Tag Archives: Humour

Friday Fictioneers – Clearing The Way

ff250117Frank cursed quietly under his breath as he placed the handset back into its cradle. ‘A blown engine out on the Little Williams road.’

‘Oh, no, Frank, not again. Isn’t there anyone else who could go?’ Missy protested.

His wife knew fine well there wasn’t: his was the only pick-up truck for 100 miles.

‘Don’t wait up, love,’ he said. ‘It’s at least a two hour job, longer if they need towed into Greenburg.’

Missy had no intention of waiting up. Mr Brown from across the street had played his part. She now had to play hers and slip into something more comfortable before he arrived.

friday-fictioneers

These words form this my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.  

Friday Fictioneers – Starting Over

ff180117A blazing sun shone over the fertile savannah. From the flowering branches of an acacia tree, a bearded vulture swooped to pick clean the last morsels of rotting sinew on a week old carcass. Two young lion cubs stumbled yawning from the bush, quickly followed by their concerned mother.

Dr Zerlon Juniper smiled a satisfied smile as he surveyed the scene from his observation bunker. Even by his own notoriously cautious standards the colonisation project had been an unmitigated success. As Dr Juniper continued to monitor his work, a troop of elephants rumbled majestically over the shimmering Mars horizon.

friday-fictioneers

These words form this my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.  

Friday Fictioneers – Games of Chance

ff140916It was Mike’s last day with Portmans. After 22 years loyal service he and Judie were moving upstate to run a pottery near Montauk.

‘Well, all the best,’ I said, as we clinked glasses at the bar. ‘Won’t you miss the City, the convenience? Anything?’

Mike took a sip of his whisky and smiled. ‘What like the two hour commute? The pollution, the noise?’ he said. ‘You know what, the only thing I’ll really miss is the Thursday night card game at Benny’s.’

We laughed.

I wouldn’t miss Mike, but I sure would miss my Thursday nights with Judie.

friday-fictioneers

These words form my entry into Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge

Friday Fictioneers – Desert Island Notification

ff170413I wiped hot sand from my lips; sticky sweat dripped down my sunburnt back. It had been days since a violent storm had tossed the splintered wreckage of my yacht onto this island. From my shaded cover all I could see was endless ocean. Then something caught my eye – a fleeting sparkle on the water’s edge.

I stood up and stumbled warily out into the baking heat. A green bottle bobbed through the white foam, inside a piece of paper.

The handwritten note began, “Friday Fictioneers Prompt…”

‘Good old Rochelle’, I thought. She certainly does think of everything and everyone.

friday-fictioneers

These words form my entry into Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.

It’s an old prompt, but a new story. No re-treads on here.

Sunday Photo Fiction – The Grassy Knoll Files

spf050616Joel was a conspiracy theorist. He wasn’t the only one in his freshman year at St. McKenzies. In fact they had their own club. ‘Theories Unlimited‘ it was called, and they met once a week in each other’s rooms at the dorm house. So far this semester they had covered all the old favourites: JFK, Area 51, the Moon Landings. Tonight Joel was hosting the group. There would be plenty of room, there was only six of them.

‘That’s clearly not true,’ cried Emily. ‘Elvis isn’t dead, he has a ranch in North Dakota – I’ve seen the pictures.’

Joel nodded in agreement. As the discussion around the continued existence of ‘The King’ raged on, Joel got up and wandered across to the fridge. Having pulled together a pastrami sandwich he tipped the milk carton up to pour himself a glass, only to find the carton almost empty.

‘Hey, has anyone been at my milk?’ he asked the group.

The room fell silent, almost. At the far end of the settee Jimmy slurped from a plastic beaker. Looking up, the white foam ring around his lips was clear for all the theorists to see. Sheepishly he shrugged his shoulders and said ‘Err, the CIA drunk it? Aliens?’

spf

Other entries for SPF can be found here.

Friday Fictioneers – Last Will and Testament

ff060116‘…and now we reach the final item.’

The lawyer paused to take a sip of peppermint tea. The house, within which the assembled relatives sat, had already gone to a second cousin few had ever met. His 80% stockholding was now in the hands of five bowling buddies from the company mail-room.

‘My GX2012 Lear Jet with landing rights, storage and ten years of fueling and pilot fees paid in advance, I leave to my friend, Dylan.’

‘Dylan?’ enquired Aunt Agatha.

In a warm, quiet corner of the room, an old Labrador stirred briefly at the mention of his name.

friday-fictioneers

These words form my entry into Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.

Friday Fictioneers – The Endless Search

ff041115“Nothing, just more junk!” A disgruntled Sam wiped muddy sweat across his forehead. “We’ll never find it, Joe, never I tells ye.”

Joe inhaled deeply on his pipe. His greeny-blue eyes shifted slowly towards a small, grassy hillock at the far end of O’Malley’s field. “Ach, to be sure, it’s moved – we’ve been digging in the wrong place all along. Come on, young Sam, bring your spade.”

As the birds sang their morning songs, brothers Joe and Sam Lonnegan trudged through the long, dewy grass. That gold would be theirs, no matter how many rainbows they had to chase.

friday-fictioneers

These words form my entry into Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.

Friday Fictioneers – Living The High Life

ff240713Chong Woo had the best office in the world. From his stool he’d watch as 747s streaked across the clouds. His customers were always grateful, if somewhat surprised, to see him.

‘How did you get here?’ was a common greeting. His response was always the same: a smile.

Chong’s old bones were starting to creak; the thin air and raw sunlight were increasingly hard on his ageing body. However, it was setting up each morning which was really taking its toll. Getting a hot dog stand to the top of Mt. Everest sure was hard work for a 90 year old.

This is my entry into this weeks 100 word challenge over at Friday Fictioneers