JOHN PLUMMER ~ A WORKHOUSE TALE

Posted on Feb 27, 2016 by John Yeo | 8 Comments

This is one of the stories I put together on a Creative Writing Day at Gressenhall Farm and Workhouse in Norfolk.

OBJECTS AND INMATES

I concentrated on JOHN PLUMMER, Writing from this brief introduction.

“John Plummer decided he wanted to. Become a tramp when he turned 16 in 1938. The Guardians didn’t want John to do this as he would be dependant on the workhouse system. This would cost taxpayers’ money. They found John a job but he ran away. He was brought back to the workhouse and sent to Wallingford Farm Training School.”

JOHN PLUMMER ~ THE INHALER

by John Yeo

I have been forcibly returned here to take part in a training course at Wallingford Farm Training School.

I was on the road for a while before they caught up with me, at least I will be working in the open air. I couldn’t stand working in that bloody factory any more! I ran away. I have developed this chesty cough now and I have to regularly attend the sickbay. The nurse says I have to use this strange china thing whenever I get clogged up with mucus. Apparently it is filled with hot water and I breathe it in before I go to bed at night or in the morning, before I go to work. I slept rough for the time I was on the road and the Matron thinks that is where I became ill, from the damp and cold. I spoke to the Doctor when he visited last.

“What happened to me?” I asked.

“You are a victim of your own stupidity.” Replied the Doctor.

“Me stupid? Never. At least I got free from the chemicals that were swirling around that factory.”

“You will have to continue to use the inhaler morning and night in future. The fresh air working on the farm will do you good. I will see you again in a month.”

I like working outside but I do have this chesty cough that keeps me awake at night, I have to take the inhaler to bed now. The man in the next bed didn’t wake up today. They took him away and he disappeared. I think he died of TB, someone said it is a curse of the age.

It is my birthday next week. I will be seventeen.

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “LOVE AT FIRST FIGHT”

Posted on Feb 27, 2016 by John Yeo | 4 Comments

Image © Copyright John and Margaret

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “LOVE AT FIRST FIGHT”
Posted on February 27th 2016 by John Yeo
A prompt response for Inspiration Monday

Inspiration Monday: Love at First Fight

PLAY YOUR CARDS RIGHT

by John Yeo

The ship had sailed away from Southampton on a long voyage to the Caribbean. I have never experienced this type of holiday before, and I was keen to find a way to pass the time during the interminable days at sea.

“I think I would like to learn Bridge,” I said to the Social Hostess, when I went to collect my copy of the morning crossword puzzle and the quiz. “I have never played the game before and it will be a rewarding way to kill some time while we are at sea.”

“That’s a good idea.” Said, Angela the friendly crew member on duty. “Just turn up and introduce yourself. It doesn’t matter if you are an absolute beginner, the Bridge tutor is friendly and you are certain to fit in.”

“Thanks Angela, I will let you know how I get on.”

I was early, for the Bridge session and I made my way outside on deck to sit and do my crossword. This was definitely wistful thinking as I soon became aware of the gusty winds outside on deck. The ship was miles out at sea and the waves were high rolling, and foam topped. The view on all sides of the ship was exactly the same, broiling grey-blue waves on a moving sea reaching out to a far distant horizon. The cloudy sky was broken by a few patches of blue, revealed by the wind-blown clouds racing across. I was astonished at how few seabirds there were, until one of the crew informed me that the birds were usually seen close to the shore.

The only visible thing was a distant spot on the horizon, I asked my new found friend the crew member. “Is that another passenger ship in the distance?”

“No Sir, that is probably a container vessel, on the way to the docks.”

“However can you know what that is from this distance? I asked.

“Ah! We only usually see cargo vessels on this route, if that was another passenger ship the Captain would have informed everyone over the loudspeakers.”

“Thanks for your help.” I said.

“You are welcome!” Was the friendly response“

I made my way to the card-room where I was full of questions. Would I like this mysterious card game? Would I be able to pick the basics up quickly enough to be able to take part in a serious game? The Bridge tutor bustled up to me as soon as I entered, a friendly looking, middle aged lady with piercing brown eyes, looking over a pair of brown plastic spectacles, smiling broadly she said.

“Good Morning, and welcome have you played this game before? I’m Cheryl and this is my husband Bill. What is your name?”

I was overwhelmed with the warmth of this friendly greeting, and as Bill shook my hand, I replied. “I’m John, and No! I am an absolute beginner. I would like to learn the basics to enable me to play when I return home.”

“Of course John, welcome!” Said Bill, “You have come to the right place, luckily we have three people here who are looking for someone to make up a four, let me introduce you to Jen and Lew, and their travelling companion May.”

I shook hands with Lew, a tall portly man, with a bald head and a friendly manner.

Jen responded with a welcoming smile and said, “Sit down, John.” I liked Jen instantly, her dark hair and very brown eyes gave her an open but wary look.

I smiled and nodded as I took a seat at the table, opposite May. “I’m sorry to say that I am a total beginner, I have never played this game before.”

Lew responded and said, “Don’t worry Jen and I have played a little before, but May is learning, you are welcome to join us.”

Cheryl bustled up towards our table and said. “May I suggest that you play men against ladies that will put one absolute beginner, up against another, together with one of the more experienced players?”

I found myself paired up with Lew against Jen and May. Then total card war broke out as the game began. Closely followed and supervised by the two tutors, Cheryl and Bill. I have never experienced a card battle like this before. I found myself getting exasperated looks from Lew as I bidded wrongly and made many amateurish errors. I could see May was getting by, but she was also overcome by the tension of this fight to the finish.

The ladies won hands down, and Lew was rather peeved, I could see it in his demeanour.

I found myself warming to May, her total genuine attitude, her bright blue eyes and blonde hair, and her smiling personality. We arranged to meet later for tea.

Drinking Camomile tea in the cafe and discussing the philosophy of non-verbal communication, we rapidly fell head over heels in love at first fight.

We never played Bridge again!

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PICTURE IT AND WRITE ~ AUTHENTIC ARGUMENT

Posted on Feb 24, 2016 by John Yeo | 1 Comment

This is a latest Picture it and Write prompt from Emilia’s blog ~23rd February

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com

As usual the image is supplied and credited by Emilia

Today I thought I would combine my blog Post with an exercise in Writing Practice from here

h ttp://thewritepractice.com/conditional-sentences

Conditional Sentences

“A conditional sentence is a sentence that describes a hypothetical situation, like an action or event, and the result of that situation.

Confused? Here’s an easy way to think about it: a conditional sentence can usually use the words “if” and “then.”

Here’s an example: from me based on my Prompt response to follow

IF modern makeup is used in a Shakespeare play, THEN it can’t be called an authentic performance.

AUTHENTIC ARGUMENT

by John Yeo

A letter received by a would-be Hamlet.

THE AUTHENTIC SHAKESPEARE COMPANY

Stratford-Upon-Avon.

Dear Sir.

We are pleased to inform you that your application to play Hamlet in our current production has been successful. In view of your extensive past experience of playing this role, and the excellent performance you treated us to at the interview. Please report to the director at the theatre next Wednesday morning, where you will meet the rest of the cast.

Yours faithfully,

Wednesday at the Authentic theatre

“Hello Luvvies, wonderful to meet you all, I am here to replace your leading man, I hear he is not very well, I’m sorry to hear that. I’m William! I understand if we have a successful informal rehearsal first, then we can have a full dress rehearsal this afternoon.”

“That’s right William, Grab a stool and start following the lines when we begin, you were very impressive during the interview, everyone was amazed at the way you read your lines from memory.”

Later in the pub, the talk is all about the wonderful, trouble free rehearsal of the morning and the full dress rehearsal to follow, this afternoon.

“William have another good home brewed stout! Sorry they don’t serve sack here, perhaps if we ask them to order some especially for you, then you can enjoy it while you are working here!”

“Fine thanks! I won’t have another drink now. If I drink too much then I will be heady this afternoon.” Replied William.

Back at the theatre, William is shown to the star’s dressing room. “Here are your costumes they are made to an authentic Elizabethan design. Good job you are the same build as our previous leading man. The makeup artiste will be along shortly.”

“WHAT! I was under the impression this was an authentic production. Shakespeare would never have applied modern day makeup. I am not a circus clown man! I would like to see the Director.” Shouted William irritably. “Get him at once!”

“Yes Sir!” Said the stage hand.

The Director arrived and was stunned to hear about this turn of events.

William shouted at him, before he could open his mouth. “IF I am expected to have this muck applied to my face, THEN I refuse to play the part.

I will refer this non-authenticity to the trades description department of the Lord Chancellor’s Office.

mason-jar-makeup

SHELTER

Posted on Feb 21, 2016 by John Yeo | 5 Comments

This is a piece of FLASH FICTION based on this photograph that was taken on a walk we enjoyed in Sheringham Park

Image © Copyright ~ John and Margaret

SHELTER

by John Yeo

The nights draw in fast around here, I had planned to go further into the forest, the darkness descended so fast. I was on an extraordinary trek through this green woody forest with my camping equipment and a metal detector. I was following a foggy, cloudy, series of clues that would enable me to uncover some fabled Iceni artefacts, from the time the legendary Queen Boudicca walked this land. Suddenly as the darkness enveloped everywhere, the trail became obscured, I tripped over a fallen branch and fell heavily to the ground. I tried to get up, but my ankle had twisted, I could feel pain that sent me crashing to the ground again. I reached for my mobile telephone, but there was no signal, and the charge was very low.

I was unable to put the tent up, I crawled along the trail in the darkness for a few yards until I came across a natural shelter. An arbor of branches that formed a makeshift roof, much like a natural woody cave. I crawled inside and soon the energy-sapping result of my efforts became apparent and I suddenly fell into a deep sleep. Then it rained, first a drizzle, then a more persistent shower followed by a crash of thunder. I woke to find the drips penetrating my little arbor and running down my face. Suddenly I froze as I could hear the sounds of panting breath and whimpering sounds from the low growing branches at the side of my arbor. I held my breath as I could sense danger, when a low warning growl informed me that I was not alone. I knew I was unable to move very quickly so I remained as still as possible, I was absolutely at the mercy of whatever was sharing my arbor.

The storm passed over and I could hear movement at the back of my shelter. I lay still, and to my surprise a Muntjac deer suddenly bolted for the gap, as a family of foxes left by a small gap at the back of the shelter.

When morning broke, I crawled outside and found my rucksack, lying just where I had left it by the trail. I found some matches and lit a fire trying to attract attention. Within an hour I was rescued and taken to hospital by an air ambulance.

There is a level of unknown communication between all forms of life. We are in this thing together, until hunger drives us apart to kill for food.

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “DIURNAL DREAM”

Posted on Feb 20, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

Image © Copyright ~ John and Margaret

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “DIURNAL DREAM”
Posted on February 20th, 2016 by John Yeo
A prompt response for Inspiration Monday

http://bekindrewrite.com/2016/02/08/inspiration-monday-quiet-light/

DIURNAL DREAM

by John Yeo

“I tell you we all do it! All we have to do is keep straight faces. Try not to laugh out loud will you, they will never understand. I will put the ideas together that you provide, and take the credit, yet we both know they are your ideas, not mine or perhaps they are a mixture of both.”

This was expressed by the visible side. The aspect that was responsible for the germination expression and growth of the ideas generated by the combined power of both sides of the equation that was very briefly present for a few microseconds at dawn, and a few microseconds at dusk.

“OK! If the nocturnal variation stays within the parameters of the night our diurnal dreams can be continued throughout the night. The nocturnal part of an idea is just an ongoing variation, the end result of a diurnal dream continuing throughout the period when the physical side is prone, asleep and inactive.”

The visible ongoing diurnal aspect of the double equation pointed out.

“There is an aspect of this coming together. The ultimate coming together to bring the two aspects of a dream into a single entity, that is largely unnoticed and usually ignored and this is the period of diurnal dreaming that takes place when both sides are incredibly bored. Take the average mind wandering away from a droning vocal rendition of obvious facts that are getting relayed and replayed continuously. As in the following…”

DIURNAL DREAMING

by John Yeo

The lecture was long and intricately constructed,

Of facts that had been stitched together again.

In a cycle of repetition to set the mind drifting

Looking out the window at the pouring rain.

I like the look of the flaxen haired girl on a cycle,

I believe there is life on the other side.

Would you believe if the world was two sided

Dreams could be split in two.

~

The culmination of the interpretation, is that

Dreams are an ongoing fantastical spread,

Of nocturnal desire flooding diurnal dreams

With ideas that could never be shattered.

That girl with the flaxen hair has become

A part of my personal individual stream

In a world that is very well grounded

She is now a part of a diurnal dream.

Copyright. © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

THE ICE-MAN ARRIVES

Posted on Feb 8, 2016 by John Yeo | 6 Comments

This is a piece of FLASH FICTION based on this photograph that was taken on a holiday we enjoyed some years ago.

Image © Copyright ~ John and Margaret

THE TOWER OF BABEL

by John Yeo

Pedro was a sculptor, he worked in a medium that was ephemeral, short-lived very hard to control in the fluidity that was its natural state. Pedro was an ice-man, a man who could turn a block of ice into something wonderful. Anything that was requested could be done. Then one day he was asked to produce a magical sculpture on the lines of the biblical description of the Tower of Babel. Pedro got to work and within three hours a stunning work of art replaced the ordinary square block of ice that had confronted him. Pedro stepped back to admire his work before it was taken away to be used as a backdrop and a conversation piece in the showy lounge on a cruise liner.

Life was lived by the passengers of this luxury liner as if there was no tomorrow, every possible novelty or delicate treat was available for the enjoyment of these privileged men and women. The ice sculpture seemed just another object to be admired and then summarily ignored, dismissed from the conscious mind. A decorative novelty that stood in the centre of the lounge and dripped drops of liquid into the tray it was standing on.

Pedro noted the ignorance that his laborious artefact generated and decided to act, he poured a large glass of vodka in the tray. He called a portly passenger to one side and whispered,

“Don’t tell anyone, the ice is not frozen water but frozen vodka, here taste the drips in the tray!”

“Oh! Wow! So it is!” Hey Mabel come and have a look here. A Babble of Booze. The tower is pure frozen vodka.”

Mabel squealed with delight as she dipped her finger in the tray. “Hey everyone! The Tower of Babel is a tower of Booze. Soon crowds gathered to admire this wonderful work of art, and examine the intricate tiny figures as they slowly dripped away.

People were soon taking notice and there was a babble of sounds of admiration, at the intricate carving and the detail that made up the work that was rapidly melting away.

“Is it really frozen vodka?” Asked an elderly gentleman.

“Yes” said Mabel, “Taste the drips in the tray!”

“Hey! What a great idea.” He shouted. “What a brilliant piece of work. Look at the detail in these tiny figures before they melt away! Where is the sculptor who created this? I want to meet him.”

Pedro stepped forward. The elderly gentleman then said to him. “You are a very talented sculptor. I would like you to reproduce this carving in marble. I will pay you very well and employ you to continue to work for me. What do you say?”

Pedro agreed instantly, as the half-melted ice carving was wheeled away to the galley below.

The moral of this icy work of flash fiction, is never let your creativity get ignored.

PICTURE IT AND WRITE ~ WISDOM AND DIET

Posted on Jan 27, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

This is a latest Picture it and Write prompt from Emilia’s blog ~20th January 201https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2016/01/20/picture-it-write-83/

sardines

As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia

WISDOM AND DIET

by John Yeo

The wise man was a scholar of wide renown, he had written many books in his short life and had a high intelligence. It was said that his last lecture before he sadly passed away, contained many secrets of how he maintained his robust health and his extraordinary brain-power. The wise man swore by the hidden properties in his diet.

“Fresh fruit and vegetables contain many micro nutrients to keep us healthy and wise. I am a firm believer in the effects of eating large quantities of oily fish to gain the benefits of the amazing properties of Omega 3 fish oils. I eat a lot of oily fish. Sardines and Mackerel cooked in many delicious ways. I can eat ten to fifteen Sardines in a single sitting. I believe that the accumulation of these oils and the micro nutrients will allow us to live longer and become more intelligent!”

Six black horses, with black plumes pulled a black carriage to the church as the wise man went to his grave, with all due pomp and circumstance. Many people attended the funeral of this man who was respected around the world for his insight and judgement.

Among the mourners along the roadside were a venerable retired couple, Jack and Lil, who had come to pay their respects. As the cortège passed them, Lil turned to Jack with a tear in her eye and asked, “How did he die?”

Jack wiped away a tear and replied “He choked on a fish bone.”

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “PORTABLE NIGHT”

Posted on Jan 27, 2016 by John Yeo | 3 Comments

A prompt response for Inspiration Monday

http://bekindrewrite.com

A prompt response for Inspiration Monday: “Portable Night”

PORTABLE NIGHT

by John Yeo

“Mummy, you really mean we are going to see Aunty Sheila and my cousins down there!” Exclaimed Ruthie, pointing to the toy globe, and spinning it around. “How will we get from here to there?” she asked.

“Yes darling, we will be going by aeroplane of course, flying from one side of the world to another.” replied her Mum.

“Mummy, Daddy says they are all upside down over there. Our daytime is their night. how will we sleep?”

“We will adjust Ruthie, we will have to try to sleep in our daytime here and their night-time there!”

“What about the bogeymen that only come out at night? Will they be around in the daytime there?” asked Ruthie

“Ahh! That’s a difficult question darling, bogeymen come in all shapes and sizes, even here at home we have nasty bogeymen that are about in the daytime!”

“Mummy, stop it! I know when you are joking, you always smile and crinkle your eyes up.”

“Yes Ruthie, now go to sleep! We have a long journey tomorrow.”

The next day the family took their seats on a Qantas Airbus and were soon tucking into some tempting airline food, Ruthie was very excited. “Daddy what time is it there now?”

“About 9 o’clock at night, they are about 10 hours in front of us over there. You would be in bed there now.”

Soon the friendly aircrew came around to make sure everybody was comfortable, and asked for all the windows to be blacked out. Ruthie was curious about this as the sun was shining and it was still daytime outside. “Mummy why is everybody sleeping in the middle of the day?”

“Shush darling, people are sleeping, we have to try to sleep now, to catch up with the time where we’re going. The curtains turn our day into a portable night, so we can reset our body-clocks.”

“Daddy, Where is my body-clock?”

“Shush please!” Came an irate voice from an elderly gentleman in the row behind. “People are trying to sleep. Please be quiet, or I will call the steward!”

“Mummy, is that what you mean by a day-time bogeyman”

“Hush Ruthie!” Said her Mother suppressing a broad grin.

inmonsterbadge1

Inspiration Monday

Find more Prompts here ~

http://bekindrewrite.com

FRIDAY NIGHT

Posted on Jan 17, 2016 by John Yeo | 13 Comments

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers ~ Writing challenge.

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com

Hosted by Priceless Joy.

The goal is to write a story between 100-150 words (give or take 25 words) based on the provided photo.

FRIDAY NIGHT

by John Yeo

Bill entered the bar and spat on the wooden floor. A gooey green mess landed at the feet of a woman, seated at a wooden table. The heavy makeup she wore hid the hard, world-weary face. Bill, adjusted his trousers, balanced on an ample waistline. Lank, greasy black hair hung beneath a grubby hat.
“What the heck? You dirty, lousy, good for nothing!” Lucy spat right back into his bleary red-rimmed, black eyes.
Bill took a wild swing, with his right hand, a sledgehammer of a fist missed by a mile. He cursed loudly, then doubled up in pain as Lucy kicked him square in the groin.
A nasty shouting and screaming row developed. Bill wildly attempted to grab a fist full of Lucy’s long brown hair as her sharp, finger-nails gouged tracks across his already scarred face.
The bar swiftly emptied as the police arrived, to end this public dispute.
Bill’s final words to Lucy were “Where’s my dinner?” The couple walked off arm-in-arm.
“Happens every Friday night!” said the barman to the policeman.

(174 WORDS)

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Daily Prompt on WordPress ~ 10th JANUARY 2016 ~ THE INDIGESTIBLE RETURN

Posted on Jan 11, 2016 by John Yeo | 1 Comment

Modern Families

Daily prompt on WordPress ~ Sunday 10th January 2015

Modern Families

If one of your late ancestors were to come back from the dead and join you for dinner, what things about your family would this person find the most shocking?

THE INDIGESTIBLE RETURN

by John Yeo

I would imagine if my Great-Great-Grandmother was resurrected and came to dinner, she would be shocked at the speed with which the food was prepared. The quality and the quantity of the food that was presented and the cleanliness and the labour-saving gadgets. Granny would be amazed at the way the children were continually buried in their iPhones and electronic gadgets, she would be shocked at the lack of table manners and polite conversation. Most of all, I think the adorable Granny would be devastated, to see a television beaming programmes during the meal and the level of violence portrayed in front of the children. She may even arrive in time to share a TV dinner and be amazed to see the family not sitting around the dinner table.

The venerable old lady would probably die another death for a second time, if she discovered the levels of degeneration society had sunk to, through viewing certain social media sites and pages.

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