WHISTLE CODE

Posted on Jul 11, 2016 by John Yeo | 7 Comments

A prompt response for ~Inspiration Monday: Whistle Code

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Images © Copyright ~ John And Margaret

WHISTLE CODE

by John Yeo

Pinto was a farmer, he grew fruit and vegetables in a fertile valley on the island of Vesta. Hidden among a group of larger islands in the Caribbean Sea, not many visitors arrived to break the monotony of the hard, day-to-day fight for survival. Steep rocky mountains engulfed the island, sheltering fertile valleys, where a hardy people who had lived and survived on the rocky, isolated, island, for centuries, scraped a living by exporting their produce to the mainland.

Communication between neighbouring valleys was almost impossible before the dawn of the electronic age; to drive on the steep, rough and ready roads, from one valley to another could take a whole day.

A whistling language developed over the years, from one valley to another, sharp, long and short, drawn-out whistles, would warn the people of danger or impending changes in the erratic winter weather conditions.

The council of the island decreed that all the island’s children must be taught to communicate by whistling to keep this valuable ancient form of communication going.

Pinto’s eldest son Paulo, resented this but reluctantly did as he was told and absorbed the skills.

Mr. Zen, the whistling schoolteacher would drum the calls of alarm into the children….

“Two long whistles and one short for an urgent request for help. One continuous long drawn out whistle for a helicopter rescue. Three short sharp whistles for a threatening stranger.”

One memorable day, Paulo was working hard in the rock-strewn fields, when he vaguely heard an unusual whistle message from the neighbouring valley. It took a while for the realization that someone was in trouble to sink in, and he was quickly on the radio to the authorities who dispatched two helicopters immediately.

“It looks like someone is lying prone at the bottom of that ravine there!” shouted the pilot to the two paramedics. “The police helicopter is landing on a flat space a mile away, leaving that flat area clear for us!” The helicopter landed to find a young girl in a state of shock, frantically whistling the well-taught distress call.

“Don’t move, just tell us what happened?” enquired one of the medics.

“I came here with my boyfriend, but he tried to rape me: When I resisted he pushed me off the rock above and I landed here. My leg hurts, and I think I have twisted my neck.” the distraught young girl blurted out.

“Lie still now, the police will catch up with him. I will have to take you to the hospital on the mainland, we will just lift you gently on to the stretcher and we will be off.”

The police were informed of the situation by radio, and the other helicopter arrested a suspect, who was later charged with assault.

Paulo was soon commended for his swift response to the distress whistle.

He related the whole thing to Pinto, his Dad, and they both agreed that the whistle code was a very valuable language to pass on, and keep alive.

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LIGHTS OUT

Posted on Jul 9, 2016 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

A Prompt Response for Flasher Friday

http://ourwriteside.com/category/prompts/friday-fiction/

Ice Trucker

Images from the net

dance floor

LIGHTS OUT

By John Yeo

Visiting hours strictly between 2pm and 4pm

Sandy switched gears and climbed a slight incline, the snowy terrain was rough and stretched for miles with the edges of the forest in the near distance. The wind was howling as the truck sped along when a blustery gust picked up some loose particles from a bank of snow at the side of the track. At that moment a shadowy figure loomed up in front of the truck, Sandy never hesitated jumping hard on the brakes and clutch, forcing the truck to slide into a long skid, narrowly avoiding a large elk that was ambling along the road. The truck skidded forward, and came to a halt as Sandy re-assumed control; then the radio burst into life,

“Base here, come in 45. Base to 45, over, are you there Sandy?”

“Yup! What is it?”

“How long before you get here?” Came the tinny voice of the controller.

“About 45 minutes,” Sandy replied.

“Good! We will all meet up at the usual Saturday evening place!”

“OK!” Sandy replied grinning from ear to ear. “I’m looking forward to that!”

Please ring the bell to alert the staff before entering.

Sandy parked the truck in a lot and went to her home to change to go to the Saturday night dance.

Sandy looked stunning in a full-length blue gown with a turquoise necklace and earrings to match.

Heading for the cloakroom when she reached the bright lights of the dance hall, she suddenly realized she had picked up the wrong bag. The cloakroom attendant came to her rescue with the loan of a hairbrush.

Just then the orchestra began playing a quickstep and the dance floor filled with dancers, a big man, wearing a smart black suit with a red bow tie approached her and asked for a dance. Sandy smiled and got up, and soon they were moving around the dance floor in time to the music.

“I’m Joe! Pleased to meet you, I’m new here. What’s your name?”

“My name’s Sandy, nice to meet you too. You are light on your feet, are you a professional dancer?”

Whirling around the floor without a care in the world, both partners were soon overcome by the seductive dance music and with each other. A foxtrot followed a waltz, and Sandy was soon entranced by the magic of the moment.

A little later Joe, suddenly left Sandy on the dance floor and wrestled a man to the floor.

“He was stealing your bag, Sandy,” handing her a large cloth bag he had retrieved.

“Thanks, Joe, it’s only a bag of wool, I bought the wrong bag out!”

Grandma clutched her knitting needles and sat in the corner of the lounge Dreamily watching television, Strictly Come Dancing, and an episode of Ice Truckers was vying for her attention before the nurse came in with her afternoon tea.

Lights out at exactly 9pm.

(486 WORDS)

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

This is my response to a prompt from Our Write Side to their Friday Flasher prompt. A short story in no more than 500 Words using four elements

Place: on a dance floor
Character: an ice trucker
Object: a bag of wool
Weather: blustery

Follow this link To comment: Join in and have fun

http://ourwriteside.com/friday-flasher-dance-floor/

Friday Flasher

PATSY

Posted on Jul 4, 2016 by John Yeo | 3 Comments

A Prompt Response for Flasher Friday

http://ourwriteside.com/category/prompts/friday-fiction/

Free Image from Pixabay

PATSY

By John Yeo

It was winter, just after the blizzard in early January 1999, there was still a lot of snow around, the emergency services were busy, responding to rescue calls.

Angelo Cini, a rough, tough gang boss, had been planning this latest bank robbery for months now until the snowstorm struck and held things up. The Midwestern bank on Main Street was located between a diner on one side and a dry cleaner on the other side.

The gang had a series of meetings in the diner where Patsy, a very pretty waitress looked after them and became so friendly with the gang members that she was accepted as part of the team.

Everyone had been well versed in their roles, Angelo, briefly went through the final details.

“We take over the dry cleaner’s shop, hold the Manager and his family in the flat above, break through the dividing walls from the dry cleaner’s cellar into the bank vaults, where we blow the safe and leave with the cash. I have arranged for a couple of horse-drawn sleighs to be waiting outside. I think this will be the easiest form of travel at the moment. Any questions?”

Billy interjected. “Just one Boss, where will we meet to divide the spoils?”

“Ah yes!” Angelo replied: “The sleighs will head North where we have hired a remote cabin. I have included the address and details of how to get there in the envelopes in front of each of you. After the raid, we will separate and meet up there. OK!”

Billy nodded, then sat cleaning his fingernails with a small bent paperclip.

There was a general murmur of assent from everyone present and the meeting closed.

Later that night, the gang members imprisoned the dry cleaner and his family and the raid was underway.

Billy switched off the hammer drill and took a breather from drilling. A short, well-built, man he turned to his partner in crime and said, “This is hard work, my blisters are forming blisters of their own.”

Dan, 6 foot 2 inches tall, a ladies man with his long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, grinned at that remark. “ Hopefully, we’ll get through soon Bill, I can’t wait to get my hands on my share of the loot. I fancy Patsy the waitress in the diner, will come away with me after this job.”

Dan took a few hefty swings at the wall and they were through the dividing wall into the vaults, then Billy set explosive charges and the safe door was swinging open.

There was a moment of exhilaration, as piles of cash were swiftly transferred to sacks and passed back into the dry cleaner.

Suddenly as the sacks were loaded onto the sleighs, two police helicopters lit the whole scene up from above and mounted police moved in to arrest everyone in sight.

Detective Sergeant Patsy O’Rourke highly commended for her undercover work, went on to become one of the greatest detectives of all time.

(498 WORDS)

This is my response to a prompt from Our Write Side to their Friday Flasher prompt. A short story in no more than 500 Words using four elements

Place: a dry cleaner
Character: a diner waitress
Object: a small paperclip
Time/Date: winter, 1999

Follow this link To comment: Join in and have fun

http://ourwriteside.com/friday-flasher-dry-cleaner/

Friday Flasher

SHOPPING MALL

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

A Prompt Response for Flasher Friday

http://ourwriteside.com/category/prompts/friday-fiction/

Image © Copyright John and Margaret

SHOPPING MALL

By John Yeo

Saturday night, the stores in the mall put the shutters up for the night. The last shoppers made their way to the exits, joined by the last of the mall staff. The night security staff arrived and manned the CCTV cameras continuously filming the whole of the shopping area. Joe and Pete were night security men who did regular foot patrols outside the mall.

The Saturday midnight patrol was always eventful, many a time they came across drunks arguing with each other or young lovers canoodling in the rear doorways and entrances to the mall. This Saturday was different, one Joe would remember for the rest of his life. The two men came upon, what looked like a bundle of rags heaped in a shop doorway.

Pete, a large stocky man with a shaved head, and a tattoo on his right cheek noticed it first.

“Hey Joe, look at that! someone has dumped a heap of rags in the doorway. No, wait, it’s moving, someone is asleep under there. We will have to wake them up, we aren’t allowed to let people sleep on the mall property.”

“You’re right Pete, I will just shake the bundle with my foot, to get a response!” Then without thinking he kicked the edges of the rags gently. Joe was the shorter of the two men with dark, greasy hair, he was the most aggressive of the two.

Both men stepped back, extremely wary, as the bundle of rags came to life with a squeal and a thin, unkempt woman, began furiously attacking them with a tatty umbrella.

“Please leave me alone you ignorant sex-starved animals, I have no money and I am afflicted with an STD, that will infect you instantly.” The lady screamed.

“Now hold on,” said Pete. “What are you doing here? You can’t sleep here, you should go home and sleep! We are security officers, doing our job. What’s your name?”

“Mary,” said the lady, now noticeably calmer. “I have tried all the night shelters and hostels, even the Salvation Army hostel is full. I knocked and the duty security man just said,

“Sorry we have a full-house, there are no beds available.”

Joe said, “You can’t sleep here, it is more than our jobs are worth to allow that!”

Mary started sobbing uncontrollably. The two men were both taken aback at this turn of events.

Pete turned to Joe and said, “We may be jobsworths, but we are not made of concrete.” Then he turned to Mary and said, “Come and have a cup of tea with us, we have a storeroom you can use, for tonight!”

Photographs Mary carried, revealed she was Maria Popova a famous ballerina who had been missing for weeks. Joe gained her confidence and informed the authorities. It turned out Maria had suffered memory loss, becoming isolated from her family.

Joe and Pete became her personal security guards, both men were substantially better off for their kindness to a stranger in distress.

(498 WORDS)

This is my response to a prompt from Our Write Side to their Friday Flasher prompt. A short story in no more than 500 Words using four elements

Place: a shopping mall
Character: a ballerina
Object: a full house
Mood: wary

Follow this link To comment: Join in and have fun

http://ourwriteside.com/friday-flasher-shopping-mall/

Friday Flasher

CHEAP AT HALF THE PRICE

Posted on Jun 26, 2016 by John Yeo | 1 Comment

A Coldly Calculating: Prompt for Our Write Side~”Cheap at Half the Price”

Write a story 700 words or less answering the challenge.

http://ourwriteside.com/coldly-calculating/

CHEAP AT HALF THE PRICE

by John Yeo

Cecil Wharton, held his audience spellbound with a smooth flow of well-rehearsed patter.

“Hi, everyone! The drinks are on me! Business is booming! Sales have gone through the roof. Our products are beginning to be recognised everywhere. Step forward and enjoy a glass of this fabulous tonic and cure-all. We guarantee you will not only feel better physically, your bank balance will swell. Join our successful team, we will show you the way to enhance both your health and your bank balance.”

These encouraging words were inwardly digested by Coral and Doris; both married with young families, this was a situation neither of the two friends had ever experienced before. Immersed in a world of friendliness and positivity, they were introduced to some high-powered successful people and made to feel special. Doris and Coral were fired up, excited, they soon signed up to become entrepreneurs, with this successful company. They began to start taking orders from their friends and acquaintances. Business soon boomed, with an impressive turnover, although there was a negative reaction from several customers regarding the beneficial effect and the complaint that prices were too high.

Coral’s Aunt Bessie, was very vocal in her unhappiness with the price, and flatly refused to have anything to do with this elixir.

Coral was an attractive young lady who made friends easily and was soon successfully selling high levels of the product. Coral was invited to five-star hotels to attend conferences and introduced to many successful employees.

One fateful day, Coral was attending a sales meeting at a venue, not far from Aunt Bessie’s home, and she called in to see her unexpectedly.

“Hello! Aunt, I am working nearby and I thought I would drop in and visit, to see how you are getting along.” Coral said; smiling, as she hugged her Aunt.

“I’m fine Coral, except for my aches and pains, this arthritis is always painful and I can’t seem to shift it whatever I do.”

“Aunt Bessie! I know you won’t believe me but I have just the thing for your painful arthritis, we have a new product that will ease your pains.”

“Now Coral, you know I can’t afford the high prices your firm charges for their products and I don’t believe in them anyway!”

“Aunt Bessie: I insist, I want you to try this elixir. I will pay the cost and you will feel tons better. Here take these two Bottles, follow the directions and I am sure you will ask for more as you begin to feel the effects of a pain-free life. Just take one tablespoonful a day.

The afternoon passed swiftly before Coral had to leave to get back to the conference.

“Goodbye, Auntie Bessie! Let me know how you are getting along with the elixir, OK!”

“Goodbye, Coral, I’ll give it a try, if it gets rid of these horrible pains it will be cheap at half the price!”

Coral was in New York, when she heard the news, the firm she had been employed by was wound up, due to a number of unexplained deaths linked to their products. The Managing Director was facing charges of criminal negligence.

Horrified, Coral boarded an aeroplane and was soon knocking hard on the door to Aunt Bessie’s home. A neighbour asked if she could help.

Coral nervously said, “Yes I am trying to contact my Aunt Bessie.”

“I know where she is darling, always so kind and good-hearted, several of them went at the same time, all ladies of the church!”

“Where?” Screamed Coral! Now very nervous and upset. “What happened? When?”

“Don’t worry love, she’s fine, they all went on a church pilgrimage, I can give you a contact number if you like,” said the neighbour.

“Yes, please! it is very important, I need to speak to her!”

A few minutes later Coral shakily dialed the number and got through to her Aunt Bessie. “Auntie, you remember that elixir I gave you, please stop taking it. I will explain fully when I see you! Don’t take any more at all!”

“Oh! Don’t worry darling, I flushed it all down the toilet. I don’t trust things that I don’t know anything about.

Coldly-Calculating-Featured-Image

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DISTRESS CALL

Posted on Jun 18, 2016 by John Yeo | 5 Comments

A Prompt Response for Flasher Friday

http://ourwriteside.com/friday-flasher-seat/

SAM_4957

DISTRESS CALL

By John Yeo

I woke with a screwed-up face, distorted at the intrusive sound of my cell phone, jangling urgently, aggravatingly, to grab my attention. The digits on the phone registered 11.30pm!

“Hi, Carl here! What”s up?”

“Hello is that the 24/7, TV repair service?”

I cursed inwardly. ‘Why the heck did I advertise a 24-hour service? That was Mary’s dumb fool idea. You will make a fortune in call-out charges, she had said.’
“Yes, Carl here! How can I help?”

“The TV has just packed up during an important newscast! We need to get the thing working again, to be able to find out news of flash floods in our area, our houseboat is moored by the river?” An agitated male voice was on the line.

“Hold on!” I replied. “Are you sure you want me to come and fix it at this time of the night? I have to inform you our callout charges are high, and I may not have the parts on the van. I will need to know the make of your TV now, and what exactly happened when your TV stopped working.”

“Oh, I don’t care about the cost! Just come and fix it, I will pay you well. The TV stopped, just like that!”

“Whereabouts exactly are you?” I asked, sighing inwardly.

“The Moorings opposite, 37 Canal Street.”

“OK! I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.” I said, dragging myself out of bed, throwing on my overalls and heading for the door. The wind was blowing a force nine gale with driving rain, I cursed as I jumped in my van and headed for the canal. As I reached number 37, I saw a figure on the dark towpath ahead, outside a long, well lit up houseboat, waiting. The man was thickset, well-built, with a shock of red hair.
“Hi!” I said, “TV repairman?”

“Yeah! Come aboard. The TV just stopped working, I dunno what happened, but we need it urgently as it is the only way we can keep informed.”

As I entered the lounge on the houseboat I almost tripped over a pair of what looked like human legs sticking out from behind a long seat. Ignoring the implications of this I started to work on the TV set, and simply put in a new fuse, then switched it on, it was working perfectly.

“That’ll be £150 pounds please?” I said, nervously pondering on the strange pair of legs that were clearly visible under the seat.

Suddenly they moved as a tall blonde young lady, wearing nothing but a life jacket, leaped out from behind the seat. “How much?” she asked in a shocked voice.
I recognised her instantly as a well-known celebrity, married to a clergyman.

“Don’t worry Darling!” exclaimed the man and peeled the money from a wad of notes, handing it to me. “ Keep quiet about who you have seen here. OK, fella!”

I took the money And left without a word.
(495 WORDS)

Copyright Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

This is my response to a prompt from Our Write Side to their Friday Flasher prompt. A short story in no more than 500 Words using four elements

A TV repairman (Character)
Under a Seat (Place)
Night (Time)
Life Jacket (Object)

Follow this link To comment, Join in and have fun

Friday Flasher

http://ourwriteside.com/friday-flasher-seat/

DOUBLE VELVET

Posted on Jun 7, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

Smooth
Daily Prompt on WordPress ~ 5th June 2016 ~ DOUBLE VELVET

Prompt for the day on WORDPRESS ~ ‘SMOOTH’

The Daily Post

DOUBLE VELVET

by John Yeo

Robin was leaning against the bar, relating his meeting and his experience, with Mellita Mann a well known rising star of film and television.

“Self assured and sophisticated, a social siren. Queen of all she surveyed, I tell you this is so unlike her.”

Raving madly about the lady he had bumped into in his local supermarket, Robin sounded, shocked, surprised and visibly shaken.

“Her hair was in curlers, she had no makeup on, and she was rude, pushy and rude. I would never have believed it, if I hadn’t seen it myself! She actually stole something, picked it up from the shelf and put it right into her pocket!” Robin went on.

“I have seen her acting on television, I feel as if I know her intimately. There she was looking like a scruffy scarecrow, stealing from the supermarket. I called out loudly, ‘Stop thief!’ Then I was manhandled and pushed away by this Gorilla of a man, who swore at me several times and told me to get lost. The police then arrived, and I was threatened with arrest, for a breach of the peace. I asked to speak to the manager to report the theft of the property, but I was stunned when the manager suddenly burst out laughing, the Police officer was also smiling. Then a tall smartly dressed man stepped forward, his next words took me totally by surprise.”

“We are in the middle of filming an anti-theft short film here. Please accept our apologies for your embarrassing, worthy reaction, we would like you to accept this money to go some way to smoothing over this unfortunate situation!” I am Henry Hills, the director.

Robin grimaced, made appropriate shocked remarks, reflecting his hurt feelings at this unforeseen embarrassment, and left with, £1000.00 in cash.

Later he would be found in the local bar drowning his well smoothed feelings with a velvety smooth Guinness, having passed on £500.00 to his daughter, who worked in the store.

Life’s like that!

The Daily Post

THE SOUR HONEY

Posted on May 11, 2016 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

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.

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.

THE PASSIVE STABILITY OF THE PERFECT LOCK

Posted on May 9, 2016 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

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.”

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “FLOWER GRAFFITI”

Posted on Apr 12, 2016 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “FLOWER GRAFFITI”
http://bekindrewrite.com

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!”

Peace

http://bekindrewrite.com

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