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HARMLESS

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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

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  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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PHANTOM LIBRARY

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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 

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “ROYALS ON STRIKE”

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Image © Copyright John and Margaret

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “ROYALS ON STRIKE”
Posted on 29th February 2016 by John Yeo
A prompt response for Inspiration  Monday

Inspiration Monday: Royals on Strike

A RIGHT ROYAL TURN-UP

by John Yeo

     “They’re on strike!” Said the PM to the Lord Chancellor, “We will have to go abroad and bring someone in to get the new Canned Beans factory officially opened properly.”

   “Oh God no! What is the problem?” Asked the Lord Chancellor adjusting his wig.

   “Since we have got rid of the Royal Yacht and provided oars for them, they seem to be worn out, even though they only use the canals and there is no tidal motion.”  said the PM. “That reminds me, I have asked the King of Tonga, to launch our new aircraft carrier for us, He has agreed but the consideration into the Tongan economy is immense.”

 “Can’t  we get someone else who will do it cheaper?”  asked the Chancellor of the Exchequer.

  “No! Most of the European monarchs are out on strike in sympathy, with our Royals. The Labour Party are backing them up, there is talk of a General Strike in support of our poor hard done by Royals.” Replied the PM.

    “I have heard that the savings from the withdrawal of the Royal train were rapidly squandered on helicopters. It’s a disgrace, they were actually nipping down to pick their daily papers up by helicopter. A journey of about a mile each way.”  Exclaimed the Chancellor of  The Exchequer.

 “When the government withdrew all state-funded, gas-guzzling limousines from the Royals, there was such an outcry of horror from them. We bought a fleet of brand new cycles! Brand new bikes! They are still untouched I have heard, HM actually requested a motorcycle for the heir to the throne to get about on, but he declined it in favour of the old bike he has ridden in private for years.”  Said the Minister for Transport. “The horses that draw the carriages are getting on a bit now, it would cost a fortune to replace them.”

   “ President Obama is arriving soon on an official visit, I don’t suppose we could negotiate a return to royal duties before then. It would be a shame to lay out the red carpet and the Royals boycott the occasion.” Said the PM.

   Just then a voice broke in from the back of the House. “What about giving the Royals the concessions they are asking for and bringing them back. My Mum would be happy to pay more taxes to fund some appropriate transport for the Royals!”

    There was a shocked silence at this form of blasphemy from within the ranks. “Pay more tax? Are you mad? We are already the most heavily taxed country in the world!”

  Then with a fusillade of shots from a ten gun artillery salute, the cry went up. “It’s all over, the Royal Walkout is finished,  they have come into money.

A Royal windfall on the lottery their numbers have come up.

A Butler has sold Buckingham Palace to a very wealthy Russian he met in Trafalgar Square. An absentee landlord, who has promised to let the royals live in the palace,  rent-free for the rest of the dynasty.

A nephew of HM has become a highly paid professional footballer and has solved the transport problem,

There were cheers and shouts of joy throughout the land. A public holiday was declared, and there were street parties held throughout the length and breadth of the country.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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THE ICE-MAN ARRIVES

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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.

Copyright. © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

 

WEIGHTLESSNESS

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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.

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This week’s photo prompt is provided by Pixabay.com

WEIGHTLESSNESS

by John Yeo

 “Ferdinand, I have to go to Weight-Watchers this morning, I have a weigh-in.  Last week I came out two pounds over my recommended body-weight. I keep telling that gruesome coordinator that I am heavy boned, and the more calcium I ingest the heavier I become. I think I will have to consider some elementary changes to decrease my bone-density. I was far heavier when I wore flesh, l needed a lot of food-intake to keep the whole apparatus alive.”

   “Yes Esmeralda my dear.” Thought Ferdinand, breaking into the interminable flow of thoughts.
   “Have you seen my robes? I will need to cover up if I am to leave the crypt, I am sure they are around somewhere. Last time I wore them was on Halloween night when we went out haunting together. I do resent having to go all the way to a public crypt to a Weight Watchers session. The rattle of all those dangling bones would be unbearable if we had any ears to hear with.”
 “Yes Esmeralda my dear.” Ferdinand replied.

(174 WORDS)

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Daily Prompt on WordPress ~ 2nd JANUARY 2016 ~ NOW

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Write Here, Write Now

Write Here, Write Now
Write a post entirely in the present tense.

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Image from the net ~

NOW

by John Yeo

    I have been consigned to this field by Farmer Jones since yesterday morning. I have to be vigilant in my work which is easy. I just stand here with my arms on utstretched, wearing this silly hat dressed in rags. I don’t like the look of that sky above me, those black clouds have suddenly appeared out of nowhere. I don’t like working in the rain, there was a slight shower yesterday afternoon and the rain was trickling down my clothes. I will hate to be standing here in the thick of a storm with the wind blowing, lightning and thunder crashing, getting soaked by the pouring rain.

    I have to stand here as a deterrent, I try to look fearsome and scary. This is what I do, that is what I have been created to do. Farmer Jones sowed his seed in this field yesterday in the morning, now a whole flock of pigeons are over there, with gulls and rooks gorging themselves on this free food. I am standing here to scare them off, but they are not fooled at all, in fact one bird has just flown off after leaving a horrible white mess on my hat. Under my feet where I stand, there is a whole earthy world of wriggling worms, slimy slugs, spiders, beetles and bugs. I have seen the birds eating masses of these and not touching the seed at all, I hope the farmer doesn’t find out, or I will quickly be out of work.

    Oh! No, please go away you lazy old crow, leave the straw in my body alone. I refuse to become part of your nest. There are two of them now pecking away and stealing my stuffing to breed. Help! Leave me alone. you crazy vermin it’s a good job scarecrows don’t bleed.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.