SATURDAY 15th AUGUST 2020
https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/author/sammicoxwriter/
THE APOSTLE OF JOSTLE
by John Yeo
The leader of the pickpocket gang was Throstle,
the Apostle of Jostle.
He would act docile,
Bump into some random old fossil,
While the other members of the gang would complete the hustle.
Until one fearless old fossil
struck Throstle back, hard.
(42 WORDS)
FRIDAY 14th AUGUST 2020
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..
August writing prompts
THE RED DRAGON INN
by John Yeo
Grandma Dragon owned the Red Dragon Inn, a busy dockside bar in Tiger Bay. It was said that she had inherited the bar through a family inheritance. Grandma was a tough cookie who didn’t stand any nonsense from any of the drunken sea salts who frequented her bar. In fact behind her back she was known to one and all by the shortened title of the Dragon. The lady in question had four sons who were mostly at sea, following dubious seafaring professions. There were six grandchildren constantly visiting Granny Dragon and keeping her busy.
Widowed three times it was rumoured that her last husband had married her on the spur of the moment after a few drunken nights, then he’d absconded to sea and he’d never been seen again. The upshot of this short union was young Mary, who at sixteen years of age, was every bit as tough as her Mother.
Trouble broke out in the bar one evening when there was a vicious fight between two quiz teams who disputed the result of the bar quiz that featured every Wednesday evening.
Apparently the Captain of a visiting team had sneaked a look at the answers.
Mayhem erupted, chairs were broken, heads were broken, the police were called and everyone except for the severely wounded disappeared.
Young Mary was the heroine of the evening as she bandaged up the wounded with towels until the ambulance arrived. It was rumoured that most of the broken heads were the result of Grandma Dragon’s furious attempt to break up the fight using an old fashioned rolling pin from the kitchen.
© Written by John Yeo
THURSDAY 13th AUGUST 2020
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..
August writing prompts
RAINDROPS NEVER LIE
by John Yeo
To a blind person, senses speak louder than words.
The heat from the sun could be the heat from a fire,
The touch of quivering jelly could be bubbling mud.
The shadows of light could be moonlight or torchlight
But the touch of a rainshower falling from the sky
To a blind person seeking truth, raindrops never lie.
Blindness needs feelings to experience the truth,
The sound of thunder could mean gunfire and warfare.
The birds in the trees compete with insects and bees
With a cacophony of nature that is unique and pure
The waves of water battering the rocky seashore,
The feel of a million raindrops cascading from the sky
Gently caressing the eye means raindrops never lie.
© Written by John Yeo
WEDNESDAY 12th AUGUST 2020
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..
August writing prompts
by John Yeo
Chao Lin was the daughter of a rich Chinese businessman. Just approaching marital age, she was betrothed and her wedding was arranged to take place within the next few days. Lee Wen-lin, was the lucky man to be betrothed to Chao Lin, he was fascinated with her tiny feet. It had been a centuries old Chinese custom to bind a woman’s feet to enhance their beauty. This painful process often resulted in deformity and difficulty in walking. Yet Chao Lin showed no signs of difficulty in gracefully getting around on her tiny feet.
The day before the wedding, the young couple stole away for a few moments together and Lee Wen-lin, who was besotted with his wife-to-be said, ‘Chao Lin, I love to look at your beautiful feet, was it not painful to go through the binding to encourage them to grow so beautiful.’
Chao Lin, who was equally very much in love with him, replied,
‘No my tiny feet are naturally small and petite my love. Let me show you.’
She removed her tiny slippers to reveal two beautifully formed, perfectly pedicured tiny feet.
© Written by John Yeo
TUESDAY 11th AUGUST 2020
This post is written by response to a prompt by ‘M’ on WordPress which can be accessed by following the link below.
August writing prompts
A SIZABLE SANCTUARY
by John Yeo
The motor cruiser was steeped in luxury
Every need of the occupant was catered for
The sea would always be a sizable sanctuary.
~
The Captain headed off on this voyage in a hurry
The passenger laid back watching the receding shore
The motor cruiser was steeped in luxury.
~
The wind on the waves blew calm and blustery
As the boat left for distant parts to explore
The sea would always be a sizable sanctuary.
~
The rich man had left the pandemic instantly
News broke of the deaths and spread, so sure
The motor cruiser was steeped in luxury.
~
The awful truth of the dangers and the discovery
The symptoms were much too plain to ignore
The sea would always be a sizable sanctuary.
~
His medical team monitored his health constantly
As the wealthy man gazed from his position offshore,
The motor cruiser was steeped in luxury.
The sea would always be a sizable sanctuary.
~
© Written by John Yeo
MONDAY 10th AUGUST 2020
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
….https://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2020/08/01/august-writing-prompts-3/
JUMBLED LIKE JENGA
by John Yeo
06:30, the sun was shining already and I decided to get up early and make my way over to the allotment. Margaret had turned over in our bed and sleepily said, ‘I’ll walk over to the allotment and join you there later.’ The rooks were cawing loudly in the nearby rookery, I remember thinking, when I arrived, ‘I would hate to live in one of the houses nearby.’ As soon as I reached our plot, I sensed something was amiss, it wasn’t until I saw the broken glass on the floor outside our shed, I realised we had been victims of an attempted burglary. The large padlock was still securely fastened to the door frame and had obviously resisted all attempts to remove it. The window had been smashed and the villains had tried to squeeze their arms in to steal whatever came to hand. Consequently a nest of shelves had been pulled down and everything was scattered everywhere. At that point Margaret arrived and remarked that all our seed packets and plant labels were all over the place. ‘Oh no!’ She exclaimed, ‘Everything is scattered and jumbled like Jenga’
‘We’d better call the police.’ I said, ‘There’s traces of blood on the glass, who’s Jenga?’
‘It’s a game, don’t worry about it, just call the police!’
© Written by John Yeo
Sunday 9th August 2020
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..
by John Yeo
Dr Galaxy was in charge of Covid isolation ward E,
Anonymous with her face visor covered by a mask
She was suited and booted covered with PPE.
~
She wore her name on a badge all could plainly see
She was a healing presence with an unenviable task
Dr Galaxy was in charge of Covid isolation ward E.
~
When the horrors accumulated to a terrible degree
Surrounded by suffering the infection rate vast
She was suited and booted covered with PPE.
~
High tension in the ward, science couldn’t foresee
Some recovered, yet many patients breathed their last,
Dr Galaxy was in charge of Covid isolation ward E.
~
It seemed the virus, out of control, running free,
Indiscriminately passing from person to person so fast
Staff were suited and booted covered with PPE
~
The professionals clapped whenever a patient was free,
They were too busy fighting to stop in their glory to bask,
Dr Galaxy was in charge of Covid isolation ward E.
She was suited and booted covered with PPE.
© Written by John Yeo
MISANTHROPE
The island was just cliffs containing an enormous lighthouse. The lighthouse contained a keeper, but recently nobody had seen him. Provisions were delivered by a helicopter drop on a monthly basis. The pilot Tom landed, contacted base and reported a mechanical fault with the helicopter. Help was on the way.
Tom knocked, there was no response, he tried the handle, the door was locked. He peered into the window and saw an unkempt, bearded, hunchbacked figure, sitting watching him, with an ugly scowl on his face pointing a gun. ‘Can you hear me?’
A loud bang was the reply.
© Written by John Yeo
SATURDAY 8th AUGUST 2020
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..
by John Yeo
There was a feeling of mutiny in the air at Clive college. One of the teachers had caned a popular boy for his insolence. Apparently he had had the effrontery to refuse to clean the corridor with a bucket and polish, not only that, he had stuck his tongue out at the matron, when she asked him to do it. It was Shrove Tuesday and after the normal assembly, where prayers were recited, the whole school had been treated to a lecture on obeying instructions instantly. Tom Magillen, a senior boy and his sidekick, Clive Charter, called together their ‘circle of seven’, a group of friends who always stuck together.
‘We can’t allow this treacherous assault on one of our number to go by unanswered.’ Said Tom.
Clive agreed emphatically and replied, ‘Last term we had a similar incident and staged a bun fight at supper time. We could always try something like that again and make our point.’
‘You’re right there!’ Exclaimed Tommy Dorset, if we all act together they will have difficulty punishing the whole school and at least we’ll have made a point.’
Tom Magillen then spoke up again, ‘We all need to pass the word around at breakfast time this morning and when I give the nod we should start the riot.’
Pancakes were on the menu at lunchtime and this was where the school cook came into his own and served 200 pancakes, mostly liberally drenched in thick gooey syrup When the plates heaped with sticky pancakes where passed around and reached the final table, Tom Magillen nodded towards the top table where the senior staff sat. Instantly the air was full of flying sticky pancakes flooding toward the senior staff table. It was pancake pandemonium as the senior staff were instantly covered in sticky, gooey, treacle and pieces of flying pancake. Within seconds the dining hall had emptied of pupils. The culprits behind this riot were never brought to book as the telling of this story would certainly cause some ripples of embarrassment for the good name of the school, if the local press got wind of it.
© Written by John Yeo
THURSDAY 6th AUGUST 2020
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..
EERIE SIRI
by John Yeo
‘I never use Siri or Alexa, simply because I find the idea far too eerie. I find it quite disturbing to think that a machine can actually personalise answers to lifestyle questions. I get the feeling that this requires a deep study of my personal likes and dislikes. I am aware that every site I visit on the internet is recorded. Everywhere I go is monitored through my mobile phone, thereby building a complete picture of my habits and lifestyle. Everyone I call or electronically contact is registered, this gives an even clearer picture of my lifestyle and the social status I’ve achieved in life. I’m loath to add to this massive store of electronic information regarding my habitual lifestyle and I never use Siri or Alexa. I consider this accumulation of data connected to me and my lifestyle to be a gross invasion of my personal privacy. I look with horror on the future of mobile communication aids that will possibly include a built in camera that can automatically switch on and off and film my entire waking and sleeping life in incredible detail. Who would be able to view the astonishingly boring episodes but an unfeeling, unthinking machine. My only request for both Siri or Alexa, would be. ‘Hey Switch off!’
© Written by John Yeo
Bereavement single parent dad
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