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BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

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Welcome to What Pegman Saw, a 150-word weekly writing prompt inspired by the photos found on Google Maps. Yep, that’s really a picture of Manhattan.  Inwood Park, at the very tip of the island, is one of the few places on the island that looks as it did three hundred years ago.

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

by John Yeo

Gerald stood at the top of the hill transfixed and just stood drinking in the absolute beauty that seemed to reach out and draw him on. Georgina breathlessly caught up, then gasped with surprised wonder.

Suddenly there was a chuckle as a rough looking stranger emerged from the depths of a nearby copse. A middle-aged, rather overweight, bearded man stood before them, he had long greasy black hair, with grey streaks, held in position with a battered trilby hat. His bushy black eyebrows met in the middle, atop a large crooked nose. He suddenly opened his mouth to reveal a blackened set of uneven, crooked, gap-filled teeth.

‘I see both of you young people are overwhelmed with this place. I’m Captain Ted, a hungry man and I’ll thank you to turn out your pockets and give me everything you find in them. Oh! And I’ll take that smartphone you’re clutching’

(150 WORDS)

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

SLAVES TO ADDICTION (The tunnel out of addiction)

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Photo Credit: Joy Pixley

SLAVES TO ADDICTION 
(The tunnel out of addiction)

By John Yeo

 The first thing that comes to mind when one thinks about slavery, is the horror of the period between 1600, when slavery was reputed to have begun in the UK and 1863 when slavery was officially abolished in the USA. Sadly this is just the tip of a hidden iceberg.    Almost every one of us is a slave to an addiction in one form or another. Whether it be one of the obvious big four, Alcohol, Drugs, Tobacco, or Gambling or another enslaving addiction such as food, or the habitual rejection of food as in Anorexia, diets and slimming fads. A misers addiction is the storing up of gold and a hatred of expenditure. Henry’s addiction was an unmentionable addiction, except of course to his therapist.
  Ruth was also attending the same clinic for her similarly addictive behaviour. Dr Wesley, was a practical man and he brought these two young people together. ‘Henry and Ruth, I’ve tried everything to effect a cure for your addiction, so far without success. However there is light at the end of the tunnel, I propose to allow a period for you to relate to each other and effect a joint cure.’

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(200 WORDS)

© John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

This story was written for Sunday Photo Fiction hosted by Susan Spaulding.

A PICTORIAL PRESENTATION

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Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding

A PICTORIAL PRESENTATION

by John Yeo

Expectations were high throughout the school. The esteemed artist was arriving at precisely 14.00 hours to judge the pupils work. A prize was on offer.

The headmistress. Miss Elaine Smithers, and Luigi Pescasso had both attended art college in London. Elaine had encouraged her brightest, creative pupils to do their best to produce some pictures along the same lines as the great Luigi.

Tommy Dawkins was favourite to win and his painting of a donkey took pride of place among the exhibits. Entitled, ‘The Ass,’ it was hung on the wall alongside, Mary Green’s, ‘Dog with a Bone,’ And Elaine William’s, ‘Girl leading a Pig’. There was an interesting painting of a headless horse, painted by Mary Tomkins. The classroom wall was covered with a variety of paintings The moment arrived and there was a hush as the great man walked along the line of pictures. He took a deep breath then said.

‘I find there are four paintings equally good and I award four first prizes. ‘The Girl leading a Pig to the Dog with a Bone, leads to the Backside of a Horse that finally ends up as an Ass.’ Well done you four talented young people.’

© John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

(199 WORDS)

This story was written for Sunday Photo Fiction hosted by Susan Spaulding.

IMAGINATION

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FLASH FICTION (WRITING PROMPT)

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IMAGINATION

by John Yeo 

It was just a year ago I first came into contact with Jessie, a forty-five years old divorcee. Jessie had long, blonde hair that obviously came with the aid of a bottle. She had a pair of sultry bright green eyes with long black eyelashes. A cute, full pair of kissable lips, rested under a tiny turned up nose. She wore a pair of designer glasses when she was shopping or at home, however she preferred to use contact lenses socially, in the interest of her vanity. All-in-all, she was the complete woman of my dreams.
My name is Norman Jones. I’m an eighteen years old student at the local Polytechnic College. At six feet two, I was tall for my age and a good all-round athlete. My grades in college had been excellent and it looked as if I was on my way to a glittering career in Science.
My best friend Matt, a fellow student, was lucky enough to live at home while I resided in student digs. Matt was a kind, cheerful sort of a bloke, who was a bit on the short side, at roughly 5 foot 5 inches tall, he was extremely sensitive about his height. He had a shock of red hair that prompted our cruel fellow students to call him Ginger. Matt hated this nickname for various reasons not the least being the extension to Ginger Beer.
Nevertheless there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his friends.
Then one fateful day I met Matt in town.
‘Hi Norm! How’s it going?’
‘Fine thanks Matt, I’m just off back to the digs to open a can of beans and feast on these takeaway chips.’ I replied.
‘No mate, really! Why don’t you come back to mine? My Mum won’t mind and you’ll get some decent grub.’
I was taken aback by this generous offer.
‘Thanks Matt! You sure your Mum won’t mind? It’ll certainly beat beans and cold chips.’
’Sure thing mate: Come along with me now.’
We made our way to the bus station and caught a bus to the city suburbs back to Matt’s place.
Little did I realise this was going to be a life changing experience for me. My life was about to take a totally unforeseen and unexpected turn. Nothing could have prepared me for my meeting with Matt’s Mum.
As we entered the house he called out, ‘Hi Mum!’
There was a muffled response from upstairs as we entered the house together.
Then I stopped and couldn’t help myself from staring, as a mature, glamorous blonde lady appeared from the hallway.
‘Mum,’ said Matt, ‘Meet Norman, my best friend from college. Is it OK if he stays and has some dinner with us?’
‘Of course he can darling, come inside and make yourself at home Norman. My, what a tall handsome lad you are!’
I blushed and stuttered, ‘Thththank yyyou’
Matt laughed as she said to me, ‘Don’t be shy, I’m only joking.’
Matt then said, ‘Take your shoes off Norm, as Mum’s just had a new carpet laid.’
I kicked off my trainers and followed Matt into the lounge where he picked up a remote and switched on the TV; flicking through the channels until he found a football match in full swing.
Matt’s Mum, bustled in smiling as she asked, ‘You two guys want a drink? Juice or a cold beer?’
I nodded and replied, ‘Thanks Mrs Peterson, I’ll have a beer.’
‘Please call me Jessie, Norman.’ My insides were churning up with some strange sensations as she sweetly said this. I had heard of the effect some women have on a man but this was puzzling to me.
‘Do you like your steak well done or rare?’
‘Well done please Jessie’ I replied. as I savoured the sound of her name.
‘OK!’ She said as she headed towards the kitchen.
I badly needed to use the toilet as I said to Matt. ‘Which ways your bathroom mate?’
‘Just through the kitchen.’ he replied.
I entered the kitchen and noticed Jessie preparing the meal. I suddenly felt strangely light headed.  In that moment, I felt my knees give way from under me and I just fell to the ground.

©️John Yeo~ All rights reserved.

heart

 

ELVIS ALMOST ELVIS

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IMG_5712-1ELVIS ALMOST ELVIS

by John Yeo

  We enjoyed a wonderful show for our final night of this festive break at Gunton Hall in Suffolk. We soaked up the music and magic of Elvis Presley, performed by Mark Summers, backed by the Memphis Sons; an excellent tribute band,
Mark Summers, the Elvis Presley, lookalike and sound-alike was magnificent, full of the energy and sophistication required to pull off brilliant renditions of legendary song after legendary song; bringing many pleasant dormant memories to life. The audience were mainly from the age that experienced these massive hits when they were performed by the great man himself.
Mark Summers had his audience waving their arms in the air while singing along to the well-remembered words of these Elvis Presley classics. With the help of an attractive lady backing singer and the brilliant sounds of his backing group, the Memphis Sons. Margaret and I enjoyed this show enormously and we finished the evening dancing pleasurably to the music as this enigmatic singer performed the encores demanded by his smitten audience.

LISTENING

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I wrote this post for ‘The Quintet’ our church magazine in response to the theme of…Listening.

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LISTENING

by John Yeo

Scientists and millions of expectant outer space fans, spend their lives listening for signs of extraterrestrial life. Life that theoretically exists many light years away in the depths of the known and the unknown universes. Nations have invested enormous sums of money and effort to hear a response, so far without success.

There are many types of listening posts all over the world. People gather in churches and places of worship everywhere, seeking solace, searching for signs of the reawakening of a special herald announcing the return of our Saviour. Listening for signs and interpreting ancient texts for guidance, the inner ear is always hungrily searching for answers.

A place of worship of any denomination is a gathering of people congregated to seek the understanding to go forward and prepare for the life to come.

Each and every one of us has an inner ear avidly scrutinising and interpreting every thought that may lead to answers. An inner ear that not only receives information from the outer ear but listens to the incoming waves of empathetic signs and feelings generated by others.

By continuing to listen; having the faith to keep the inner ear concentrated while searching for the message, is surely the true meaning of the words in the spoken message.

‘Have Faith.’

Happy New Year!

28th December 2018 ~ © John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

INVISIBLE DESTRUCTION

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coastal town

Photo Credit: Anurag Bakhshi

INVISIBLE DESTRUCTION

by John Yeo

  Old Alexander always took the new recruits to the top of the high hill overlooking the small coastal town. This was part of their initiation and orientation into the elite fighting force that protected the townspeople from sudden attack.
  Old Alexander would always begin by relating the story of the vicious war that broke out in the area 30 years previously. The enemy had sited their guns at the top of this hill and continuously blasted the valley until the town below was reduced to rubble; heaps and piles of accumulated concrete everywhere. There was a loss of many lives but by far the greatest number of people escaped by climbing aboard the many fishing boats and assorted vessels moored in the bay.
Our people returned in force and drove the invaders out. Every building you see before you are brand new; some have never been occupied. After the reconstruction was almost complete, our enemies returned and showered the area with devastating lethal chemical weapons. There was an immediate exodus over the sea and most of the townspeople escaped, many leaving everything behind.
The war that followed was devastating. Our people can never re-occupy their homes.

© John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

Written as part of Sunday Photo Fiction. Write a story of around 200 words based on the photo prompt given (above). Hosted by Susan Spaulding. For more details visit..
https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/

coastal town

Photo Credit: Anurag Bakhshi

 

 

(200 WORDS)

RED LIGHTING

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Welcome to Sunday Photo Fiction! Each week I will post a new photograph, taken either by myself or donated by a member of the community. The challenge is to write a story using 200 words or less based, on the prompt. When you are done, post your story and the photo prompt on your blog. Please make sure you give proper credit to the photographer. Use the InLinkz froggy icon below to add your story to the SPF collection. While you are there, take time to read and comment on some of the other stories. I know you will not be disappointed.

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Photo Credit Susan Spaulding

 

RED LIGHTING 

by John Yeo

  Billy and Mary were lovers. From the moment they met, it was a flash of lightning that lit up the fires of longing.
Billy was at a crossroads when he first met Mary. He’d just left school without any qualifications and without any chance of a job. Dyslexia was the funny word his English teacher had used. Billy hadn’t a clue what that meant. A stocky lad, with a shock of shoulder-length red hair, that hung loosely on his shoulders. Again his English teacher, Mr. Sykes, had a theory that red-haired people were renowned for being short-tempered and irritable, easily distracted without the means to apply themselves to the task in hand. Billy had his own opinions on bitter, bigoted, world-weary, self-opinionated English teachers who were swayed by popular prejudices against anyone who appeared slightly different.
Billy had a business in full swing with his Uncles who were fishermen.
He managed to change the colour of the harbour coast lights by inserting cellophane paper to warn the boats not to approach shore whenever there was danger. Smuggling was helping Billy get the funds to marry Mary and take her away. Billy was a genius.

© John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

 

Meditation

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Gunton Lake

I thought I would like to share this beautiful picture of Gunton Lake again. Margaret captured this image from under some trees using her iPhone. I like the way the gold Autumn leaves on the trees are reflected in the blue surface of the lake. The deep blue colour of the water gets increasingly lighter as the water flows beneath the direct sunlight. With a scattering of wind-transported golden leaves floating on the surface of the water this picture is a magic carpet ride into meditation.

 

ELECTRICITY AT WHAT COST

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I wrote the following piece of flash fiction for our church magazine in response to the theme of Electricity. Sadly there is a lot of truth embedded in this little tale Somewhere there has to be a solution to our need to power new homes for our ever increasing population. At what cost?

ELECTRICITY AT WHAT COST

by John Yeo

The electricity of inter-species tolerance and communication in action.

  The sun was shining and although it was quite cold, we decided to go for a stroll around the lake. Sweet chestnuts and empty husks lay in great profusion under the trees. Autumn leaves underfoot scrunched as we strolled along a well-worn path. There was a distinctly autumnal feel to our walk, as we strolled along treading the crunchy leaves underfoot. Many sweet chestnuts and husks were piled under the trees, left behind by the ever-busy grey squirrels as they secreted sweet chestnut kernels in hidden larders as a store of food for the long winter months ahead. Many of these playful squirrels were chasing each other up and down the trees as we strolled along. A good number of Moorhens and Mallard Ducks were swimming on the surface of the lake and in tiny inlets under the trees. The ever-present avaricious Gulls were swooping around over the lake and floating on the water squabbling with each other. We passed a pair of Egyptian Geese sleeping on the banks of the lake, who obligingly awoke and posed for a photograph as we walked by. Many Wood Pigeons were pecking around in the grass, it’s a wonder there is food enough here to support this large community of different species of birdlife, together with the Squirrels and the ever increasing number of Rabbits.

   Then, nailed to a tree was a notice. We had heard rumours on the communal grapevine about the fate of this beautiful spot, and here it was plain for all to see. The owners of this lovely beauty spot had sold out to big business. This beautiful area was to be destroyed and replaced with two giant wind turbines and a mast for telephone and broadband reception. The bases of these three monstrosities would be concreted over for stability and ease of maintenance. These two turbines would generate enough electricity to power up to 6000 homes.

Sadly, we continued along our way, thoughts were racing through my mind. Ripples in the lake betrayed the presence of many large fish, the lake is situated within a few hundred yards of the coast. Freshwater fish obviously thrive here, kept under control by the attention of the local family of Herons. Another pair of Mallard Ducks swam lazily on the surface of the water and a Moorhen raced for cover as we walked noisily by on the multi-coloured leaves. Suddenly there was a movement at a small pool on the banks of the lake as a large Toad with a distinctive yellow stripe along his back came into view. He didn’t hop along he almost walked out of the reeds alongside the pool.

‘My God!’ I thought, ‘I don’t believe it; that is certainly a Natterjack Toad. A member of a protected species. This development will never go ahead’

Our mood suddenly became euphoric as the implications of this discovery became clear.

I quickly pulled out my iPhone and began taking many photographs of this saviour of the natural environment.

The rest is history, the turbines were relocated, providing the much-needed electricity for the planned new homes and in the following Spring many baby Mallard ducks and Egyptian Geese will be born here and there should be strings of Natterjack Toads eggs in the pools surrounding our beautiful protected lake.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.