PAIN THIEF

A Prompt Response for Inspiration Monday

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Image © Copyright John and Margaret

A Prompt response for Inspiration Monday

PAIN THIEF

by John Yeo

 It came upon Old Fred slowly, without any warning, just a gradual seepage of the atrocious, mind blowing pain he had learned to live with all his life. Fred was disturbed about this development,

 He looked down at his gnarled bent fingers and hands, ‘No change’ he thought. ‘I don’t like this, ‘I’m usually suffering sharp pains at this time of day. I think I’ll have to see the Doctor. These new drugs he has prescribed are actually making a difference.

 

 The next day, found Fred in the Doctor’s surgery waiting room, sitting next to a smartly dressed lady who couldn’t stop coughing all over the place.

 ‘Hmm’ thought Fred, ‘I hope I don’t catch anything nasty whilst I am sitting here!’

   Fred turned to the lady, smiled, and said;  “Can I offer you one of my special large soft tissues?”

        “Oh!  Thanks so much, I have just run out.” She replied, returning Fred’s smile,

Then she suddenly began moving and walking as if she had cramp in her legs.

    “Are you alright?” Asked Fred in a concerned voice.

   “Yes thanks! Ouch! I seem to have been struck with very sharp pains in my legs.” She replied.

      ‘That’s odd,” thought Fred, ‘my pains have virtually left me now.’

Fred’s name was the next to be flashed up on the screen and he walked straight in to see the Doctor. He suddenly realised he had left his stick behind, Fred had never walked without a stick for years.

     “Hallo Mr Jones, how can I help you? Oh dear, excuse me, I have a terrible pain in my arm. Sorry Mr Jones. What seems to be the trouble.”

     “Well Doctor, as you know, from my records I have suffered pain all my life! I have learned to live with it. Now it seems to be going fast, I miss the feelings of agony as the pain shoots through me. 

   Are you alright Doctor? I thought I recognised the effects of a spasm in you just now! Anyway, I think I am a victim of pain theft, your tablets have stolen a part of my life away.”

 

    “Yes! I’m fine now thanks. I can’t imagine where that pain came from. Let me get this straight, Mr Jones, you are here because you no longer have your pains. I find that unusual behaviour, I can’t help you get the pains back, I’m afraid. I am going to make an appointment for you to…

  Ouch! There’s, that strange pain again!…Sorry Mr Jones I want you to see our Practice Nurse, she is a pain specialist, who will assess your pain Then, if you think you are the victim of a pain thief, I will make an appointment for you to see a Psychologist. Ow! That was painful!  I will just ring for the Nurse to take a look at you straight away.”

 

    Nurse Joseph’s knocked on the door and bustled into the consulting room.

   “Ouch!  Would you take a look at Mr Jones, for me please and assess his pain levels?”

      “Certainly Doctor. Oh my God!” She exclaimed, rubbing her shoulder vigorously. “Come this way Mr Jones, Ouch! Excuse me, I have sudden shooting pains in my arms and shoulders.”

 They left the Doctor’s consulting room together.

 

  The Doctor suddenly drew an astonishing unbelievable conclusion. In all his career he had never encountered anything quite like what he was considering. His previous patient had come in with a severe cold, and suddenly developed painful legs. He had never had spasms of pain in his life before today,  then Nurse Joseph’s mysterious pains began as soon as she entered his office.

 

  Sometime later the Doctor called in a Neurologist and after confiding his astonishing suspicions to the Neurologist, he ordered Mr Jones to be placed in an isolation ward with barrier nursing.

  The irate Mr Jones asked for the Police to be called to investigate the mysterious theft of his pain.

 A Psychologist arrived and was soon doubled up in severe pain, when he was introduced to Mr Jones.

That settled the diagnosis of Infectious Pain Syndrome.

 

Fred was placed in an isolation unit, where he sadly died three days later, having decided everyone he had come into contact with, was a pain thief, making his life nothing but a miserable pain-free existence.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

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AGGRESSIVE SLEEP

A Prompt Response for Inspiration Monday

Inspiration Monday: Aggressive Sleep

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Image from the net

A prompt response for Inspiration Monday: Aggressive Sleep

 

AGGRESSIVE SLEEP

by John Yeo

    “Insomnia, Insomnia, Insomnia. This awful bloody Insomnia! What else can I do? The medics have prescribed every pill and potion known to the human race. Nothing works.

I am in training and my mind is totally focused on getting the right result in the fight, my reflexes are slowing slightly. I need help, urgent help; or I will definitely lose!”

 Jason hadn’t slept for days, his manager had tried every way, no expense spared, to get his man to sleep.

 “I just can’t get to sleep, whatever I do.” Jason went on, “I keep worrying about the result and counting the money we will earn, the fight is always on my mind, night and day.”

  Tommy Ricardo was an able and experienced manager, he had handled many fighters in his career but this was new. A fighter who was gradually losing his touch, losing his reflexes, and the chance of taking the title. The glory and rewards were gradually slipping away, unless something could be done and fast. Tommy had heard of a Guru from India, who could guarantee to put Jason to sleep, but the cost was phenomenal. Tommy took Jason to see the mystic, Jason was tired; tired and nervous: His temper was brittle.

  “What the hell! If he gets me to sleep it will be worth the money I guess.” said Jason. “I suppose he will influence me to sleep, using hypnosis. Is that really worth all this money?”

 Tommy nodded in agreement and replied. “The accountants have done their sums and they maintain, this fight will be worth tens of millions if you win. We must find a way to get you to relax and sleep!”

  The Guru smiled a welcome, he sat on a pile of cushions and waved the two men to take a seat. An interpreter was present and opened the conversation with words of welcome. Then a question.

  “The Guru asked have you brought the money, we need the cash up front. He has studied the case and he guarantees that Jason will be asleep within minutes of the exchange, using a technique of his own invention.”

Tommy looked askance at Jason?  “Are you ready for this? Shall I pay them?”

“Yeah go ahead! If it works as he guarantees, then our problems are over” Jason said.

 Tommy handed a suitcase to the interpreter, after the cash was counted and taken away, the Guru motioned Jason to enter a private room.

  The next few minutes passed quickly, there was a familiar sounding crack, the Guru came out smiling and spoke to the interpreter, who turned and said, “The news is good, your man is fast asleep. Our women have covered him with rugs, he will sleep long, as his tiredness was extreme.”

 

“How did he do that so fast?”  asked Tommy.

“This is a new revolutionary, Aggressive Sleep Therapy, administered by an unexpected left hook, works every time,” smiled the interpreter.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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HARMLESS

FLASH FICTION ~ This is a flash fiction story based on a photograph of a Tree Peony taken in our garden.

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Image © Copyright John and Margaret ~ All rights reserved

HARMLESS

by John Yeo

    The searchers were ever breaking new barriers searching for supplies of the life rejuvenating substance. Flyers from neighbouring hives would do battle in the skies over new territories, where undiscovered unknown sources of nectar could be found.

    Humphrey was a warlike bee who had fought in many a stinging battle with members of a neighbouring hive. Humphrey never travelled alone, he was always accompanied by Harriet his constant companion and fellow explorer.

   One memorable day Harriet zoomed back from an exploration sortie, in a state of zizzling excitement!

   Humphrey had never seen her behave like this and he waggled his wings and zignalled his disapproval.

    “Humphrey, call out the swarm! I have discovered the largest source of nectar I have ever seen, Huge flowers, on a bush, flowers as large as a whole planet. We must stake out the territory, drive out the opposition and store up the supplies!” Harriet hummed excitedly.

      The sight that met Humphreys eyes as he flew over the fence almost stopped him in mid-flight. Huge pink blooms, shielding hearts of delight, literally oozing sweet nectar in undreamt of quantities, confronted him. There were several unidentified alien smaller bees, buzzing aggressively around.

       “Harriet; return and call for reinforcements, we need everybody here, fighters, workers, even the drones. These are very valuable sources of supply, we must drive out these aliens and stake our claim.”

      Humphrey attacked the smaller bees who reacted in surprise and flew away fast, Humphrey was delighted at such an easy conquest, as the squadrons and drones of his swarm moved in and began gathering the seemingly endless supplies of nectar.

      Rumbling waves of sound, became faintly audible, and got increasingly closer.

       ’Sounds like a storm on the way!’ thought Humphrey.

     Then as he looked up, a squadron of the alien bees arrived, followed by two of the largest bees he had ever seen. When these monsters started attacking his swarm, Humphrey got angry and charged the leader sinking his sting into the monster’s eye. Harriet could see her soulmate was in danger and promptly attacked the other large bee in exactly the same way. The remainder of their swarm then attacked the two huge aggressors from every angle and brought them down.

  Sometime later two humans were admiring the large flowers, watching the bees hard at work, one bent forward to smell the perfume.

 

   “Watch out, there are bees about, you may get stung!”  Said one in a warning voice.

      “Don’t worry, these are honey bees, they are harmless.”  The other one replied.

 

 Humphrey staggering under another load of nectar had to smile at that.

 

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

 

 

 

THE SOUR HONEY

  I wrote the following piece of Flash Fiction on a whim, without any prompt whatsoever, and I will have to find a picture that will fit.

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Image © Copyright John and Margaret

 

THE SOUR HONEY

by John Yeo

      “Hi!-ram! Hi! everyone, welcome to the hive!” Jazzy fluttered her wings and buzzed in approval as the Bees settled in the crevices of the inner sanctum of the hive. They had deposited the stores of pollen they had collected and were relaxing, waiting for the entertainment to begin.

    Let me introduce you to Jazzy, the life and soul of the party. A social whizzing, buzzing, busy little Bee, flitting and fluttering, from flower to flower, full of twisty tricks and manipulative ploys.

     The worker Bee, in a position of trust. A situation that requires a high degree of self assurance and quick thinking. This is an ingrained state of mind that has been polished and honed over many years. The fields always full of the flowers of opportunity, stretched out for miles in every direction, full of the beautiful colours and attractive perfumes that advertise the nectar stored within their petals.

      Jazzy was competent and well liked by all the Under-Bees in her specialist department of the hive. A heaving, hustling, haven, providing the pleasures and pastimes to keep the shifting population of workers and the coterie of the inner sanctum happy.

       The hive choir sprang into a joyful refrain of gloriously tuneful assorted buzzes as Jazzy introduced herself. “Welcome to the show, all those who have laboured to gain entrance here to the hive. Welcome, my name is Jazzy, we are here to have a good time and allow everyone to relax and have some fun, before work recommences tomorrow. Dust the pollen off your fur, sit on your stings, relax and enjoy the entertainment, I have some wonderful hummers and aerial artistes to set before you, to excite the senses and satiate the appetites of all you hard workers. Enjoy! Taste the nectar and pay homage to the Queen Bee who resides in the inner sanctum.

     It was then Jazzy noticed a couple of returning Bees in the audience, who she had taken a distinct dislike to in the distant past. Her reaction was a stinging public, unthoughtful remark, preceded by the sting in her tail rising to the occasion.

        “I have just seen some buzzy Bees, that I will be avoiding like the plague of  the dreaded mildew of the wing, that has infected millions of our fellow Bees recently!” Jazzy hardly realised she had made a serious error of judgement at this moment, this was supposed to be a warm welcome to the hive. Such unbelievable arrogance had accumulated over many successful welcome to the hive parties.

      The Queen Bee was furious and requested her secretary to arrange an interview at the earliest opportunity.

    There was a sting in the tail of this unfortunate affair as Jazzy’s wings were clipped back severely after this incident.

 

Copyright. © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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THE PASSIVE STABILITY OF THE PERFECT LOCK

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Image © Copyright John and Margaret

This is a piece of Flash Fiction based on and inspired by the above photograph

 

THE PASSIVE STABILITY OF THE PERFECT LOCK

by John Yeo

     An amorphous fog was the general state of mind, as far as the future was concerned for Jack, as his life suddenly underwent an incredible change.

   The consulting-room in Harley Street, London, was a plush well furnished suite of rooms.

      “Good morning Sir! How can I help you?” enquired a tall smartly dressed, pretty young woman, in a soft cultured, reassuring voice.

  ‘Wow! Thought Jack, she is obviously a well educated secretary, probably a daughter of wealthy Caribbean parents.

    “Wwwell!” he stammered awkwardly,     “I have an appointment to see Dr Green, my name is Mathews, Jack Mathews.”

   “Just a moment Sir. Ah yes! I will let him know you are here. Please take a seat in the waiting room.”

 Jack sat down in the luxurious surroundings and took in the incredible array of reading material that was strategically placed on various antique coffee tables. ‘I don’t feel like reading’ he thought. His eyes roamed over the walls, he was soon overwhelmed by the gallery of beautiful paintings displayed.

   One particular picture caught his eye. The artist had painted a figure of a man running in abject terror, with his hands covering his face. ‘Obviously based on the famous picture by Edvard Munch,’ he thought. ‘What is that doing here?”

    Then incredibly the image changed to a picture of his life before the bonds of his perfect marriage changed everything. He had been running away from life, until Meg became a part of him. Love had been overwhelming and beautiful, a strong relationship developed, marriage had followed a year later. Bonded, never apart, each day sweeter than the last,

  Many deliriously happy years later the suspicions began to set in. Many differing tests followed; each one pointing more directly to the terminal diagnosis.

      ‘I must do something to tempt the Lord of chance to smile on me. The diagnosis will not come as a terrible shock’ he thought as he went over the last few years in his mind.

     “Doctor Green will see you now, Mr Mathews.”  the secretary smiled as she said these words.

  Jack entered the Doctor’s office nervously with a large lump in his throat, his heart was racing.

   Then he became aware that the doctor was actually smiling. Jack was taken aback as the Doctor went on to say. “I am pleased to say you are totally clear of the symptoms of the cancer you have displayed and you should be clear of fears for the future. Your marriage is the key to a long and a happy life. Congratulations!”

  “There is no cure for this! However can you tell if the perfect lock is secure if you have no keys?” asked Jack

    “Love is the cure! The answer will be the happiness in the face that looks back at you from any mirror in the world,”  was the reply.

     “My secretary will see you on your way out to settle up once and for all. You will require no further appointments.”

 

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.  

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Image © Copyright John and Margaret

 

PHANTOM LIBRARY

Inspiration Monday: Phantom Library

This is a prompt response for Inspiration Monday

Inspiration Monday: Phantom Library

PHANTOM LIBRARY

by John Yeo

   Walter was a learned man, a man of many parts, who followed the spiritual uplifting occupation of haunting the words of eloquent spirits from heavenly dreaming spires. The universal leading fount of all that was known to be or not to be. He was interested in many things. In the olden days of books that burnt, Walter set the world on fire amanuensis was the key. Snotter was a drip feeder of the key facts that were daily spewed forth by the great man’s pen. Walter and Snotter were jolly good friends a team that would attempt to access the formidable phantom libraries of the believable, and approach the unbelievable with utmost caution. Walter one day approached the inner sanctum of the brotherhood of phantasmagorical imagination and asked for access to the innermost shelf of forbidden fruitfulness.

    “I have come here absolutely denatured, demanding access to the temple of garish ghostliness combined with glorious ghastliness, to study in the mystical mire of spiritual desire. I have paid the price of panicky fearfulness to extract the phantasmagorical from the fantastical mire of the Phantom Library.” He demanded, in a voice that betrayed nothing short of minor irritation, to the almost nonexistent invisible moronic entity at the portals of a cloudy cavernous Phantom Library.
Eerily empty shelves of phantom knowledge, loomed up menacingly in reply. Snotter attempted to gain entrance from the rear, however a fearsome wind blew him backwards.
A message flashed fearsomely on a crystalline screen. Sign in with your password or sign up with your phantom facts to gain access to the glugger search spook and the phantoms will access the knowledge from the phantasmagorical phantomime library. Glugger ghoulish ghostliness is here to pave the way forward.
Walter and Snotter were on the way to gain access to the magical mystical world of the fantastical Glugger search engine. The incredible effluence located in the glorious Glugger phantom library, brought amazing dot.com affluence to Walter and Snotter.

Image © Copyright John and Margaret


Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved 

HEARING VOICES

This piece of Flash Fiction is  a story I conjured up based on this photograph of an interesting sculpture from among my illustrated souvenirs.

HEARING VOICES

by John Yeo

 Ted Smith, was a renowned seer and futurologist, a man, they say, who could predict the future with incredible accuracy. Ted’s history was one of the checkered variety that made historians and members of the medical profession choke on their morning coffee.

 Ted had left school at fourteen, shunned by the teaching staff and his fellow pupils alike for his insistence that he could hear voices coming from below the ground. Voices that actually spoke to him and tried to warn him about events that were about to happen. Everyone laughed when he warned about wildfires, floods, and acts of chance that promised to kill many people in countries far away from where he lived, on the other side of the globe. 

 Ted had been in and out of mental hospitals and psychiatric institutions for most of his life, subjected to some of the most incredible cures for the insane that were ever invented, including electric shock, and aversion therapy, before anyone really took any notice of what the voices he professed to hear actually said to him.

 A renowned psychologist, Madeline Gentle began to listen and subjected him to some tests, simple at first. 

  Jokingly, one day before the famous horse race, the Grand National, Madeline said to him.

“Write down in the correct order the first three horses that will pass the winning post tomorrow”

 “Easy!” Ted replied and put his head to the ground then handed her back the piece of paper with the horses names listed. “There will also be a shocking flood in Bengal that will kill thousands.” He added.

  “OK! Now write down the name of the top three companies that will be most successful on the stock market tomorrow please.” Requested the doctor amiably.

  “Certainly!” Ted put his head to the ground and wrote three names on a piece of paper. “There will also be a wildfire in Australia that will cause much damage.”

 Sensationally every prophetic word came true. Ted was then feted and swiftly became renowned for his abilities. Much money was made from his forecasting abilities and the world began to take notice of his every utterance as many devastating phenomena were stopped before they began.

Ted began to relay much scientific information from the voices, including the incredibly simple free energy that was to become a boon to the world. Along with many new cures for a variety of cursed illnesses that had scythed down many of the finest minds that mankind had ever produced. 

 One very sad but remarkable day after having placed his head to the ground, Ted announced, “I have to say goodbye to this world as I am about to die!” There was a ripple of shock among his followers and the huge audience, he had attracted to his daily forecasting sessions.

  A man in the front row of the audience pulled out a gun and shot him dead. 

   “Death to the difference!” The man shouted as he pulled the trigger, before turning the gun on himself and pulling the trigger. 

 A Saint was born at that split second and St. Ted is worshipped and venerated in many corners of the globe to this day.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

PICTURE IT AND WRITE ~ A VERY FINE BALANCE

This is the latest Picture it and Write Prompt from Ermilia’s page.

Picture it & Write

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As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia.

A VERY FINE BALANCE

by John Yeo

He sees the world with unique eyes.

The eyes of youth, full of his personal view,

selfish to the point of careless.  

He is aware of his own perspective 

on the events in this uniquely individual world. 

Everything seems fine, no matter what, 

he always seem to survive.

Tomorrow is another day!

A day that never arrives they say.

~~~~~

Reality reflects a different view.

 A view from the outside looking in

Although he casts a long straight shadow

The stairs leading up shape another view.

Teetering on the brink of a downward fall.

 A fall that will certainly come 

~~~~~~~

A very fine balance indeed!

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “ DYNASTIC PRESSURE”

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“The Future” ~ Image © Copyright John and Margaret

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “DYNASTIC PRESSURE”
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  I am still very busy working on my book, and I am up to Chapter Eighteen now. I am happy to say Marg is well and thriving.

   This flash fiction prompt came up from, “Inspiration Monday,” and I thought it might be a good idea to base my response around some of the characters who feature in my novel.

  • Don Francisco
  • His two sons, Angelo and Giuseppe} ~Twin Brothers
  • Bella ~ their Sister.

I have to point out now, that the two men are not brothers in my novel and Bella is not their sister. However for the purposes of the thrust of my story in response to this prompt, I have used a little poetic license here.

DYNASTIC PRESSURE

by John Yeo

      There were not just ripples of unease spreading throughout  the family. Storm clouds were on the horizon and building up, it seemed a tremendous family storm was brewing and the various strands of the family were coming together for a very crucial meeting.

       Don Francisco held the members of the Vicente family in a grip of steel, his father and his grandfather and their forefathers had kept the family together for generations. In a word he was the Godfather. The leader of a thriving dynasty.

     News of a shocking diagnosis had spread, Don Francisco was dying of cancer and was not expected to survive for very long. Don Francisco had twin sons, one of whom was expected to take control of the family business. Angelo was present at the bedside of his father and Bella their sister was comforting her mother, Maria. Giuseppe was supposedly on the way but there had been no news, then Maria came rushing into the room in a distressed state.

     “Papa, Papa, I have shocking news! Giuseppe is dead, he was killed by a suicide bomber, who blew himself up and killed twelve people. He just happened to be on a train, in the wrong place at the wrong time!”

     Don Francisco went white with shock, speechless with horror. “Leave me please, I want to be alone with my grief.”

     Bella and Angelo withdrew. Bella then turned to Angelo and said. “You will now soon be The Godfather, as Papa is dying and you are next in line. He was about to pass on the title to Giuseppe who was second-in-command, while you were away at university, studying. You will control everything now!”

     “No! That is not possible Bella.” shouted Angelo, “I have been studying to become a priest,  I want nothing more to do with the family business!”

      “Angelo! This will destroy him, you must not tell him, what you have just told me. You must pretend to accept, and allow him to die peacefully. I will secretly take charge, to keep the family dynasty together. You will become a godfather in name only. It will be seen as a sign of weakness if we announce that our family is run by a woman. A godmother, who will be ridiculed and cursed with malice in a male controlled world.”

     “So be it, my sister, for the sake of my father, I will live this lie. How will you manage?”

     “Angelo, I have spent my life close to my father and I have learnt much. I have been involved in missions for my father. I have made many friends, and I expect to get married some day and my fiancée  who will then be my husband will take over with your blessing, my brother. The godfather will arise from within our family and the dynasty will continue unbroken.”

    ‘Thank you Bella, I will love you forever my sister!”

 

Copyright   © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

  • This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “FLOWER GRAFFITI”

Poppies

Image © Copyright John and Margaret

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “FLOWER GRAFFITI”
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FLOWER GRAFFITI

by John Yeo

    Annabelle was a creative, artistic sensitive young woman. At art college she fell heavily in love with Dominic a fellow student who seemed to be on the same wavelength in all things. They became inseparable, and it was certain they would get through the exams together with flying colours.

    They were indeed colourful, extrovert and prepared to go to any lengths to express their natural artistic talents. Dominic would draw lightning sketches of passers-by in the city centre for money, a form of busking that helped to pay the bills. Annabelle also painted and was developing a market for portraits, from among her friends and family.

  Annabelle had a younger brother, Toby, a mischievous youngster who was struggling with his,  A-level exams and running around with a crowd of young daredevils who would stop at nothing to get some thrills from life.

    Toby, like his sister, was also artistic, but sadly he expressed his talent in a different way. Toby was a graffiti artist, specialising in painting on high office blocks and skyscrapers.

   One day the group dared him to paint a huge red poppy on the twenty-seventh floor of a large office block in the city centre. A building that was the headquarters of a major European bank.

“No! I could never do that without the right equipment. I would need a window cleaning cradle and you would all have to be there to manhandle the hoist.”

“We have thought of that, we have a hoist secreted at the back of the building and we are ready to go. Tomorrow is poppy day and your art will make the front page of every national daily paper in the country! You will be famous when the truth comes out.”

 Toby outrightly refused to have anything to do with this plan and later that day he confided in Dominic.

The next morning every newspaper in the country carried banner headlines that described four huge red poppies painted on the fourth floor walls of a major city office block to remember the dead in two world wars.

Dominic, Annabelle and Toby all smiled knowingly at each other, and admired their poppies from below.

Dominic laughed at Toby and said. “Height is not important. In Art it is the statement that counts!”

Copyright  © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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