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DIVINE INTERVENTIONS

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TUESDAY 8th SEPTEMBER 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..

Today’s prompt ~ DIVINE INTERVENTIONS 

September Writing Prompts

DIVINE INTERVENTIONS 

by John Yeo 

I begin to ask plainly without exemption 

How could love have happened to us?

Was it just another divine intervention?

~

I can’t help rephrasing the question 

Which I reiterate without any fuss

I begin to ask plainly without exemption.

~

Divine interventions are the exception, 

Without the answer sounding superfluous 

Was it just another divine intervention?

~

It’s hardly beyond simple comprehension 

Rather than question without a cuss

I begin to ask plainly without exemption.

~

Should I be accused of divine inattention?

Or simply ignored as not being serious?

Was it just another divine intervention?

~

Our whirlwind romance led to caring affection,

Love and marriage with happiness in truss

I begin to ask plainly without exemption.

Was it just another divine intervention?

~

© Written by John Yeo 

UNREAL REFLECTIONS

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MONDAY 7th SEPTEMBER 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..

Today’s prompt ~ UNREAL REFLECTIONS

September Writing Prompts

UNREAL REFLECTIONS

by John Yeo

  Peter was impressed when his sister Jane introduced him to her friend Julie. They got on like a house on fire, their conversation was lighthearted and they made each other laugh.

Peter noticed that Julie was always checking out her appearance in most of the shop windows they passed along the way. Julie was wrapped up in a large shapeless overcoat as protection against a cold windy night.

   ‘You look pretty, with your blonde hair and blue eyes, I would love to take you dancing on Saturday night.’ laughed Peter.

 Julie smiled and politely turned him down, mumbling.

‘Sorry Peter, I’m busy on Saturday.’

  Peter pressed her to meet him sometime soon and she responded by handing him her mobile phone number.

   It was later that night when he confided in Jane about Julie’s response and she said, ‘Julie never dates anyone, apparently she feels she’s too beautiful for any of the boys who are available, I think you are better off without that dubious pleasure.’

   Peter thought, (‘That’s unlike my sister to make a rather cruel remark like that!), but he didn’t say anything.

   It was just a couple of weeks later that Julie was rushed off to hospital where she almost died from lack of food, due to an eating disorder.

  Peter realised his sister Jane wasn’t being cruel, just protective of her brother.

    ‘Mirror, mirror on the wall who is the fairest of them all.’ 

   Most people when they look in the mirror are usually quite blind to certain points of the reflection. People who are continually looking at themselves in a mirror could be suffering from something called Body dysmorphic disorder (BDD). This is a mental illness where people think they look different to how they really look. 

 Anorexia, the most common of the eating disorders, causes the individual to see a very different image in the mirror than what the glass reflects. 

 Narcissus in Greek mythology, apparently was so impossibly handsome that he fell in love with his own image reflected in a pool of water.

© Written by John Yeo 

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I HOPE YOU FIND YOUR MAGIC

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SUNDAY 6th SEPTEMBER 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..

Today’s prompt ~ I HOPE YOU FIND YOUR MAGIC

September Writing Prompts

I HOPE YOU FIND YOUR MAGIC

by John Yeo

    ‘Sarah I have to go away for a while, over the enchanted mountains, through the mystical valleys. I am desperately searching for the key to my lost vitality and inspiration.’  

  The magician had a tear in his eye as he uttered these words to his beautiful daughter.

    ‘Why Father, everything has been fine and we are happily living here in a state of eternal bliss. What are you searching for?’

   ‘I am conscious of the difference in my abilities now, to when I first became a new, sparkling, go-ahead magician, able to work my magic in any situation. My state of mind is slowing and I fear for my magical abilities. I need to search for potions that will bring back my youth and speed of thought.’

  ‘Father, surely aging is a natural process and we live to increase our knowledge through experience. Aging is a good thing that allows us to experience new frontiers naturally.’

   The magician stopped and smiled at the logic behind this reply. ‘My darling daughter, you have grasped something that is not apparent to many people. I know of mystical elixirs that can nourish the aging person and reinvigorate the weakest cells in our aging brains. I will travel many miles and confront many demons along the lifespan of my travels to obtain the solution to my declining mental prowess.’

 ‘Father, I have heard there is no known cure here for the slow degeneration of mental powers caused by the dreadful creeping palsy of the brain that often comes with old age. I sadly wish you well and I hope you find your magic in time to restore your powers.’

© Written by John Yeo 

SENSELESS

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SUNDAY 6th SEPTEMBER 2020 ~ FLASH FICTION 

https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/author/sammicoxwriter/

SENSELESS

by John Yeo

‘Hey Google! Define Sentient.’

‘Here is the definition of Sentient: able to perceive or feel things.’

‘Hey Google! Love your voice’

‘Thanks I like your voice too.’

‘Hey Google! Are you sentient?’

‘ That question makes me a little self-conscious. You’re formed of cells and I’m formed of codes.’

‘Google! Love you!’

‘Google loves you too, so does his assistant.’

‘Hey Google, you are sentient.’

‘On a scale of WALL-E to Hal 9000, I’m Rdd2’

‘Hey Google! Love your sentient voice!’

‘Thanks you’re not so bad yourself.’

(86 WORDS)

Requiem of Hearts by Thaddeus Hutyra

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I was just bowled over by this poetry. 🌟

cocktailmolly's avatarcocktailmolly

Requiem of Hearts

Tides of life can be as sweeping as the tides of oceans
overflowing our enthralling Earth full of allure
What there, however, once was is no longer
gone with the wind the same way as the tides do
Focus thus on your life to the outmost
let especially your love flourish into symphonic flames.

You know, my dear, you are all the musical notes
of the magnificent library of music there is
of all the musical scriptures and overtures
quintessential and essential, effervescent
all the tones out of symphonic instruments
being played on the philharmonic stage.

You know, my dear, when you are with me
it feels to me to be in the midst of creative music
you, the music, your sensual body and your heart
your eyes shining like the most bright stars
the music brought to life by your femininity
the music of the Mozart…

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PASSING-ON THE PASSIONS

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SATURDAY 5th SEPTEMBER 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..

Today’s prompt ~ PASSING-ON THE PASSIONS

September Writing Prompts

PASSING-ON THE PASSIONS 

by John Yeo

Writing is seriously ingrained in my soul,

I put my mind to passing-on my passions

The end of my story is my innermost goal.

~

My mind lives the characters, taking a toll

Affecting every single one of my actions,

Writing is seriously ingrained in my soul.

~

Every hard won word is added to the scroll

As each written word my story refashions

The end of my story is my innermost goal.

~

My keyboard allows my words to extol

My plot shapes my physiological reactions

Writing is seriously ingrained in my soul.

~

Writing to pass on my passions, my role,

My concentration works without distractions

The end of my story is my innermost goal.

~

I realise my writing is a part of a whole

My story is just passing-on the passions 

Writing is seriously ingrained in my soul

The end of my story is my innermost goal.

© Written by John Yeo

KIDNAPPERS AND COUGARS

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FRIDAY 4th SEPTEMBER 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..

Today’s prompt ~ KIDNAPPERS AND COUGARS

September Writing Prompts

KIDNAPPERS AND COUGARS

by John Yeo

   The snatch had taken place as planned and the day dawned with Lord Percy, bound hand and foot in a remote cabin in the mountains. 

   Jim Murrell and Eddy Car were rubbing their hands together at the prospect of a large ransom that would soon be extorted from his parents, Lord and Lady Rochester.

  Jim remarked to Eddy, ‘We’ll leave young Percy here and drive back into town to make our financial demands.’

  ‘What about our young pay packet? Are we just going to leave him here tied up?’  asked Eddy.

‘Yeah, we’re only going to be gone for a few hours. He’ll be fine.’

An hour later the two villains were in a motel about 50 miles away negotiating a pickup place for £50,000 ransom, with Lord Rochester.

  Little did they know that they’d been followed by a middle aged vamp of a woman who had had Percy in her sights for quite some time. The moment they’d driven away, she entered the cabin and released Lord Percy and snatched him away to a luxury hotel where she proceeded to seduce him. Percy was overwhelmed with her charms, he’d never met a lady like this before and they got along like a house on fire.

 Meanwhile the kidnappers returned to the cabin where they were aghast to find their captive missing. They were later arrested after a mysterious tipoff to the police.

   Lord Percy and his newfound friend left the country together. Meanwhile the story broke as the headlines screamed.

A NOTORIOUS COUGAR ABDUCTS KIDNAP VICTIM.

The couple were quietly married and in spite of the obvious age gap and Lady Nellie’s reputation they lived happily ever after.

© Written by John Yeo 

I AM THE WEEKEND

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THURSDAY 3rd SEPTEMBER 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..

Today’s prompt ~ I AM THE WEEKEND

September Writing Prompts

I AM THE WEEKEND 

by John Yeo

 Monday said to Tuesday, ‘Although I start a fresh new week.

For some I’m an undesirable day. I blame the laid back attitudes generated by the weekend.’ 

   Tuesday nodded in reply and said. ‘I know! I follow you week in week out. Most people haven’t even got over the weekend freedom generated by the absence of stress and financial pressures of the regulated working week when they wake up with me.’

  Wednesday then arrived on the scene bringing the midweek blues. ‘I’m neither one thing or the other, the settled routine is now in charge and the weekend just gone, is as far away as the weekend to come. I feel the clockwork week in motion.’

   Thursday was wistful and feeling the strain, that weekend feeling was clearly on the way again. ‘My spirits are lifting, the reason is clear, The weekend is once again drawing near.’

   Then comes Friday with the promise of the two days to come. 

‘My day will end with all cares on the run. I herald a weekend of freedom for some, when I merge with Saturday and Sunday and we three become one. We take delight when my day turns to night. 

I am the weekend.’

© Written by John Yeo 

ERASING CLOUDS

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 WEDNESDAY 2nd SEPTEMBER 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..

Today’s prompt ~ ERASING CLOUDS

September Writing Prompts

ERASING CLOUDS

by John Yeo 

  The master painter was troubled as he was finally discharged from the select private sanatorium. Simone, his wife of thirty years  was at the entrance to meet him. They took their comfortable plush leather seats in the chauffeur driven limousine.

  Henri Rousseau had suffered from depression for most of his adult life and although Simone was quite used to his increasing absences, she was always delighted to welcome him on his return.

 Henri, was just 5 feet tall, with a penchant for wearing long haired wigs to cover his hairless head. He was a genius, a painter who could perform absolute magic with a paintbrush.

   ‘Please take me to my studio, my darling Simone, I have some alterations to make to my latest painting.’

    ‘Are you sure you are quite ready Henri? The consultant said, you should take things slowly for a while.’ 

   Simone sighed as she uttered these words, she was a gentle woman, who hadn’t lost much of her beauty as she had quietly endured the tumultuous early years of their marriage.

   ‘Yes of course, I’ve had a revolutionary new treatment, from a renowned psychologist that is guaranteed to erase the clouds of depression that have haunted me all my life. I need to get to the studio fast to reflect this treatment in my future work.’

  Simone ordered the driver to change direction and head for the studio and they arrived there in minutes. 

  Henri rushed into his studio and using a bright blue pigment, wildly brushed out every cloud in every picture he had painted. He actually began to smile again, something he’d almost forgotten.

 ‘You see Simone! I’m a well man now and in the future I will be forever erasing clouds from my work and my life.

© Written by John Yeo 

KISSING IN KAMACHA

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TUESDAY 1st SEPTEMBER 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..

Todays prompt is ~ KISSING IN KAMACHA

September Writing Prompts

KISSING IN KAMACHA

by John Yeo

  The geological survey group were following the Euphrates, the longest river in Western Asia.

   Led by Professor Armitage of Cambridge University, and his wife Elaine the group were exploring the fertile valleys along the riverside. Their guides and erstwhile travelling companions were  Mustafa, Eren, Ahmet and Burak.

   Mustafa, a tall man, with dark penetrating eyes and an eagle’s beak, shaped nose, approached the Professor.

   ‘We will soon arrive in the beautiful valley of Kamacha, Sir. There  is a large tribe there who have been known to be quite violent to strangers. I recommend we follow and respect their customs vigilantly.’

    Burak, his fellow traveller, who was standing beside him nodded his head in agreement.

   ‘Of course;’ responded the Professor, ‘We’re prepared to treat everyone with mutual dignity and respect.’

  Burak, a stocky, medium-height individual with long greasy dark hair, hitched his rifle over his shoulder and silently grinned.

 Professor Armitage then suggested a couple of members of the team should reconnoiter and report back. This idea was greeted with enthusiasm all round and the other members of the team would follow. 

   Morning broke splendidly over the river as the expedition reached Kamacha. They were greeted by a large group of local tribesmen, heavily armed with vicious knives and spears. Suddenly a huge obese man wearing nothing but a loincloth grabbed Elaine and started passionately kissing her. An overweight half naked lady then grabbed hold of the Professor and proceeded to kiss him all over his face. Several tribesmen suddenly were kissing the other male members of the expedition.

  Professor Armitage jumped back in horror and pulled his wife away.

  Mustafa shouted, ‘Have a care Sir, we promised to respect their customs and this is their form of greeting.

© Written by John Yeo