This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
If salt were a part of the recent trend, Would the salty flavour alter our taste? Would we finish our food to the bitter end? ~ If salt were consumed with a dietary end, Would the real food flavour ever be traced? If salt became a part of the recent trend.
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Without a dash of salt to add to the blend Food seems indigestible, yet hard to waste. Would we finish our food to the bitter end?
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If we faced the bitter truth would it tend, To touch our consciences, sadly debased? If salt were a part of the recent trend.
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Would scientific research be hard to defend
With salty language, sadly misplaced?
Would we finish our food to the bitter end?
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Careless views would be hard to defend Unseasonably salty and badly displaced. If salt were a part of the recent trend, Would we finish our food to the bitter end?
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
The world was on full alert. The media had broadcast warning after warning of an unidentifiable, asteroid-like object; rapidly approaching the Earth. Panic had set in among the leaders of the world’s nations. In spite of many warnings and prophetic utterances of approaching doom. The strange object just got closer and closer and seemed to be on a collision course. The richest nations proposed to strike the object with strategically aimed missiles and blow it to smithereens. The plan was to save as many lives as possible by limiting the collision damage to small pieces. The most powerful telescope lens on Earth was trained on the unidentified object. To the scientist’s great surprise it was a transparent rock with gaseous clouds visible inside. Clouds that seemed to have shifting forms, with some moving independently and some conjoined. This new information arrived too late for any deviation from the damage limitation decision. The leaders had already decided and a barrage of rockets was already on the way Incredibly the massed nuclear rockets were deflected and ricocheted off the surface of the asteroid-like object. Then cracks appeared in the glasslike surface and suddenly the whole asteroid was black and invisible to the human eye.
‘That’s not an asteroid! That’s a spaceship under alien control. We must try to contact the occupants.!’ yelled Professor Stevens to the team in NASA control. ‘Somebody should inform President Jonas, our armaments are useless!’
At that precise moment the power failed, the lights went out and Planet Earth was pitched into a dark void.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
The specialist stepped back looking grave, He frowned and said with a hopeless sigh; ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to be extra brave. This infection has hit hard like a shockwave. We did our utmost to apply and nullify
The viral particles are alive and mutational We used an antidote the symptoms to stave, Your child’s stats show we were right to retry.
The vaccine’s effects are certifiably sensational.
This new drug has helped us save life
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There’s no guarantee but our hopes are high, I’m afraid you’ll have to be extra brave. We waited, breath-baited, tried to believe Praying and beseeching to the cold blue sky.
The speed of the response was inspirational,
Colour slowly appeared with a flickering eye
Shallow breathing quickly became stronger
A slight smile appeared on the thin pale lips
The senses returned in a symphony to health
A revolutionary treatment; certifiably sensational.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
Joey, a hard-bitten, streetwise, London taxi cab driver queued up in a line of cabs waiting for passengers along the rank at Kings Cross station in central London. Joey had a philosophical approach to life, profit was everything.
He was a short, stocky man, with a misshapen nose that was a relic from his school days when he excelled in the boxing ring. His friend Fred was seated in the cab behind and he sidled up for a chat while they waited.
‘Hey Joey! Heard the latest? There’s a group of smart-alecs about. They will hire your cab then give you the runaround.’
At that moment an oriental gentleman opened the cab door and said.
‘Can you take me to Piccadilly Square please?’
Joey’s eyes gleamed when he heard this mispronunciation.
‘Certainly Sir!’
The gentleman climbed into the cab, breathing heavily with the effort.
Joey began his usual flow of disarming conversation and said,
‘Is this your first visit to London Sir?’
The stranger nodded and gazed out of the window at the dense traffic and the slow progress they were making.
Joey continued. ‘What part of the world are you from?’
‘China, I am here to visit my relatives who run a restaurant here. I understand Lord Nelson is commemorated in the square.’
Joey couldn’t quite work this reply out but he didn’t respond and concentrated on the traffic. Finally they reached Piccadilly Circus and Joey pointed out Eros, the fountain. It was surrounded by tourists of all nationalities.
‘Rumour has it that you will meet everyone you have ever known here if you stay long enough.’ said Joey.
At that point another Asian gentleman knocked on the window and Joey said, ‘Sorry, I’m not for hire.’
To his astonishment his passenger excitedly opened the window and began chatting away. They were old friends.
Joey said to his passenger, ‘There’s £125 to pay please.’
The passenger then enquired. ‘Where is the famous column and the statue of Lord Nelson?’
Joey then began to understand. ‘Oh you want to get to Trafalgar Circus, I’ll take you both there for another £125.’
As the sun went down in Central London on another day of ripoffs, misunderstanding and linguistic shenanigans, two TV actors removed their oriental makeup and went to a local pub for a well earned nightcap.
Joey the taxi driver had enjoyed a profitable day indeed. Little did he know his day of reckoning was just around the corner. Somewhere between Piccadilly Circus and Trafalgar Square.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
Farmer Ben Jones had worked as a successful sheep farmer for many years. A short stocky man with a ruddy, weather beaten face that reflected his years of coping with the ups and downs of working as a successful livestock farmer in all weathers.
The farm was located on the hilly terrain of North Wales and subject to extremes of weather conditions from fierce winter winds with driving rain, to beautiful spring sunshine, encouraging fresh green grass where his flock could contentedly graze.
The large flock of sheep with their lambs were expertly controlled by his three well trained, energetic, intelligent border collie, sheepdogs, Meg, Shep and Spot.
His pretty wife Betty, a tiny lady, whose stature didn’t reflect her ingrained toughness, had trained as a vet, before she married Farmer Ben and became a full time farmers wife and a mother to their 15 years old son James.
One day Spot began licking one of his front paws more than usual, whimpering quietly to himself, James came in from the yard having fed the dogs, this was part of his daily routine.
‘Hey Dad! what’s up with Spot? He keeps licking his front paw and he’s not himself.’
‘Farmer Ben looked up and grinned, ‘Well spotted son! You’re learning fast. Your Mum has been looking after him with some of her TLC.’
‘That’s right James, I think he has a slight infection on his foot pad and I’ve plastered it with some of my special lotion.’ said Betty.
James looked slightly puzzled at this and exclaimed! ‘Surely it’s no good if he keeps on licking it away. Is it safe?”
His Dad proudly smiled and said, ‘Don’t worry son. Your Mum knows what she’s doing.’
Betty patted him on the back and said, ‘Good point James, I used a safe lickable lotion that will do no harm to Spot’s insides. I will renew the lotion later and dress his paw overnight so he can’t lick it off again. I didn’t want him to run around for the rest of the day with a bandage on his foot.’
Farmer Ben and James then made a special visit to make a big fuss of Meg and Shep, while Betty was caring for Spot.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
We picked a basketful of sumptuous junipers for jelly,
An ancient remedy for arthritic and rheumatic ailments.
In the Middle Ages, junipers supposedly cured the plague.
Jellied junipers, reputed to be a cure-all for colds and flu, could be a defence against all viruses, old and new.
Jelly made from juniper, a reputed health superfruit, should be prescribed as an added weapon in the ongoing fight, alongside the proven scientific research and experimentation in the armoury to counteract and help to destroy this ongoing blight.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
There were six of us in the party led by the esteemed Professor Williams, Peter Woods, a famous ornithologist, Leyla, and Sadie, with her best friend Betty and myself, Jamie Cook.
We’d been trekking through thick jungle for days, searching for rare new species of wildlife. We pitched our tents alongside an impressive lake with a magnificent waterfall hurtling down into the lake from a rocky incline.
The lake was still at sunset, after the wildfowl and the birdlife had gone to roost. Silence replaced the noisy sounds of the prolific wildlife, vying for food and personal space. Darkness was descending on the shrubs and trees around the banks of the lake as the sun disappeared. Nocturnal wildlife was slowly appearing. Nighthawks spread their wings, calling in the nearby trees as they ventured out on their hunting forays after dark. Bats were fluttering their wings, searching for insects, using echolocation, their powers of ultra-sensitive hearing, for guidance.
‘They seem to be flying from within the waterfall!’ exclaimed Peter Woods. Clouds and clouds of bats were filling the evening skies. ‘There must be a cave in the rocks behind the waterfall. Bats hibernate in caves, they generally stick to water where they like to feed on insects, even fishing them from the surface of pools.’
‘We will certainly explore the waterfall tomorrow morning,’ said the Professor.
The next day dawned with a cacophony of sounds from the jungle dawn chorus. We decided to explore the waterfall immediately.
It was an onerous task for us all, as we climbed the slippery, quite steep, rocky cliffs. We discovered a large aperture in the rock face, partially hidden, somewhat obscured with a thick wall of soaking jungle vegetation. Peter and I, with the help of the Professor, soon hacked a passable entrance to what appeared to be a series of large caves hollowed out of the interior of the rocks.
The amazingly beautiful sight that greeted us will always be indelibly engraved on my mind forever. Illuminated by the light of our torches were thousands of pink and aquamarine-coloured stalactites hanging from the roofs of the caves. Sadie and Betty were soon snapping away images on their mobile phones, Leyla gasped, ‘Forests of wonderful stalactites, fused together they’ve probably been growing here for thousands of years,’
There was a powerful obnoxious smell as the floors were covered in guano, obviously the droppings from the thousands of bats roosting in the gaps between the fused stalactites.
The Professor and his team wrote up their discovery of these incredible fusion forests to great acclaim from the academic world.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
Tom had a story that he wanted to share with the world. His eyes were forever searching the literary terrain, looking for inspiration within the turmoil of his mind. The story began to be formed, moulded and was soon coming together. He fought hard against his own personal harsh critical resistance. Always pushing onwards with a sharp insistence expressing his feelings in an explosion of words. He was always searching for perfection, fighting against a passive resistance. Always honing, rewriting, editing and subtly improving, it seemed publication would be forever postponed. One day he overcame this unexplainable timidity by typing his manuscript online and pressing the send button.
Timid Tom is now well known as his words were read and appreciated by the online community. The moral of this story is if you keep something to yourself it will never reach anyone.
This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’. Which can be found by following the link below..
johnandmargaret1607 