flash fiction – Page 5

The In-between – Part 6 of 31

Well I’m still making it up as I go along…

Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘Crystal clear consolations.’

The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it.

Crystal clear consolations

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Stepping through the doorway I found myself in an office. Seeing the confusion on my face Plumduff beckoned me to take a seat in a stout red leather wing-backed chair.

“Now now boy” she began. “Less of the gormless expressions if you will, we have things to do and sitting there with your mouth open looking for explanations really will get us nowhere. There will be time for that later.”

We were in a dimly lit office, tall dark bookcases covered the walls and row upon row of books lined the shelves. In front of me Plumduff sat behind a broad mahogany desk, a small pile of papers and a pen and ink on one side of it and on the other another pile of books. Behind her was a wide fireplace where glowing embers crackled and fizzed and above the mantle was a most impressive oil painting of an equally impressive fellow standing legs akimbo and hands on hips against the backdrop of a raging volcano and knee deep in daffodils.

Plumduff noticed me staring at it.

“That’s Charles Crompton” she said, smiling and turning around to look at it herself. “He established this fine institution four hundred and eighty years ago. Wonderful fellow, frightfully handsome and all being well you will get to meet him at some point some when.”

Plumduff span back around, pulled out a draw and began to rummage in the desk. “Now, where is it?” She said. “It’s here somewhere.”

Her wispy white hair eventually popped up from behind the desk and she placed a small package in front of me. “There you go” she said pushing it across the desk towards me. It was wrapped in brown paper and tied somewhat haphazardly with string.

“I Just…” I tried to speak but Plunduff was having none of it.

“Please, just open it” she said smiling. “Things will make far more sense once you do.”

As small and frail as she might appear, Margaret Plumduff had the air of a woman with whom you did not trifle. She folded her hands in her lap and watched as obediently I unwrapped the package in my lap. Peeling back the string and brown paper it revealed what looked like a small black wallet, an engraved silver ring and a watch.

“Open the wallet” she pressed excitedly.

The leather was soft between my fingers, worn and supple and opening it up revealed a gold coloured badge about the size of a credit card.

“Read it out” she insisted.

I pulled the card from the wallet. It was surprisingly heavy.

“Badge 1979. Office of Entropy Agent authorised to carry out all and any duties pertaining to the orderly maintainence of Area 367.”

I slid the card back inside the wallet and looked up, Plumduff clapped her hands excitedly.

“You’re my new partner Armitage, welcome to the Fracture.”

The In-between – Part 5 of 31

Part 5 in my ongoing efforts to try string together random prompts into a story

Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘morphing into magma.’

The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it.

“He wont get to it” the voice continued. “just let him go”

I spun around and was faced with a kind faced old woman wearing a flower print dress, yellow cardigan and a broad welcoming smile.

“Margaret Plumduff” she said confidently thrusting out a hand. Her grip was far firmer than I had anticipated.

“Armitage” I replied rather timidly.

“Indeed you are my boy, Indeed you are” she said still shaking my hand rigorously. “I’ve been waiting for you, they said I’d find you out by the tree.”

“They did?” I replied.

“Oh yes, yes” she continued, eventually releasing my hand at last and flashing me a broad toothy smile. She was no more than 5 feet tall with a face full of character and short soft white hair. She wore tan nylon stockings and black patent leather shoes and a black handbag hung over her left arm rounding off her outfit.

“Are you sure about him?” I asked pointing back towards where Henry continued to wander towards the tree in the distance.

“Oh yes, don’t you mind yourself with him” Margaret insisted. “The tree takes care of his type.“

My face obviously gave away that I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

“Some are sent to serve the greater needs of the in-between.” She said still smiling. “She will feed on him and put him out of his miserable existence. Once she has absorbed him he will be far more comfortable.”

Again I could tell that my face gave away my shock at the idea.

“He was an accountant, beastly type who fiddled the books and had a quite awful habbit of interrupting people. No real redeeming qualities and he won’t feel a thing I assure you.”

By now I obviously looked appalled or terrified, I am unsure which, but she obviously felt the need to put me at ease.

“I wouldn’t worry dear, you’re perfectly safe” she insisted. “Now we really must get going we have places to be.”

“We do?”

“Oh yes, yes” she replied enthusiastically. “There are so many things to see and you must start your training straight away.”

I suspect at this point she was growing weary of the array of confused looks I was continuing to sport.

“Please, just follow me” she said, and out of nothing a door appeared. It was in no way a special door, unless of course you would count it appearing out of nowhere as special, but that aside it was simply a brown wooden door with a matching gold letterbox, handle and brass lion head knocker. “Come come, let’s be going.” She said and with that she turned the handle, pushed the door open and stepped through.

Part 6 can be found here

The In-between – Part 4 of 31

“Hello” was the first thing Henry said to me which, as greetings go, was perfectly acceptable.

Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘Binging time.’

The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it.

Read part 1 here

Read part 2 here

Read Part 3 Here

“Hello” was the first thing Henry said to me which, as greetings go, was perfectly acceptable.

Perhaps it was his lack of enthusiasm that threw me but the best I could muster in response was a rather flacid “Hi”.

Henry blinked and did not reply, simply shuffling uncomfortably from one foot to another and fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt. I hadn’t considered clothing previously, and it prompted me to wonder whether I had any on and, looking down, discovered that I was in fact wearing a most unpleasant pair of brown corduroys and a plain white shirt. A pair of light brown moccasins and white socks rounded off the ensemble which made me look very much like my year 9 science teacher, Mr Wood.

Moments passed and so we stood staring at one another saying nothing. It could have been a few seconds though it may also have been a number of weeks. Time is a tricky thing here.

Feeling compelled to make an impression, he was after all the only other person I had met since arriving, I attempted to muster something witty or interesting to say but everything escaped me and I eventually mumbled a rather awkward “so are you new here?”

Henry nodded.

“You’re the first person I’ve seen since I arrived” I added.

Henry stared straight through me as if fixed upon something in the distance. I tried to resist turning around to look and see what he was looking at but could not. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing to be seen other than the feint silhouette of the tree far in the distance.

“The tree?” I asked.

Henry nodded.

“Just appeared” I replied.

Henry leaned to the side, peering over my shoulder, and then scratching his head walked past me without so much as a please and thank you in the direction of the tree.

I turned to watch him go and was about to follow him when another voice spoke.

“Let him go, he’s going the wrong way anyway.”

The In-between – Part 3 of 31

“. As I wander there are colours and flashes of things that I know I recognise and that seem so familiar but yet I struggle to name. “

Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘Liquid Love.’

The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it.

Read part 1 here

Read part 2 here

Of late, and I say that with a degree of caution because time does not seem to hold any significance here, I am finding that the longing consumes me less and less and a clarity seems to be returning to my thinking.

Now that is not to say I know what is going on, because I do not, but I have been able to explore this curious existence and am finding that it is not as grey and empty as I once thought. A world of misty nothing seems to be revealing itself to me piece by piece, and just today I saw a tree. I don’t know what type of tree it was, perhaps a beech or a birch – I tend to get them mixed up – but there it was doing precisely nothing just as you would expect from a tree.

It’s gnarled trunk rose above me where sprawling branches were capped with a thick covering of leaves, dappled sunlight flooding through in golden rays from a sunless sky. Below my feet her roots stretched deep dow into nothing. There was a also a narrow river, a glittering ribbon of blue and silver meandering slowly through the nothing and into which the tree had dipped a number of her roots. As she drank I could see the waters glowing as it pulsed and coursed through her limbs.

Beyond the things I know and recognise there are also glimpses and echoes of a world just beyond my grasp, perhaps the one I left or somewhere else, but they are there and at times so very close. Feint voices call out and have me spinning as if recognising the comforting hello of an old friend. As I wander there are colours and flashes of things that I know I recognise and that seem so familiar but yet I struggle to name.

And then, as I stood beneath the cool canopy dipping my toes in the trickling water I knew that I was no longer alone.

Read part 4 here

The In-between – Part 2 of 31

“…The worst thing about dying is not the pain, that passes pretty quickly,”

Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. Today it is ‘Senseless Sacrifices.’

The instructions are to simply write for ten minutes or so each day and that’s about it.

Read part 1 here

The worst thing about dying is not the pain, that passes pretty quickly, it’s actually the immense sense of loss you feel afterwards that really gets to you. Once you realise that there is nowhere left to go, which is bad enough in itself because a lack of destination is something I find wholly unsettling, there is the overwhelming realisation that pretty much everything else is gone.

Beyond the obvious and rather painful longing for the people you have left behind you also find yourself bombarded by a sadness at the loss of things of a far more mundane nature. Since shuffling off of the mortal coil I have spent entire afternoons pining for my old bicycle, the red one that I should have ridden more but didn’t because it gave me the most terrible chafing. Whole mornings have been spent dwelling upon missed opportunities to listen to the radio late at night when the signal of far-away stations seemed stronger and I was able to scroll through the bands picking up such strange foreign voices.

So many things taken for granted now seem so precious and a lifetime of missed opportunities weighs heavy on those of us trapped in this nothing of an existence and not a moment passes when I ask myself was what I did worth it…

Part 3 is here

The In-between – Part 1 of 31

Okay so I’m doing M’s prompts and going to try and do a full month as one long story with no planning. The first was titled ‘The Inbetween’ so thats the name of the story. Each prompt is only meant to take a few minutes. Let’s see how it goes.

I’m not sure what I am anymore. I know I’m dead, I remember that all too well, but it was hardly the significant finale I was expecting.

There were no pearly gates or lights to head towards, and neither was there fire nor brimstone nor the anguished gnashing of teeth – something Mrs Henderson next door would most certainly be disappointed about given her insistence that one day my wicked ways would most certainly be repaid in true Old Testament fashion.

The way she always looked at me when she said it I’m pretty sure she meant buggery, she just had that look of a woman who feared buggery above all things. Her husband was a big man, so that may have explained it.

So alas Mrs Henderson I am afraid there is a distinct lack of buggery wherever it is that I am, though there are rather a lot of us here in-between who are somewhat in need of an answer as to just what is going on.

Part 2 is here

Inside – Part 1 of 6 – Room 101

Cal spread his hands, the holo screen materialising and blinking into life.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. They are, this month at least, just 101 words only. They dont always finish, I just like to try and evoke a certain feeling or scene. I also decided to combine this with M’s prompts. Today it was ‘Nano Nano’. I am going to try tell a short tale in 6 one hundred and one word pieces and publish them all today.

Cal spread his hands, the holo screen materialising and blinking into life. Retinal scans signed him into the programme core whilst the nanites coursing through his veins allowed him to interact directly with the screen interface.

Smiling, he cracked his knuckles and then pulled up a list of all suitable candidates within a two block radius of the target. He paged through the list, the screen a blur of faces and vitals until he found what he was looking for.

“Henderson Gill. Zoom” he said and focused in on a map showing Gill’s location. “You look like you need a drink.”

Footprints – #writephoto

A revisiting of sorts

In response to Sue’s photo prompt.

“Hey Boss, have you seen what Mary’s been writing?”

“That footprints in the sand woman?”

“Yeah her”. Jonah scratched his head and laughed. “Did you have anything to do with it? I know what you’re like, whispering in their ears like you care”

“Look, I never asked to get stuck on this planet ok, I never asked to be immortal and I certainly never asked to be anyone’s lord and saviour. He continued, quite vexed, “2500 years I’ve been here. I get bored. Not once have those upstairs even bothered to so much as pop in and say ‘Good Job’ or read one of my reports, I’m sorry”

“What did you do?”

“Ok so I popped into her dream and I gave it all that ‘I was carrying you ‘ business. I also gave her cancer.”

“Boss, you’re such a dick.”

The light

Turner opened his eyes, sat slowly upright and looked around. He was in a long corridor, a bright light shining from a door at one end.

In response to Sue Vincent’s Writephoto Challenge. I misread or got confused or perhaps did not pay attention and thought it was 99 words only. Oh well, I’ll stick with it anyway.

Turner opened his eyes, sat slowly upright and looked around. He was in a long corridor, a bright light shining from a door at one end.

“Where am I?” he wondered getting to his feet feeling inexplicably compelled to walk towards the light. He could hear singing.

Slowly he walked, reaching the door, and without knocking pushed it open revealing a tall bearded man in a long white robe.

“What the hell get out of my flat” The man shouted wildly pushing him out. “Dorris you forgot to close the bloody door again” Turner heard him shout, shuffling away.

Squirrel and Sparrow

High in the branches of the horse chestnut tree sparrow sat and watched with great interest as squirrel darted about on the ground below.

“You seem rather busy today Squirrel” sparrow said.

“Oh indeed I am” squirrel said glancing up for only the briefest of moments and then returning to the rather important business of collecting nuts for the winter. “Winter is coming Sparrow, and I must prepare.”

Sparrow watched her dart into a large crack in the side of the tree carrying a large acorn, her bushy tail still protruding.

“Do you not have enough already?” Sparrow shouted. “You have been gathering for weeks and weeks.”

Squirrel turned about and popped her head out. “A squirrel can never have enough” she replied scuttling down the trunk of the tree and continuing to search in the golden carpet of leaves that covered the floor of the wood.

“And when do you know you have enough” Sparrow asked as Squirrel disappeared under a particularly large pile of red and yellow leaves.

Squirrel did not respond and moments passed as Sparrow waited for squirrel to emerge.

Suddenly, with a groan and an exclamation of joy she burst from the pile carrying what was most definitely the largest beechnut that sparrow had ever seen.

“My word” sparrow exclaimed, “surely now you have enough to tide you over during the dark winter months.”

Squirrel heaved it slowly towards the horse chestnut. “Oh no” she said “the winter is long and I will most certainly need more.”

“Really?” said Sparrow, “and…”

Sparrow did not get to finish her sentence as quite suddenly, out of the high trees, Owl swooped down and in an instant her long talons wrapped around squirrel’s beech nut and hoisted it, and squirrel, up into the air.

“Let go” shouted sparrow watching owl swoop between the trees and glide up and up.

“But it’s my beech nut” squirrel shouted as ascended above the tree tops. Squirrel hung on with all she had. The nut was hers and she was not letting go.

Higher and higher flew owl, yet Squirrel would not let go. Sparrow launched herself into the sky and set off after them. “Let go squirrel, LET GO” she shouted as she neared them.

Squirrel looked down, her fingers beginning to slip as owl soared higher into the clear winter sky.

“No” she insisted, the wind blowing through her bushy tail.

Owl looked down seeing squirrel still holding on with the tiny tips of her fingers, smiled, and let go.

“It’s all mine” shouted squirrel defiantly as she hurtled towards the ground, Owl circling back to where she would soon land with a splat.

Kangaroo – OWPC Challenge

I wonder if I could take one in a fight? Doubt it.

The challenge – write something using the work prompt: Kangaroo. The prompt comes from Jennifer Nichole Wells fabulous site.

Try as I might I have been completely incapable of coming up with an idea of interest on the matter of the Kangaroo. For three months I have churned out all manner of things on a ludicrous breadth of subjects but the Kangaroo has me flummoxed.

I think perhaps I find them rather underwhelming, despite their large feet and ability to box grown men in the circus which should be more impressive than it actually is. I look at them and I feel nothing inspiring despite the wonder I am sure some would say they are.

I know that probably makes me beastly, but I think it might just be the vacant look on their faces that I find so very dull, and I am sorry but it makes me want to punch them. Right in the face.

Now as cruel as that might seem, given their ability in the ring I am pretty sure I would be able to claim self defence if I was found wrestling one to the ground in the street.

If I was going to dispose of any large amount of them, and obviously this is just hypothetically speaking – I think that a tornado would be my weapon of choice. Let us assume that they went a little crazy and started stealing babies as animals in Australia are, I believe, quite prone to do. Dingo’s stole Azaria Chamberlain if her mother is to believed so I don’t think it is too far a stretch of the imagination.

It’s not like I’m proposing a koala stole a chubby toddler, that would be ludicrous. Koala’s are far too weak for that.

Anyway, back to my kangaroo filled tornado.

The thought of a couple of thousand of them whisked into the air and spinning uncontrollably looking all perplexed and bewildered has me chuckling far more than it should. Sorry.

Right, as I was saying – nothing to see here and fingers crossed next week’s prompt has me more inspired.

Sorry Jennifer.

I set myself a challenge this week…

Just how much could I do in one week?

If my wife sees this then she might remark, “Not a lot”, and that would probably be fair.

At the outset of the week I set myself a challenge of getting onto WordPress a lot of the ideas I had stored up and to just see what I was capable of spewing out over 7 days. In addition to writing I also set myself the challenge of reading as much as I could too. A kind of total immersive experience.

As a bit of context, I have a job and a family and other commitments so it was very much a case of seeing what I could fit in where. I do a typical 8-4 in a large bank running a team of programmers, the boys have rugby Wednesday and Thursday evenings, it was my nephew’s birthday on Wednesday and I didn’t get out of work until well after 6 on Friday. Oh, most of Saturday and Sundays are spent doing something rugby related somewhere in Yorkshire too – so time is at a premium.

So how did it go?

Well by the time this is published I think I will have managed in the region of 27 posts during the week and have read somewhere in the ball park of 300 other peoples articles.

When it comes to reading it was simply a case of getting up one hour early each day (at least) and spending from 5.30 am to 6.30 am reading, liking, commenting or sometimes skipping over other peoples work. A week or two ago I actually read every single post in The Daily Prompt. Over 200. I think it was on flavour.

There was some great stuff that I have taken inspiration from, new people I am now following and I seem to have picked up new followers on the way. If I had something constructive or really enjoyed a piece I said so, I didn’t just constantly like, I tried very much to engage in what I was doing and with the author.

As for writing, it was very much a case of being disciplined and creative with my time.

I planned the week, did a spreadsheet of what I wanted to do each day and tracked it day by day. Many of my pieces were related to weekly challenges from other bloggers so knowing what came out when was key.

So after a week I seem to have produced :

7 Daily limericks plus one Sunday Limerick piece
10 Pieces of flash fiction or micro fiction stories
5 Haiku posts, some in response to other peoples challenges
half a dozen commentary type pieces, often based on what’s been going on in the world.

Each night I would try grab an hour or more after the kids were in bed, and if I was helping them with their homework I would perhaps write when I was doing that – either in my note book or on my tablet. I’ve watched less TV too. Something had to give.

At work I was more disciplined about taking a lunch break and would use 30 to 40 minutes writing. I will also admit to writing a fair few limericks on some of the more tedious calls I have to attend from time to time.

One morning I took the youngest to tutoring which is 45 minutes, and in that time as I waited I managed to write the outline for 3 more short stories, so waste not want not.

I then proceeded to post 3 or 4 a day. Was it necessary? Could I have stored them up? I simply wanted to write, I wasn’t really bothered by those sort of thoughts. I may post nothing this next week, and if that’s the case then so be it.

As for the numbers, not something I spend a lot of time worrying about, but it was by far my best week ever. I do know I had more likes, comments, views and visitors than any other week, and I don’t think my quality was greatly diminished – I still tried to do my best with the things I tackled.

I did think I might have been short of inspiration for so many pieces but I was surprised by just how much I still had left by the end of the week – I think I now have more ideas that I started with. It feels to me like the creative process, once stimulated, really can run away with itself.

That’s just my experience though, I have only been doing this for a few months so don’t claim to know much about this lark – I only know I enjoy doing it.

Michael

A Donald inspired tale of madness

My response to the Friday Fictioneers 100 word challenge inspired by the photo above. 99 words.

My response to the Friday Fictioneers 100 word challenge inspired by the photo above. 99 words.

Andromeda’s orbital engines hummed as Cole and Yin walked towards the marker on their heads up display, helmet lights slicing through the darkness.

Yin stooped and placed a soil sample in his analyser, noticing a pair of ash and cobweb encrusted shoes placed side by side. The map showed a school had once stood here. He poked the cobwebs with a gloved finger, and a small spider scuttled along the silky strands.

“Guess this place is all yours now mate” he said sadly, his helmet display blinking orange.

“Cole, radiation spike” Yin shouted, “get back to the shuttle, now!”

Want more stuff?

Armitage – Part 1

Harold

Armitage – Part 2 Armitage – Part 2

PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter

Edgar – A FFfAW word challenge

Edgar stood looking up at the dark building stretching up into the night and thought how very much like stars the tiny windows looked, and he thought of his Grandfather.

The challenge was to write something using the photo using between 75 and 175 words. I came in at 173. You can see the challenge details here.

Edgar stood looking up at the dark building stretching up into the night and thought how very much like stars the tiny windows looked, and remembering his Grandfather he smiled. Even though it was so long ago he could still recall how he would sit on his lap and listen to the stories about the times before the stars went out.

In fact, before he was recycled he spoke of very little else, his mind frail and his memories just fragments of what they had once been.

In those last days he would sit on the small balcony overlooking the sprawling choking metropolis, his long empty flowerpots a reminder of a time when the sun still shone, and he would curse those that had thought only of themselves and had let this happen.

Still smiling he slowly climbed the cold stone steps for his own recycling appointment, his heart full of the memories of that wonderful old man, and wondered whether he might soon see him again where the stars still shone brightly.

More stuff?

Family #writephoto

Get well soon limericks

Deep and insightfully insightfulnessness

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/

Photo courtest of Pamela Canepa

Illusionary Dreams: Writing prompt 13/9/2017

He searched his memories but there was never anything there other than a whisper calling out, and within minutes the thoughts disappeared like morning fog and he fell back asleep.

A word prompt courtesy of michelle at ‘Putting my feet in the dirt’.

I have the prompt words, then I found a picture, now I need even more words. I might limit myself to 125 words for this one. Stops me waffling. Nice and concise.

Every night for the last week at 3am it was the same thing. Enoch awoke from his sleep, the same dream filling his senses and causing him to stir into life. Hands that were his but not reached for a face that reminded him of someone he used to be, or perhaps it was someone who he once knew but was now long forgotten.

He searched his memories but there was never anything there other than a whisper calling out, and within minutes the thoughts disappeared like morning fog and he fell back asleep.

Karen waited for him to nod off then picked up her phone and called the maintenance team.

“Yes, its my sexbot” she said, quite annoyed, “It keeps dropping out of the spoon cycle”

127 words

More? Maybe try one of these

Sunday Photo Fiction

Badger and Fox

More tea vicar ?

Photo courtesy of pixabay

https://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2017/09/01/september-writing-prompts/

One Word Photo Challenge: Hummingbird – Part 1

“Sorry sir” Henderson replied “but we drop out of FTL and go radio silent and now we’re locked in orbit at four times the usual distance instead of heading home. That’s not protocol.”

This was written in response to the one word photo challenge which I rather enjoy, and details can be found at the link below. This week I had to use the word “hummingbird” as inspiration. It had me thinking of thinking of things of a geostationary nature…

One Word Photo Challenge

In the cold of space, 80000 Miles above the Kazakh steppes the Hummingbird emerged from Faster-Than-Light and Captain Jenkins ordered it be placed into geostationary orbit. Shortly after a call went out across the ship-com for the vessels four most senior officers to come to the captain’s quarters.

“Gentlemen” Jenkins began, “take a seat please”.

The three men pulled up chairs around the table. Henderson, the Chief Engineer, waited for Jenkins to be seated before speaking.

“What’s happened sir?” he asked.

“What makes you think something happened Henderson” the Captain asked sharply.

“Sorry sir” Henderson replied “but we drop out of FTL and go radio silent and now we’re locked in orbit at four times the usual distance instead of heading home. That’s not protocol.”

Jenkins took a deep breath. “About 30 minutes ago, on approach to FTL drop out point, I received an encoded fragment of a sub-light notification warning us to stay away from Earth. Sub-light then went offline.” H paused before continuing. “When we came out of FTL I initiated a comms freeze override and engaged full shielding.”

Coles took off his hat and placed it on the table. “And we know nothing more Sir?” He was the eldest of his senior officers and a damned good Chief Navigator and the best Comms officer in the fleet.

Jenkins stood and began to pace, he didn’t think as well when he was sat down. “Not a thing Charles. I wanted to brief you all before we start full scans.”

“Sir, if I may” Coles interjected.

“Go ahead.”

“We’re ready to go Sir, we can initiate fulls scans as soon as you give the word.” he stood as if to leave.

“I need to know if we are visible” Jenkins asked calmly, still pacing. “I need to ensure that should we take down the shields to run scans we maintain minimal risk of exposure.”

Coles put his hat back on and straightened it. “Sir, From this distance we are pretty much undetectable with shields up. We will need to reduce shield strength to half to initiate full diagnostics but even with reduced shields we should be hidden from anything but a targeted scan”

Jenkins stopped pacing.

“Okay, let’s do it. Initiate full planetary scan.” he continued, turning to Henderson and Carter, who had sat silently throughout . “Gentlemen, all hands on deck please. We have no idea what is going on down there.”

Both men replied in unison standing. “Yes Sir.”

As the three men headed for the door Jenkins called over to Carter. “Let’s bring the rail guns online Master Chief” he instructed. “I don’t want to get caught cold”

“Yes Sir” Carter replied and exited after the others.

Jenkins followed his officers and headed to the bridge. He wasn’t prone to panic or overreaction, but something felt wrong. “Officers never run” he told himself as he settled into his chair, three large screens in front of him.

“Coles” he shouted out across the deck, “drop shields to 50% and initiate full Earth side scans please. And pinpoint the fleet for me will you.”

“Sir, yes sir” came a prompt reply.

Jenkins waited a few moments before the first results started to be returned. His screens lit up and a cascade of information began to filter through.

“Jesus Christ” he exclaimed as the information began to pour through. “Coles, are you getting this?” he shouted.

“I am sir” came Coles’ response. There was a note in his voice that made Jenkins uneasy. “I’ve validated outputs and there are no errors.”

“Shields back to 100%” Jenkins ordered sharply. “Henderson, take us out to 160 thousand miles full speed.”

“Yes Sir!” came a response “One hundred and sixty thousand. Initiating sub light engines.”

Coles walked across to the captain, his face ashen and spoke quietly “Sir, there are no mistakes – those transponder results are unmistakable – that is the entire fleet in pieces down there with zero signs of life.”

Fancy something similar? Try this, or this…

Photo courtesy of Stevebidmead @ Pixabay

Not a piece about Dr Who – Honest – Sunday Photo Fiction.

Actually, had Diane Abbott been cast as the Doctor I may actually have taken side with the crazies…

It’s hard to resist anything other than something Dr Who based on this.

I could write about how Tom Baker, Doctor of my childhood, remains my favourite though I will not because those memories seem far off these days.

I could also write about the ludicrous furore over the recently announced Doctor having a vagina. The fact that he has two hearts and travels through time seems far more palatable to many than the idea of someone with a uterus holding the keys to the T.A.R.D.I.S.

God forbid it had been a black woman, can you imagine the outcry. Trump and Brexit we can handle but surely not that.

Actually, had Diane Abbott been cast as the Doctor I may actually have taken side with the crazies. Her vagina is not something on which I wish to dwell. Jeremy Corbyn may however wish to differ.

I could also write about the shambles that was Christopher Ecclestone but the less said about that the better. Tosser.

Instead of writing I will just enjoy the memories I have of one of the greatest creative works to come out of this country and wait for next week’s challenge.

195 Words

FFfAW Challenge – A steaming mug of dark and silky goodness

“No, I am not drinking that!” Gordon insisted, forcefully pushing Colin’s arm away and turning his head in disgust.

The challenge was to write about the picture above in anywhere from 75 to 175 words.

“No, I am not drinking that!” Gordon insisted, forcefully pushing Colin’s arm away and turning his head in disgust.

Howling with laughter he offered the cup again. “Come on mate” he slurred, taking a drink from the beer in his other hand, “It’s chocolate honest!”

Gordon gagged as it was again shoved in his face. “Oh god get that away from me!” he demanded “I don’t care how drunk I am I’m not touching it!”

Colin drank more beer.

“And how the hell did a man of your size even get that in the cup?” Gordon continued most vexed but not really wanting to know. “you better not have made a mess in there we’ve just had it decorated and the wife will bloody kill me!”

Barely able to contain himself Colin lifted the mug to his lips. “Okay if you won’t then I will…“

“Nooooo!” Gordon screamed.

“Ooh lovely” Colin said, licking his lips and offering it again grinning. “What did you think it was?”

“You’re such a dick” Gordon replied opening another beer.

175 words

Fancy something else?

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

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

Stream of Conscious Saturday – Guess

The challenge was to write, unedited, on the subject of “Guess”

Apparently this is the challenge…

“1. Your post must be stream of consciousness writing, meaning no editing, (typos can be fixed) and minimal planning on what you’re going to write.”

There are other rules and stuff which you can find here:

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS Aug. 12/17

I intend to give myself a minute to come up with an idea and then just type and see what comes out. Starting…NOW!

Karl really did not like parties, he was awkward at the best of times and parties tended to make it worse, but Rachel had invited him, and Rachel made his heart beat faster and forget the most basic of words.

Kyle, who as wholly more suited to parties than he was due to his fabulous hair and skinny jeans had always advised him to play it cool with women and to try and make her laugh, though right now he wanted nothing more than to scurry off home and watch TV.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around. It was Rachel.

“Hey you !” she smiled giving him a hug “I am so glad you came!”

She smelled like vanilla milkshake, and he loved vanilla milkshake. Not as much as banana but it was right up there.

“Hey yourself” was the best he could muster, holding onto her for a little longer than he probably should have.

She brushed her hair from her eyes and handed him a red cup of what he assumed was beer.

“Oh Guess what” she said excitedly putting her hand on his arm.

This was his chance Karl thought, Kyle’s words ringing in his ears. He needed to be funny. Make her laugh, girls loved to laugh right.

“Guess you say” he replied smiling awkwardly “Okay, lets see. You have me at a disadvantage but I’ll give it a go.”

Karl rubbed his chin feigning contemplation. Rachel looked a little confused.

“You’re really an alien and you’re here to take over the planet!” he exclaimed grinning. Oh god please laugh.

Rachel did’t laugh, mostly she looked even more confused”

“No I was going to say…” Karl interrupted before she got to finish.

“Oh no wait, I’m not ready to give up yet” Karl continued. “I love a challenge.”

Rachel took a drink from her cup and looked past him towards the door. Karl knew he needed to make her laugh now or he might blow his chance.

“You were going to say that you wanted to get out of here and go somewhere quiet” he said trying his best to be cool and funny and seductive at the same time.

“Er no” Rachel replied taking another drink. She paused for a moment, and Karl could sense someone stood behind him.

“Hey babe” said a voice which he instantly recognised as Kyles.

Rachel smiled uncomfortably “I was going to say I’d started seeing your mate and he was also coming tonight.”

Hmmm

Not easy that lark, you don’t really know where you’re going…or I didn’t. I knew I wanted him to crash and burn and it to be awkward and to actually guess when she said “Guess what ” but that was it. That took about 20 minutes and a few more to correct the typos which I fixed afterwards. I found myself typing a bit slower that normal though to give myself chance to think…

End of days #writephoto challenge

Of life and death

Maleban the Elder stands alone, the last of his kind, remnant of all that was but that is no more. His people are all gone now, returned to dust, and the final fiery moments of this world are his alone to witness.

A slow ascent into a hungry sun is his fate, and as proud custodian of the memories of a once glorious people he stands and calls upon his ancestors, the long forgotten ways of his people and the gods of old.

Eyes closed and arms wide he embraces the end of all days as lifetimes past, present and future disappear and are lost to the universe forever.

Photo courtesy of Sue Vincent

Want something different? THIS is different and THIS is way different. This is …well you probably shound’t read THIS…

What has gone before

The slow passage of time

My crack at a 75 word piece on the picture of that rock up there for Friday Fictioneers

Before you I watched and I waited. Before trees and ice and flame I was alone and the world was silent and time passed without record.

I watched you crawl into existence with so much promise, and I witnessed fleetingly your true light and the beauty within.

But having everything was never enough for you, and you were consumed by your desires and the darkness that lurks in your hearts.

I do not miss you.

75 words! Boom!

Photo courtest of , c.e. ayr

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

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

For more on Thomas and Wednesday take a look here

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…

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