SATURDAY 29th AUGUST 2020
Weekend Writing Prompt #172 – Endless
ENDLESS
by John Yeo
Endless in eighteen words
Of course there’s nothing simpler
Make the word first in the verse
Mission accomplished!
(18 WORDS)
ENDLESS
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Author Archives: John Yeo
UNITED WE FELL
FRIDAY 28th 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
When the final operation was over Jenny and Jim were both tucked up in separate beds in the high intensive recovery ward. They had been through an intricate operation lasting 16 hours. Their parents, Alison and Arthur Green breathed a sigh of relief. Jenny and Jim were conjoined twins and they had just undergone separation surgery.
Dr. James Goodrich entered the private waiting area where the couple anxiously awaited the outcome of the operation and flopped down on a vacant easy chair.
‘Well we did it! We still have some way to go but your babies are now separated.’
Alison burst into tears at this.
The children were now two individuals. It was some years later that Jim remarked to his sister Jenny.
‘United we fell, if we ever tried to walk. United and always at one with each other.’
© Written by John Yeo
SAVAGE SEEDS
THURSDAY 27th 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..
SAVAGE SEEDS
by John Yeo
Seeds of destruction have been sown
To corrupt the thinking across the divide
Propaganda is a curse to bemoan.
~
Corruption is caustic, hate full blown
The truth is lost with nowhere to hide
Seeds of destruction have been sown.
~
The balance of probability has been thrown
Young minds are corrupted far and wide
Propaganda is a curse to bemoan.
~
Savage seeds everywhere, wildly shown
Half truth and rumours sit side-by-side
Seeds of destruction have been sown.
~
A generation of fake news newly grown
A treacherous reality of truth belied
Propaganda is a curse to bemoan.
~
Multi media is a vehicle into every home
Carrying the message with evil pride.
Seeds of destruction have been sown.
Propaganda is a curse to bemoan.
~
© Written by John Yeo
WISDOM TEETH WOES
WEDNESDAY 26th 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
I feel as the time for the operation gets close
The impact of the decision is becoming clear
I’m suffering from dreadful wisdom teeth woes.
~
When I heard the decision my heart just froze
I can imagine the effects with a deepening fear
I feel as the time for the operation gets close.
~
The pain I’m suffering isn’t a psychological pose.
Nothing on earth will bring any lighthearted cheer
I’m suffering from dreadful wisdom teeth woes.
~
The pain fills my mouth and reaches my nose
This horrendous feeling of pain becomes clear
I feel as the time for the operation gets close
~
Painkillers are tempting my head to propose
Glasses of whiskey with many bottles of beer
I’m suffering from dreadful wisdom teeth woes.
~
I can’t sleep or concentrate, my mind has just froze
I spend hours in continuous pain so severe
I feel as the time for the operation gets close.
I’m suffering from dreadful wisdom teeth woes.
© Written by John Yeo
COURTESIES AND CHARISMA
TUESDAY 25th 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..
COURTESIES AND CHARISMA
by John Yeo
Edgar was a reliable butler, an incredibly experienced man
who had served the family for years.
Sir Richard was extolling his manservant’s virtues in his gentlemen’s club.
‘We are lucky to have Edgar working for us, he is the sole of discretion, full of natural courtesy that he’s developed over the years.’
Sir Richard was an ex guards officer who normally would never leave himself open to criticism. That is the measure of the inbuilt respect the family had for their family retainer.
George Posonby-Smythe was a mischievous member of the club and chided Sir Richard.
‘Your courteous butler is invisible to your family and your guests. Always in the background; sadly a man like him has no charisma. He’s a shadow, a robotic nonentity.’
This was greeted with laughter from all those present.
Then another member, Charles Peace, an industrialist, chipped in and related a story that shattered the myth.
‘Not all butlers and senior members of top people’s staff are the sole of discretion. I have heard of a certain club that caters for some very charismatic transvestites and crossdressers. Now that requires an over abundance of charisma. What your butler does on his time off should be of no concern to anyone.’
Sir Richard went red with suppressed anger and left the club in a huff.
Oddly, Edgar courteously left his employment with Sir Richard’s household shortly after and became a famous charismatic pantomime dame.
© Written by John Yeo
THE FLAVOUR OF TRUTH
MONDAY 24th 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..
THE FLAVOUR OF TRUTH
by John Yeo
The Leader has declared the virus is dead!
A cure discovered, but where’s the proof?
The media refute the lies, however widespread
barely contain the flavour of truth.
People are testing positive, rumours are shed.
The opposition has issued a dramatic reproof
Leaving the population with a feeling of dread,
Our future is in the realms of dishonest misuse
of power that corrupts the soul by the head
Words that barely contain the flavour of truth,
Their Leader has declared the virus is dead.
© Written by John Yeo
THE HARMONY CIRCUIT
SUNDAY 23rd 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..
THE HARMONY CIRCUIT
by John Yeo
Something had pulled the plug and fused the reliable harmony circuit! The fans were staying at home!
It was always the same, year after year for Brad and his group, ‘The Strangers.’ These young men had been making the rounds for about ten years. Their music was well liked and their fans would pay good money to follow them around and hear them perform. Brad Wilkins was the lead singer, at six foot tall, he had shoulder-length black hair he usually kept tied back in a ponytail. Onstage he would leave his locks flowing freely as he danced and pranced around the various stages of the different venues on the harmony circuit. Then there was his younger brother on drums, nicknamed Shorty Wilkins he was just 5’.5” tall with a shaved head and an earring in each ear that gleamed brightly under the stage lighting. James Brown on the lead guitar was a stocky fellow of medium height, a singer with a permanent scowl on his face, who was always referred to as the hard man of the group. Finally, on the bass guitar, there was the nondescript cheeky chappy, Barry Hall; always smiling and having fun, well loved by everyone. Barry was average height and build and always wore his trademark beret, to hide his receding blonde hair.
The group’s voices harmonised beautifully and they were a popular act on the circuit.
Then the global pandemic arrived and pulled the plug on everything. This virus took everyone by surprise and the group were locked down and out of work.
After four months of inactivity, Brad took a job as a dustman, his brother Shorty worked on the council as a road sweeper. James and Barry both became ill and recovered to a life of unemployment. Life for The Strangers had become extremely strange indeed.
© Written by John Yeo
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ALTERNATING DEFICIENCIES
SATURDAY 22nd 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..
ALTERNATING DEFICIENCIES
by John Yeo
The car wouldn’t start and the appointment with the solicitor was extremely urgent. Bill and Katy were going through a painful divorce.
‘I want access to the children on Saturdays.’
Katy refused. ‘No Sunday is more convenient.’
There was always this ongoing argument, backwards and forwards.
To stop them coming to blows the solution was agreed by the court.
Visits would be allowed on alternative Saturdays and Sundays.
This proved to be a good temporary arrangement until it was realised there were alternating deficiencies neither partner would agree to be available on the relevant day. Soon a new day was firmly fixed; it was to be Friday or nothing.
When Bill took his car to the garage the mechanic diagnosed a fault with the alternator. The device that converts mechanical energy into electrical energy in the form of an alternating current,
consequently the battery wouldn’t charge up.
‘You will certainly need a new alternator.’ said the mechanic.
‘Fine!’ Bill replied, ‘When can you fix it?’
‘Next Friday! Our auto electrician only works on Friday.’
Bill swore and said. ‘My life seems to be full of alternating deficiencies at the moment.’
© Written by John Yeo
DOUBLE IMPACT
SATURDAY 22nd AUGUST 2020 ~ FLASH FICTION
https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/author/sammicoxwriter/
DOUBLE IMPACT
by John Yeo
Mary was of a nervous disposition, she was due to go for surgery to remove an unwanted growth on her neck. Fortunately for her the growth disappeared. She was elated until a further diagnosis was revealed.
‘Sorry you have an advanced form of cancer.’
Mary, shocked at the impact of this word, just sobbed her heart out.
Then a brand new treatment had an even bigger impact?
(67 WORDS)
I WAS HIS BUT HE WASN’T MINE
FRIDAY 21st 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..
I WAS HIS BUT HE WASN’T MINE
by John Yeo
Josephine smiled and looked so divine
As she gave the court her explanation.
‘The fact is, I was his but he wasn’t mine.
~
The Judge smiled, his thoughts to confine
How could this girl kill without compunction?
Josephine smiled and looked so divine
~
The lawyers pleaded a compassionate line
Pleading a mental state, her sad Iteration
‘The fact is, I was his but he wasn’t mine.
~
The jury concentrated, she seemed so benign,
The outcome was sure without complication
Josephine smiled and looked so divine
~
Witnesses drew a portrait of a man so fine
Josephine had killed without rationalisation
‘The fact is, I was his but he wasn’t mine.’
~
The judge gave his verdict a cell should confine
Her to a life of internment and sad isolation
Josephine smiled and looked so divine
‘The fact is, I was his but he wasn’t mine.’
© Written by John Yeo
