SPF-Stoned

There is an ancient legend in the old country that there is a rare bird, named letcholin vondala, (letchy, for short) that seldom is ever seen. When it is seen and it poops on you, you will turn to stone. Honestly, I thought the legend was just that, a legend and nothing with substance. I mean, who ever heard of being turned to stone because of being pooped on by a bird? Hahahaha!

Then one day I was sitting at the beach watching the surf and enjoying the peaceful feeling and beautiful ocean when I saw a letchy. As soon as I saw the bird, the bird took aim at me and plop!

I am a sad and lonely stone statue with petrified bird poop on my stone arm.

My heart is heavy and I feel the weight of my regret for laughing at the letchy.

(145)

Thank you to Alistair Forbes for our photo prompt today and for hosting the challenge, Sunday Photo Fiction. Al gives us the photo prompt and approximately 100-200 words with which we are to write our stories. The challenge is fun and addicting and everyone is welcome to participate. If you would like more information about this challenge, click here.

To read the other participants’ wonderful stories, click here.

 

The Island House

Izzie lived in the island house for thirty years after her husband passed away.

*****

Albert was so excited about his 20th anniversary gift to Izzie; a passage on the majestic ship, the Titanic.

*****

When the infamous ship hit an iceberg, Albert quickly put Izzie on a life raft, assuring her he would catch a life raft later, knowing there wouldn’t be enough for him.

Watching the “unsinkable” ship sinking, Izzie felt her spirit descending right along with it. Shaking with fear and gasping for air through a huge knot of tears and sobs, she frantically searched for sight of her beloved husband.

The women began singing, “Amazing Grace,” and the men standing on the doomed ship began singing too,

“Amazing grace how sweet the sound…”

Still singing, the men stood stoically, sinking into the deep, dark, and desolate ocean.

…”And grace my fears relieved;”

Watching in tearful horror and shocked disbelief, the women and children witnessed their husbands and fathers slowly descend into their icy tomb.

…”And grace will lead me home.”


(175)

Thank you to TJ Paris for our photo prompt this week.

This is my 175 word story for the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers Challenge. We are given a photo prompt and approximately 100-175 words with which we write our stories. The challenge is fun and addicting. Everyone is welcome to join in. For more information, click here.

To read the other participants’ stories, click on the blue froggy button below.

SPF – The Potty Throne

King Henry VIII had several thrones but one of the most memorable thrones was his bathroom throne.

Kings don’t go outside to “outhouses.” No, they have potty chairs (also called thrones) and they have servants that dispose of the foul wastes.

These servants were from the lower rung of the ladder and King Henry VIII wouldn’t think twice of beheading them if they didn’t do their job promptly and properly. His “waste” was as important as he was and God forbid if they ever forgot that.

Liddy waited quietly as the King finished doing his “important business.” Then she waited to hear his call, “Finished.” She would promptly run into his quarters pick up the chair and take it outside and bury the waste that was in it. She would clean the chair properly and then take it back inside to the King’s quarters, all to the satisfaction (hopefully) of the “very important” King.

Liddy hoped that one day she would be removed from this position and learn to work in the kitchen. Even though this was harder work she wouldn’t have to work directly with the king who was infamous for beheading women.

(195)

Thank you to Al Forbes for our photo prompt this week and for hosting, Sunday Photo Fiction. He gives us a photo prompt and approximately 200 words with which we write our story with. It’s fun and addicting and everyone is invited to participate. For more information, click here.

To read the other participants’ stories, click here.

 

MFtS – The Petroglyphs

The petroglyphs told the story of an unusual event.”

Professor Baird challenged his class to try and translate the message of the petroglyphs. I was anxious to meet his challenge but found it to be a lot harder than it seemed.

I scratched my head as I tried to decode the drawings and nothing I came up with made sense. I desperately hoped this wouldn't count against our final grade. Then I came up with this interpretation:

“We rode our horses to capture our targets, our enemies. We had trouble communicating with them, but we find them to be very friendly. They raise goats. Taught us to raise goats. Then we have a feast and Native Tribal Dance to our Great Spirit that we be successful in the end.”

I was in trepidation waiting for my grade. This is what Professor Baird wrote on my paper,”I think you are very close to what they might be saying here.”


(150)

Thank you to Barbara Beacham for our photo prompt today and for hosting, Monday Finish the Story challenge. She gives us a photo prompt, the first sentence to our story, and approximately 150 words with which we are to write a story with. The challenge is fun and addicting and anyone is welcome to participate.

To learn more about this challenge, click here.

To read the other participants' stories, click on the blue froggy button.

 

FFfAW – Ice Swan

Google image


The swan pond, on the edge of my property, was inhabited by the marriage of two beautiful swans, a cob (male) and a pen (female).

My favorite thing to do was to sit on my back porch, relax in the porch swing, and watch these magnificent birds glide on the surface of the pond. They were so contented and peaceful. I was drawn into their lives.

I watched as they raised their swanlings, and I watched these swanlings grow up, leave the nest while a new bevy of swanlings came along. I witnessed the miracle of “swanmanship,” and it was truly remarkable.

No surprise that I chose a swan as my ice sculpture for my wedding anniversary party. After all, swans represent fidelity and loyalty.

Everything was wonderful until the ice sculpture began melting.

I couldn’t find my husband – or my best friend.

(145)

©pricelessjoy.co 2015

Thank you Sonya O. for our photo prompt this week

This is my submission for the challenge, Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. It is a fun flash fiction challenge. We are given a prompt photo and approximately 100-175 words with which we use to build our stories. It’s fun and addicting. All are welcome to participate. For more information, click on this link: FFfAW

To read the other participant’s stories, click on the blue froggy button:

 

MFtS: Flying

“Delphine always wanted to pilot her father's plane and when he forgot his keys on her tenth birthday, she knew that taking off would be easy.”

She spied the keys lying on the lamp table next to the staircase. She had watched her dad fly the plane thousands of times. She felt sure she could fly the plane too. In fact, she felt so sure of it that she decided to walk to the hanger and do just that. She was going to fly that plane. Her dad would never find out, she would make sure of that.

When she got to the hanger, she got into the plane and put in the keys in the ignition and turned it on. She slowly crept the plane out of the hanger and drove it down the runway, gaining momentum to lift off. She finally was able to lift the plane off the runway. She was so exhilarated! She was flying the plane! Then she looked below her and saw two men in uniforms running down the runway yelling something she couldn't hear. They looked very upset. What does she do now?

Taking off was easy, but now, how does she land it? Help!

(150 words)

Barbara Beacham kindly hosts Monday's Finish the Story Challenge. She gives us a photo prompt, the first sentence for our story and approximately 150 words with which we use to build our stories. The challenge is fun and addicting. For more information click on this link MFtS.

Thank you to Martin Furman for providing the first sentence to our story:

“Delphine always wanted to pilot her father's plane and when he forgot his keys on her tenth birthday, she knew that taking off would be easy.”

To read other stories: MFtS Grid

 

 

SPF-Breaking Up

I read the letter begging for crumbs that he still loved me and that he would be coming back. I searched frantically throughout the letter looking for a crumb. Just one lousy crumb. That’s all I needed.

There was none. It was a dear Jane letter. Sorry, but it’s over and what we had together we have no more. Cut and dried and hurt me real deep. I threw the letter onto the bed and grabbed my cape to cover me from the autumn chill. It was time now.

The tower bridge seemed the perfect place to execute my plan. Seemed the weather was apropos with how I felt. Dreary rainy weather. I did everything I could to make him love me. Where did I fail?

The bridge was uninhabited and I was there alone. I took off my cape and folded it and laid it on the bridge. I stepped up onto the edge and performed my best swan dive. Too bad no one was around to see it.

(170)

 

Alistair Forbes kindly hosts Sunday Photo Fiction and has provided us with our prompt photo and approximately 200 words from which I based my story on. Click on this link to find out more about the challenge and to find the link to either add your story or to read the others fabulous stories. SPF