down her face.

“I’m MAGA James.  I have to report this.”

 

 


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

These simply aren’t my fault.

I blame the United Nations for the quality of these haiku…

So sat at lunch Tuesday 19th of September and I thought I would scribble a few haiku, as one does.  Unfortunately on the TV behind me is Donald Trump at the UN and my intention to write of nature and butterflies and waterfalls and all manner of gorgeous natural wonderment ended up as what you read below.  I’m not even American so not sure why I care, perhaps it is because he is so vile.  Anyway, lesson learned is that your environment can have a huge impact on what you are able to write.

I then spent much of the rest of the day swearing at inanimate objects.


Donald at the UN

Flapping gums and tiny hands

Blah blah blah blah blah

 

Cuddly Korean

With your nuclear arsenal

And your dog soufflé

 

Rancid politics

Women ought to be in charge

Men are such morons


That is all I managed before punching a kitten in the face and making a pregnant lady cry, so foul was my demeanour.


More stuff?

Charlie’s Journey – OWPC Challenge

My neighbour Ifraheem

Footprints – An AFA Challenge

 

Daily prompt – Thorny

Glorious – Daily Prompt

Flavius laughed as he took the long handled spear from the older man.  “Honestly, what are you like” he replied “you don’t really think he’s the son of god do you?”

“I’m not doing it ” insisted Octavio, thrusting the spear into the hand of the younger legionnaire. “You can do it, my sister has been going on about this fellow for some time and she will not forgive me if I start getting all stabby with him.”

Flavius laughed as he took the long handled spear from the older man.  “Honestly, what are you like” he replied “you don’t really think he’s the son of god do you?”

They both looked up at the bedraggled man hanging on the cross in front of them.  He really wasn’t having a very good day.

“And besides” Flavius continued, “do you really think giving him a bit of a poke in the side with a spear is any worse than nailing him to a cross?  You didn’t seem to mind a bit of hammering earlier”

Octavio shoved the younger man “Just shut up will you” he said rather annoyed.  The thought of his sister finding out about his role in this whole affair had him feeling rather on edge.

“You don’t know my sister okay, once she gets a bee in her bonnet about something she is most persistent.  No one saw me nailing anyone to anything, I just don’t want to be doing any stabbing okay.”

Flavius shook his head.  “I really do think that you ought to worry less about what your sister thinks and worry more about keeping that lot at bay” he said,  motioning to a small crowd that had gathered not too far off.  “They look like they might try something.  We had a lot try and rescue a chap a while back – one of the lads lost a couple of fingers.”

Octavio really didn’t think they looked like any bother at all and looked up at the man on the cross.  Blood ran down his face where the crown of thorns he was wearing had dug into his flesh.  “Listen mate” Octavio said shuffling nervously, his sister had seemed pretty convinced about this fellow.  “I really am sorry about this you know – just following orders and all that.”

The man grimaced and he turned his head to look at the legionnaire.  He attempted to speak, but could manage only a whisper.  “May I ask of you a favour” he said, his eyes dark and his lips dry and cracked.

Octavio looked around an noticed that Flavius was watching the people gathered some way off.

“If I can, I suppose” he muttered quietly not wanting to be heard.

“Will you give a message to my dad for me?”

Octavio nodded.  He did not intend to but it was the least he could do after nailing him to a cross.  The man on the cross really did not look in a very good way at all.  He grimaced in agony as the thick iron nails tore into his flesh.

“Tell him I’m still not tidying my bedroom…”

 


Something else?

Sparrow and Snake #writephoto

Musings

Fly me to the moon – Sunday photo fiction

 


 

 

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

 

 

 

 

 

Sombre limericks 6

These seem to be, quite accidentally, on the matter of the oddities of marriage and such…

I know I know, they’re inappropriate and I probably do too many but theres a lot going on in the world so it gives me food for thought.

 

 

A lonely chap I know named Dom

bought an internet bride, it went wrong

because when she appeared

big hands, penis and beard

he’d clicked ladyboybrides.com

 

Not that I’m judging you know, I went to Bangkok many years ago and had a fabulous time and honestly, how was Dom to know.

 

 

A woman’s rich husband was boring

Old, obese, dull with bad snoring

said “just do what you will

and Ill pick up the bill”

so she shopped drank and spent her days whoring.

 

I must have read something on arranged marriages because there’s a theme developing here.  I did go for dinner the other night with a chap who’s family arranged a bride for him.  Maybe it was that.  It dd not last if you’re wondering.

 

Carl does not like condoms he says

and convinces the ladies he sways

“Im catholic you see

withdrawal method for me!”

6 kids, 4 mums, one on the way

 

Carl is foolish.  Do not be like Carl.  I’ll give you one more shall I.  4 is plenty, I want you to come back next time you see.

 

 

Young lovers eloped and got hitched

after time his desires they switched

Now it’s gone really bad

and he fancies her dad

‘cos his big hands they have him bewitched

 


 

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/enamored/

Badger and Fox

Badger appeared slowly from his set.  Sniffing the fresh morning air he had a rather pleasant and leisurely scratch and considered the day ahead.

In response to the daily prompt word:Amble


Badger appeared slowly from his set.  Sniffing the fresh morning air he had a rather pleasant and leisurely scratch and considered the day ahead.

“Worms might be a good start to the day” he mumbled to himself  “or maybe some bugs” he continued “i do rather like bugs.”

As badger decided on whether it would be juicy worms or crunchy bugs there came a familiar voice from the nearby bushes.  “Are you taking to yourself again my old friend?”

Badger knew that voice only too well.   It was fox, and if fox was about this early it could only mean trouble.

“What do you want fox?” Badger asked impatiently, his black and white stripes bristling.  “I was just going to go and have some breakfast.”

“Oh my good badger, no need for such grumpiness” said fox grinning, “it is such a lovely day and that is no way to greet an old friend.”

Badger gave a low growl.  “You are no friend of mine Fox” he said rearign up to his full height “either speak your mind or hold your tongue for I am hungry and wish to have my breakfast.”

Badger had long claws and a short temper when he was hungry, and fox knew too well what happened when you crossed a hungry badger.

“i have a proposition for you” Fox said smiling, “and it is one that you surely will enjoy”

“And what exactly might that be” Badger asked.

“Well you see” Fox continued “I know a place where you will find the juiciest worms.”

“Hmm” said badger.  “i do rather like worms.”

Smiling, Fox continued “all I ask is that you do a little digging for me, and in return you will have the most plump and juicy worms.”

Badger thought for a while.  He did enjoy digging, and he especially enjoyed plump and juicy worms.  “is it far?” he asked.

“Oh no no” Fox replied.  “Not far at all. In fact it is just over the brow of the hill and beyond the large oak tree.”

“That is not far at all” Badger replied.  “And I am yet to have my breakfast.”

“Perfect, just perfect” exclaimed Fox his bushy red tail swishing.  “How about we set off now then?”

With tummy grumbling badger followed Fox up the hill through the long green grass and over the brow and further on past he old oak tree.

After a short while the pair reached a small mound between two great sycamore trees which was covered in meadow flowers.  “Now Badger” Fox said, his eyed wide, If you would just be so kind as to dig through this mound here you will not only be doing me a huge favour but I believe that you will find some of the most plump and juicy worms in the wood.”

“I will?” Badger asked warily “And how do I know you aren’t lying Fox?”

“Oh my good fellow” Fox replied “I have it on very good authority I assure you.”

Badger’s tummy rumbled. “And why exactly am I digging?” he asked.

“It’s a new den for my family” Fox replied “but I have an ache in my paw and find it very hard to dig you see.”

It sounded reasonable badger thought, and with his tummy rumbling he began to dig.

Now badgers are very good at digging, much better than foxes – especially foxes with achy paws and it was not long until Badger had managed to uncover rather a lot of juicy worms, just as fox had promised.  As he chewed a particularly fat and juicy worm he asked fox “is this deep enough?”

“Just a little more” Fox replied.

Badger ate a little more and then dug a little more.  “How about now?”

“Just a little more still ” Fox replied.

“This is rather deep for a fox den” badger remarked slurping up an especially long and wriggly worm.

“it will keep us warm in the winter” Fox replied, his tail swishing back and forth in the morning sun. “okay, stop!” he shouted excitedly “That is just perfect.”

Nibbling on more worms in the freshly dug soil Badger backed slowly out of the hole.

“Splendid job, quite splendid” Fox exclaimed.  “i could surely never have dug so deep.”

“Is that it then?” Badger asked.  “All finished?”

“Oh indeed yes” Fox replied smiling.  “I can do the last bit of digging myself”

Badger turned and began to wander off.  “Thanks for the worms Fox” he shouted back.

Fox didn’t reply, he had already headed down his freshly dug hole and Badger could hear him digging furiously.

Badger ambled slowly back in the direction of the old oak tree, the warm sun spilling through the canopy of the wood in warm pools.

“Good morning Rabbit” said Badger as rabbit raound the old gnarled tree.”

“Goood day Badger” she said hurriedly “Cant stop, can’t stop for I have left my babies alone in the between the two great sycamores!”

 


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/amble/

 

Photo courtesy of tpsdave@pixabay

 

Weekend Away – Daily Two-Word Prompt #102 / Daily Prompt

Flo and Darren plan a dirty weekend away…

A couple I know, call them Darren and Flo

Decided some “them” time was needed

So they packed off the boys, with their books clothes and toys

to grand parents to whom they had pleaded

 

“Please just for tonight, they said they won’t fight

and we’ll set off back early to home

they’re really not bad, and we’d be oh so glad!”

half a weekend away – all alone!

 

To a hotel they drove, up the coast near the cove

lovely beach, seafood joint and big bed 😉

“This is just what we need!” Flo declared, he agreed

“Dirty weekend away!” Darren said.

 

Hand on thigh as they drive,  not too late they arrive

short trek, they retire to the bed

“in the mood?” he enquires,  but alas it transpires

Flo then asks for some pills for her head.

 

“Just unpack – in a while, I’ll be fine” Flo does smile

“Then I’m yours you can do as you will!

you can tie me and ravage, go to town get quite savage

but for now will you get me my pill?”

 

“Yes of course” he agrees… he would tremble her knees

just like when they first met way back when

and they’d make love all night – what a glorious sight

they’d skip breakfast and start it again.

 

But to his great despair, fast asleep in the chair

he awakes with a knock at the door

Knock, Knock, Knock  “it’s House keeping… you awake or you sleeping?””

The evening had promised much more!

.

Still a breakfast enjoyed as they talk of the boys

and how odd it is here all alone

“Do you think they’re okay?” Daz to Flo then does say

“Let me call them quick, pass me my phone”

 

It turns out they were fine, “slept from 8 through ’till 9

been no bother at all!” Gran does say

“Did you have a good night, was the hotel alright,

shall I tell them you’re now on you’re way?”

 

“So perhaps not quite bliss” Darren says with a kiss

and Flo smiles as he kisses her head

“at least we slept well, and were rested and hell

we woke up with no kids in the bed!”

 


Fancy something else?

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

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


https://teresacreationsblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/12/daily-two-word-prompt-102/


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

Picture courtesy of espressoili @ pixabay

Hedgehog and Mole – 99 Word Prompt – Music and Berries

You need to be careful when you go into the woods…

The challenge was to write something in only  99 words and to include the words berries and music.  It is 99 words on the button. 

The challenge can be seen here:

August 10: Flash Fiction Challenge


 

“Do you like berries Mole?” Hedgehog asked, emerging from the thicket to the sound of Sparrow’s morning music.

“Oh yes, especially plump and juicy ones!” Mole replied licking his lips.

“Then follow me” said Hedgehog, “I know a place where the juiciest berries grow!”

Hedgehog led Mole to a clearing where the bramble bushes strained under the weight of the dark fruits.

“I can smell them!” said mole excitedly,  “Oh Thank you hedgehog!”.

As Mole devoured berries hedgehog crept slowly away, passing Fox at edge of the clearing.

“He’s all yours” Hedgehog snarled “I expect payment in full tomorrow.”


 

 

More?  Try this or this

Photo courtesy of pixabay


I also decided to tag this in a daily prompt because I think it’s a great fit…

 

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

Partner – Daily prompt

No lies, it’s about precisely nothing

Upon seeing the daily prompt, ‘Partner’, I would imagine that I was not alone in thinking that this would be an ideal opportunity to write a piece on my relationship with my wife.  It would be insightful and honest and lay bare the ups and downs of a modern relationship.

I imagined that I would share wisdom and experience in a light hearted yet uplifting way and it would prove enlightening and encouraging for others as they would see their own relationship in ours.  I would talk about love and compromise and friendship and laughter and…

Okay…I’ll stop there.  I can’t type that with a straight face.

I was mostly going to write about the impact of going to the toilet in front of one’s partner.  I had also considered something humorous on how to be certain that the kids are asleep and not just pretending and instead hatching a plan to burst into the bedroom with a “Surprise!!!” at the most inopportune moment.

Both of those will not now see the light of day though as I mentioned the general ‘Partner’ subject to my wife and her reaction was “as long as you don’t write about me I don’t care what you write.”  There was no malice in it though she did, quite coincidentally, have a rather large knife in her hand at the time so I took her advice seriously.

Therefore, this is mostly a piece about what you will not be reading, so I posted it with a picture of a cat just because.


Want to read more of my stuff?

This is kinda funny

and this kind of sad

This was just fun


 

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

Photo courtesy of cocopasasienne @ Pixabay

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/

 

 

 

 

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/

 

 

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

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/

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.

Afterwards

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

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/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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/
 

More tea vicar ? 

I should warn that should you read further you could find my post somewhat inappropriate, though that could also be down to you.  I am not one to judge.


I have written on the matter of tea twice already this week, and as a proud Englishman and Yorkshireman I believe that it is a subject worth revisiting.

Not that I am particularly fond of the stuff, I am not.  But seeing the daily prompt I was reminded of something of a running battle that has raged in our house for a number of years now.

I should warn that should you read further you could find my post a little inappropriate, though that could also be down to you.  I am not one to judge.

My wife insists on insisting, much to my frustration, that on a hot day a nice cup of tea will cool one down.  Now before you rush off to Google to see whether it has a voice on the matter I will confess that any answers it may provide could possibly be construed as confirming that fact.  There are posts on the science of heating one’s core to trigger the bodies natural cooling mechanisms.

I do not care one jot what Google says on the matter, if you are drinking a scalding cup of anything on a boiling hot day it will inevitably make you feel somewhat sweatier than a nice pinacolada will.

Despite pointing that out to her, the merest mention of sunshine and she is ready to trot out her well worn offering of a nice cup of tea knowing that I will both refuse her not at all kind offer but also rant and rage much to her pleasure.

I do however get to occasionally exercise my revenge, which is always best served cold, unlike tea.   It’s important to note at this point that my wife likes to leave the tea bag in the cup as she drinks her tea.

If we have visitors then I like to ask her, loudly and in front of as many of them as is possible (and if children are about even better), “Do you want ‘teabagin’ hun?”

The pleasure is amplified if I can get my 9 yeah old to shout it.  “Mum, dad wants to know if you want teabagin.”

At worse I will be the recipient of a withering look, and if I am lucky I will be on the sharp end of rolling eyes and a “god, what are you 13 years old!”

I may not win them all but when I do, the sweetness of battle is oh so delicious…

 


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

 


More? You could see if you like any of this

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/24/screw-you-haiku/

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

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

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

The intergalactic language of tea – Daily Prompt

Now as it turns out, across the collective 11256 recognised civilisations registered at the Central Galactic Office for Sentience more than two thirds have something culturally equivalent to a nice cup of tea. 

Zarb turned on her clan mate, his blue fur ruffling as she roared her disapproval at again being lost in some awful backwater.

“I swear by the many moons of Tarlex” she bellowed, “If we run out of fuel and end up marooned here waiting for a repair service I will rip out your throat and leave your carcass in this god forsaken place!”

“Now now dear” said Malen, attempting to calm her.  She was half his size again and had such a frightful temper, “I know exactly where we are” he paused for a moment before adding “…more or less.”

She scowled at him, her claws twitching and her tail swishing impatiently.  “My mother told me that you were an inferior mate” she snarled, “but no, I let you woo me with your throbbing brabnar and your eloquent songs of dal-bur”.  She pushed him aside, reaching for the Navigation console.

“Zarb, my sweetness” Malen pleaded, “trust me, we are only a mere 4 quintels astray and we will soon be back on …”

Malan never got to finish explaining how they would soon be back on course following a diversion to avoid a rather nasty solar flare, because he was quite rudely interrupted by a loud alarm and a series of flashing lights emanating from the bridge.

“Malan you useless spawn of a fargon!” She cried, clubbing him across the side of the face and squeezing her ample rump into the not quite large enough chair in front of the console.  Furiously she stabbed away at the illuminated buttons with her long fingers. 

He looked over her furry blue shoulder as she plotted a new set of navigation coordinates. 

“You’ve taken us too far out of range of that sun!” she growled, we’re going to need to spend a couple of cycles on the nearest planet to recharge the cells!” 

Malan knew it was best to say as little as possible at this point.  “How about I make us a nice cup of tea?” he offered apologetically as she continued to mumble insults about his mother’s cooking and the unimpressive girth of his father’s jarbul.

Now as it turns out, across the collective 11256 recognised civilisations registered at the Central Galactic Office for Sentience more than two thirds have something culturally equivalent to a nice cup of tea.  The people of Karpisal V have a beverage almost identical to a refreshing Earl Grey taken each morning as a cleansing tonic whilst the amassed hordes of Qualik have something more akin to a soup of battery acid and pig trotters which is apparently quite invigorating on a summer’s day. 

The idea seemed to calm her somewhat and she grunted approvingly. 

“I’ll tell you what else we can do when we get there “ Malan said with a hint of excitement in his voice.

“What’s that?” She asked, her interest piqued.

“Probing!” he exclaimed.

“Ooh ooh yes please” Zarb cried “It’s been far too long.


To find out a little more about our furry blue friends take a look here

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

 


Or you could see if you like any of this

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/24/screw-you-haiku/

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

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

 

 

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

Traditional – Daily prompt

“Bloody hell Charlie! his father shouted, dragging himself upright.  “Could you not just give me 5 more minutes like I asked?”  His head pounded and Charlie could smell the cigarettes on his breath.  “Why cant you just be patient?”

“Dad, dad are you waking up?” Charlie asked, tugging at his dad’s sleeve as he slept.  There were bottles strewn across the table and his father was still in yesterday’s clothes.  “I’m hungry dad and there’s nothing in the fridge.”

His father stirred briefly.  “Just 5 more minute Charlie”  he mumbled,  pulling away and turning his back sinking further into the sofa.

“But dad” he insisted, pulling on his father’s shoulder “you said you’d buy food yesterday and you never.”

“Please Charlie, just give me a few minutes and I’ll get up I promise.”

“But dad I’m so hungry” he pleaded.

“Bloody hell Charlie! his father shouted, dragging himself upright.  “Could you not just give me 5 more minutes like I asked?”  His head pounded and Charlie could smell the cigarettes on his breath.  “Why cant you just be patient?”

Charlie started to cry.  It had been this way for a while now, ever since the accident.  Things weren’t like they used to be when mum was still around.

“Please Charlie, come here” said his father, reaching out and pulling him close to console him and suddenly sobbing uncontrollably as he held him.

“Will it always be like this dad?” Charlie asked.  Memories of her were already fading and some days he didn’t think about here at all.  “Will I get a new mum or will we never be a family again?”

 

 


Want to read more of my stuff?  There’s a few links below you might like. There are aliens and zombies and poems and letters and loads more.

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/Tradition/


Stinky teenagers – Daily prompt 

I did some research, worried that smelling like Satan’s anus might be a permanent fixture…

My eldest son is nearly 13 and quite often smells like onions.  I do not intend to be beastly but heavens his room really is eye wateringly odorous.  It is not the quite-delicious-slowly-sweated-in-butter type of onion but rather the nose-wrinkling, eye stinging and nose punishing variety. 

This is not because he is prone to poor personal hygiene, he is not and showers morning and night and is often found in a rather pleasant if somewhat overpowering cloud of fragrance, but it is apparently a natural occurrence for boys of his age.

I did some research, worried that smelling like Satan’s anus might be a permanent fixture, only to discover that the stench that often surrounds him was a matter of a combination of  hormones and his age.  These hormones, new sweaty places and a general increase in sweating are instead to blame.

There seem to be a myriad of solutions that we can employ to help with the challenge of the upstairs bedrooms smelling like Beelzebub’s bottom, including more showers, anti-bacterial soaps and  frequent changes of clothing which is a real relief.

Until then he will continue to sleep with the windows open because good heavens it’s pretty nasty up there.

___________________________________________

Want to read more of my stuff that’s not about smelly teens?

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/fragrance/

I took a 30 year break – Dormant – Daily Prompt

That Christmas I asked for a typewriter, thinking that I had found my calling, and I bashed out a few teen angst inspired poems about solitude and rainy days …

I have always wanted to write.  Or I thought I did.  When I was 17 I scribbled a story in a large black book my dad stole from work one summer.  I don’t remember what it was about, but I do know that Victor Visser borrowed it to read and never gave it back!

That Christmas I asked for a typewriter, thinking that I had found my calling, and I bashed out a few teen angst inspired poems about solitude and rainy days before succumbing to rage and frustration and a realisation that the I could not type and would be spending all of my time correcting what I had bashed out.

I did very little after that with the exception of a Tolkien inspired epic poem which I worked on when I was in the Army just after I left school.  I have no idea what happened to it but I still remember the opening even after 28 years:

“The swirling veils of morning mist

were swept aside as morning kissed 

the sleeping lands that lay below

and waking winds began to blow.”

I think the rest was about a quest and an evil force and a ring and some wizards and…well you get the idea.  Mostly thievery.

And that, as far as I recall was it.  For a short while I thought Journalism was for me but I never did anything about it, I mostly just had an itch which I left unscratched.

Fast forward three decades, a wife, 2 kids, mortgage, career and a load of stuff in between I found myself inspired by a friend to look at WordPress just over a fortnight ago.  Well, I will be honest, it has been rather fun and wholly addictive and after nearly 30 years I have managed to write some of the things I always wanted to but didn’t know I did.

I have no idea how one should write, I do not know whether full stops go before speech marks and the structure of a good story is beyond me.  I do know though that I am loving doing it, even if it is a shambles.

Perhaps it was how easy it was to set up, maybe the joy of writing, perhaps it was the thrill of someone actually liking something I wrote or maybe just the joy of finishing something I meant to do so long ago but never got round to.

Whatever it is, my wife hopes I put that shelf up in the kitchen sooner than it took me to do this because I also assured her, in a very similar way, that ensuring she has somewhere to put the pans is something I want to do very much, if only I could find my spirit level.

 


Want to read more of my stuff that’s not about me but about Aliens and zombies and people and rude poems and life and stuff?

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/Dormant/

 

 

Scamper – Daily Prompt

“BRAINS!” demanded Chuck, teeth gnashing and arms flailing as he thrashed to extricate him from the tangle of barbed wire around his legs and waist.

“Hey Chuck, do you remember when we young?” Brian asked, his mind a fog and a hunger in his belly that made him want to scream.

“BRAINS!” demanded Chuck, teeth gnashing and arms flailing as he thrashed to extricate him from the tangle of barbed wire around his legs and waist.

“You used to be really active you know” Brian continued, “You were always…what’s that word..?”  He trailed off into silence, thinking was getting more difficult and the hunger was unbearable.

“BRAINS!” Chuck demanded again, more forcefully this time.

Chuck had no recollection of much other than the fact that he really wanted some brains right now.  If he tried really hard to not think about eating brains there was occasionally a flicker of a different world, but it all seemed like a …like a…something,   He didn’t really have the words anymore really, he was just so hungry.

“I’m trying to have a normal conversation with you mate!” Brian snapped.  “I know this is all very upsetting but …” the words failed him again.

He looked down and noticed a rather large hole in his military fatigues, and an equally large one in his chest, crawling with flies. “You used to …oh what was that word now…” he said, looking across at his old friend.  “You used to love to…”

Chuck had managed to get one of his legs free and celebrated with a rather hearty “BRAINS!”

For the briefest moment of moment Brian felt a clarity of thought and a million thoughts flashed through his mind.  He remembered everything.  The outbreak, the war, family , friends and so much more.

“Chuck” he said slowly, “I think we’re undead mate!”  He felt his thoughts escaping him, like sand slipping through clutching fingers.  The hunger was overpowering, he had to fight for every word.  “I’ve remembered Chuck” he said excitedly, “I’ve remembered what you used to love to do!”

He looked over and noticed that Chuck had dragged himself free of the barbed wire, leaving much of his right lower leg behind.  “BRAINS!” Chuck exclaimed joyfully.

“You used to…it was…you…we…” His voice trailed away, eyes glazing over and his head falling to one side.

“BRAINS!” was all he could muster.



 

Fancy something a little different?  Try one of these maybe…

https://afterwards.blog/

https://afterwards.blog/2017/07/18/soil-an-armitage-tangent-daily-prompt/

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

 

 

,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

On being really fat

They say one should write about what one knows, so I I think I shall perhaps write about being fat.

They say one should write about what one knows, so I I think I shall perhaps write about being fat.

Now, I don’t yet know if it will be a cake and pork fuelled celebration of my wobbly belly and chafing thighs or whether I shall use this as a shameful catalyst to stir me in my eternal attempt to lose weight.  I haven’t quite worked myself up to a commitment one way or another yet having only just penned the thought, plus I have a rather nice hot beef and mustard sandwich that needs to be eaten before I do any sort of serious decision making.

Now if I was to attempt to lose weight, which I indeed might but let’s not be too hasty as we are still working through the premise for this piece, then It obviously goes without saying that typing will not help me shed a single chin.  I am also pretty sure that a few of the particularly energetic amongst you may well be thinking that I should simply stop typing right now, wipe the quite delicious beef juice from my chubby little fingers and get myself on a treadmill or go for a nice walk.  I won’t argue against that point, and the matter of the treadmill is one I will address another time most likely, but for now I think I shall  either, but I shall persist with writing something first at that was my aim when I sat down.  That and to eat my rather delicious sandwich which I have done whilst typing this.

So where to next I ask myself.  I am not certain yet but how about I float a couple of ideas to see whether any of them stir me as to my preferred course of action:

·       When bending over to pick things up became an embarrassment to my children.

·       Why my jeans need pulling up whenever I stand.

·       Failing at not being fat.

·       Stamina, what stamina.

·       I woke up with a lollipop stuck to my jumper

·       What do you mean I have piles!

·       Late night eating by refrigerator light.

·       Please put a shirt on the neighbours might see you.

As much as that feels like Weird Al album track listing,  I think I might have enough ideas to take this somewhere you know. 

Perhaps I will see you next time when I tackle the difficult subject of ‘Why my bathroom scale hates me and lies just to make me feel bad about myself’.

 

 

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

Passenger – An Armitage Tangent

Alex stood frozen.  Looking across the empty lanes of the motorway he could see his brother’s red Mustang,  crumpled and twisted, steam billowing from the radiator.  His first thought was  “Mum and dad are going to kill him!”, and it never occurred to him that everything wouldn’t be ok, because when you’re 15 everything usually is.

“Weird” he thought, scratching his head through a mop of dark curly hair, something was nagging at him, his thoughts very much a fog.   “This is a dream right?”  He asked himself.

“You know, that’s usually what you lot ask at this point” came a response out of nowhere  “and then I tell you it isn’t” it continued, “and then you freak out”.

Alex turned to the source of the voice, seeing before him a small bald man with a warm smile and piercing blue eyes.  He wore a sharp well fitted dark suit, crisp white shirt and a black tie tied with a Windsor knot and despite his stature had all the air of someone who could quite easily do you harm if you forgot to pay him for whatever you might own a man like him for. 

“Calm yourself curly locks” he said, a thin smile breaking out on his face “I know this is all a shock and you want to run over and see what’s going on and blah blah blah but we really need to get moving”.

Alex indeed wanted to run over to the scene where a fire truck, lights flashing and horns blaring had just pulled up, but he couldn’t.  His head told his body to ignore the small bald man and do exactly that but he simply remained where he stood.  His thinking was so slow, words escaped him, concepts too.

“I need to go over! My brother’s still in there” he mumbled.  That he knew, foggy headed or not. 

The Bald headed man remained unmoved. “Hate to break it to you kiddo but you’re dead”  he said dispassionately.  “You aren’t going anywhere other than recycling.”  It was simply a fact to him.  He had done this so many times that he found it far easier to just get right to the heart of the matter rather than to try flowering things up. 

Early on in his career he had developed a real flair for the dramatic, and relished these moments.  He’d dabbled in poetry and religious imagery and had even used props for a while but it soon wore thin.  

These days he was a fan of a nice suit over the effort of a hooded cloak.  They were rather more uncomfortable than one might think and forever dragging on the floor and needing to be washed.   and as menacing as a scythe is it’s a real nuisance to cart around all day

Alex stood, saying nothing because some part of him knew he was dead.   There was a feint recollection of a party – perhaps someone’s birthday – and rain, lots of rain.  After that there was a horn, loud noise and then …well then he was stood where he found himself right now. 

After a while he spoke “Is he ok?” he asked.

“Id not worry about him for now kiddo” bald man replied, “come on, follow me.  You’ll like this.”

Alex turned slowly to follow, his head swimming.  “Where are we going?  What will happen to him?“

“Always with the questions” the bald man mumbled under his breath.  “Just follow me, I’ll explain everything in a bit”.

The bald man led him up a small path and just over the brow of the embankment that ran adjacent to the motorway.  “Keep up” the bald man called, disappearing inside an open door, “Ive got places to be.”

Now as far as doors go this one was for the most part a rather regular and unassuming door, the type you would find on any street. It was 8 panelled with a  brass handle, letter box and knocker and painted jet black with a number two positioned slightly off centre to the right about three quarters of the way up.  What made it wholly unusual though was the way it simply stood unsupported just alongside a busy motorway where he had apparently just died.

Bald man popped his head around the door. “Are you coming or not?” he shouted, and disappeared back inside.

As Alex approached he could see inside into what looked very much like an office.  There was a large empty hall, white floors and walls and the bald man seemed to be stood at what looked like reception desk.  Bald man looked over beckoning for him to hurry across as Alex stepped through the door.  He felt it close behind him and a lock clicked.

“Alex” he said, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him over, “this is The Receptionist, she’s been looking forward to meeting you.”

She looked a bit like the woman his mum didn’t like his dad talking to at work he thought, the one mum described as “that hot home wrecking blonde” and dad always described as “harmless” and “just really friendly”.

Alex heard a voice in his head, it seemed to cut through the fog.  “It’s very nice to meet you Alex” she said, “If you want to take a seat on one of the chairs behind you I will be with you in a short while.  I just need to have a word with Mr Goodwin”.

He had a million questions going through his head but he felt compelled to do as she had asked, and nodding he turned on his heels and walked across to the chairs and took a seat.

He watched Goodwin and the receptionist for a while, him speaking and her simply looking directly at him.  He nodded once or twice, made a few notes in a small notebook which he then tucked inside his breast pocket and with that he was gone, pausing only briefly to look back across at him before exiting through the door they had passed through earlier.

She beckoned him over with a long elegant finger.  Stood before her he heard her in his head “Well Alex, I guess you are wondering what exactly is going on.” He nodded.  “Mr Goodwin should have explained but alas he has a tendency to neglect his duties sometimes.  I really must have a word.”

Her voice was cold, he felt it not only in his head but in his bones.

“You must have a lot of questions” she continued.  He nodded again.  “All in good time Alex.  For now you need to know this.  So listen carefully.”

He nodded.  It was all he seemed capable of.

“You’re dead I’m afraid Alex, and Mr Goodwin has just left to fetch your brother who did not make it despite the best efforts of the emergency services.  You and your brother are very special, and possess certain qualities that I value most highly and because of that I asked him to being you back for recycling.”

She could see from his face that he was confused.  Understandably so she thought, these people with their antiquated belief systems really had no idea of just what lay out there in the universe.  The universes.

“Is this heaven?” he asked.

“No Alex, this is not heaven” she replied, “You’re in the council offices.  We are here to recycle you and get you back out there because there is something you need to do for me”.

That was not what he had expected to hear.  He had always gone to Sunday school and was pretty sure that if he were dead he really ought to be heading off to heaven and ot stood at the council office reception.

“No such thing as heaven or hell I am afraid.  Regardless of which of your many god’s you root for” she explained “Though from what I read neither sound particularly interesting. You really need to just forget everything you may have been told and trust me that this is the best place for you.  You got lucky really today Alex, we could have simply let you dissolve into nothing but you’re here so let’s get on with the job at hand shall we.?

Her tone was suddenly less friendly and that was not a question.   Alex nodded again as Mr Goodwin burst through the door, his brother in tow. 

“Justin!” he exclaimed, waving him over.  Justin had the same foggy look Alex had had just ten minutes prior. Mr Goodwin lead Justin over to stand with him.

“Thank you Mr Goodwin” the receptionist said, her gaze fixed on Justin.  “Very nice to meet you, I’m terribly sorry about being dead and all but it really is nothing to get too upset about.”

She looked at Alex now, he was pretty sure that they were all hearing her in their heads.

“If you would be so kind to explain to your brother what is going on I shall go and prepare you a couple of nice new bodies and we will have you back out on there in no time at all.  We have a lot to get done today.”

***I started this piece about the death of a passenger in a car then thought I’d explore an idea for the Armitage stuff I am writing so kind of just went with it.  It probably slots into the Armitage story somewhere, just not really sure at the moment. – Michael***

 

 

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