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SHADOW MONSTERS

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MONDAY 17th AUGUST 2020

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..

August writing prompts

SHADOW MONSTERS 

by John Yeo

    Elaine was late coming home after a wonderful evening out with her new friend Robert. They had danced the night away at a local youth club and the time had just flown by. Elaine’s dad was a stickler for timekeeping and she really didn’t want to be late and get grounded. Robert had left her after the youth club had closed, when his Mum arrived to pick him up. They had offered Elaine a lift but she had declined in favour of walking home. In reality she wasn’t ready for her Dad to find out where she had spent the evening.  However there was just one way of getting home on time before her Dad’s deadline time and that was to take a shortcut through the local cemetery. 

    The gate was always open, day and night, no one ever bothered to lock the gates at nighttime for obvious reasons.

 The gate squeaked eerily when she pushed it open. Elaine shuddered to think of the short walk past the rows of headstones. An Owl hooted from the top of an Oak tree. Elaine’s heart was in her mouth as she broke into a run along the pathway.  A sharp wind blew and the trees alongside the pathway were bending and leaning towards her as she quickly ran past. There was a shape lying on one of the benches in the shadows that seemed to be a body. Elaine ran faster and faster until she raced through the gates at the other end and was soon at home knocking on the front door.

    ‘Hello Elaine, you are out of breath! Have you been running? You look all pale as if you’d seen a ghost. Come inside in the warm.’ exclaimed her Dad as he closed the door behind her.

   ‘Thanks Dad, I didn’t want to be late home so I ran.’

    ‘Silly girl, we wouldn’t have worried if you were a few minutes late.’

© Written by John Yeo

DIFFICULT DAYS

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SUNDAY 16th AUGUST 2020

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..

August writing prompts

Image courtesy of pixabay.com

DIFFICULT DAYS

by John Yeo

Charlotte was despairing of work on Mondays

It always too busy at her waitress station 

Mondays were always her most difficult days.

~

Yet the diners were satisfied and full of praise

Of her efficiency and always careful attention 

Charlotte was despairing of work on Mondays.

~

Charlotte started the week in a dreadful malaise

Then gradually got over her initial frustration 

Mondays were always her most difficult days.

~

Work was always a joy during her happy phase

Everyone was impressed by her dedication 

Charlotte was despairing of work on Mondays.

~

Her contrasting demeanour never ceased to amaze

She happily worked hard without compunction

But Mondays were always her most difficult days.

~

Management decided her work to appraise 

Ordering a four day week as the only solution 

Charlotte was despairing of work on Mondays

Mondays were always her most difficult days.

© Written by John Yeo

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HE WORE A YELLOW BANDANA

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SATURDAY 15th AUGUST 2020

This is a response to a Flash Fiction writing prompt by M on WordPress. Which can be found by follow the link below.

August writing prompts

Yellow bandana

HE WORE A YELLOW BANDANA

by John Yeo

  The leader of the Harley crew was Gizmo Green, a man who worshipped his gleaming mean machine. He always wore his trademark yellow bandana over his mouth.This branch of the Hells Angels were devoted to doing as much good in the world as they possibly could. Their fearsome appearance in their leather motorcycle outfits was enough to put people off. Leave alone their long hair and unkempt beards which were enough to instantly breed suspicion in the minds of the police. 

 On the day of a horrendous accident on a major motorway the Hells Angels chapter were on their way to the coast to generally have a good time and raise hell. A train had been derailed from a line alongside the motorway. One carriage had landed upside down on the motorway blocking all three lanes. Scores of people were injured. The Hells Angels were able to get through the blocked lanes on their motorcycles and offer their help. The police and the emergency services were taken aback and the Angels were soon recruited to carry messages and ferry people away from the motorway. When things settled down the Hells Angels chapter roared off on their way to the coast.

  Some time later when the story got around everyone seemed to be searching for the wild man on a motorcycle wearing a yellow bandana. 

 © Written by John Yeo

THE RED DRAGON INN

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FRIDAY 14th AUGUST 2020

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..

August writing prompts

THE RED DRAGON INN

by John Yeo

    Grandma Dragon owned the Red Dragon Inn, a busy dockside bar in Tiger Bay. It was said that she had inherited the bar through a family inheritance. Grandma was a tough cookie who didn’t stand any nonsense from any of the drunken sea salts who frequented her bar. In fact behind her back she was known to one and all by the shortened title of the Dragon. The lady in question had four sons who were mostly at sea, following dubious seafaring professions. There were six grandchildren constantly visiting Granny Dragon and keeping her busy.

    Widowed three times it was rumoured that her last husband had married her on the spur of the moment after a few drunken nights, then he’d absconded to sea and he’d never been seen again. The upshot of this short union was young Mary, who at sixteen years of age, was every bit as tough as her Mother. 

   Trouble broke out in the bar one evening when there was a vicious fight between two quiz teams who disputed the result of the bar quiz that featured every Wednesday evening.

   Apparently the Captain of a visiting team had sneaked a look at the answers. 

  Mayhem erupted, chairs were broken, heads were broken, the police were called and everyone except for the severely wounded disappeared. 

 Young Mary was the heroine of the evening as she bandaged up the wounded with towels until the ambulance arrived.  It was rumoured that most of the broken heads were the result of Grandma Dragon’s furious attempt to break up the fight using an old fashioned rolling pin from the kitchen.

© Written by John Yeo 

PERFECTLY PEDICURED

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WEDNESDAY 12th AUGUST 2020

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..

August writing prompts

PERFECTLY PEDICURED 

by John Yeo

   Chao Lin was the daughter of a rich Chinese businessman. Just approaching marital age, she was betrothed and her wedding was arranged to take place within the next few days. Lee Wen-lin, was the lucky man to be betrothed to Chao Lin, he was fascinated with her tiny feet. It had been a centuries old Chinese custom to bind a woman’s feet to enhance their beauty. This painful process often resulted in deformity and difficulty in walking. Yet Chao Lin showed no signs of difficulty in gracefully getting around on her tiny feet.

  The day before the wedding, the young couple stole away for a few moments together and Lee Wen-lin, who was besotted with his wife-to-be said, ‘Chao Lin, I love to look at your beautiful feet, was it not painful to go through the binding to encourage them to grow so beautiful.’

   Chao Lin, who was equally very much in love with him, replied,

‘No my tiny feet are naturally small and petite my love. Let me show you.’

 She removed her tiny slippers to reveal two beautifully formed, perfectly pedicured tiny feet.

© Written by John Yeo

A SIZABLE SANCTUARY

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TUESDAY 11th AUGUST 2020

This post is written by response to a prompt by ‘M’ on WordPress which can be accessed by following the link below.

August writing prompts

A SIZABLE SANCTUARY

by John Yeo

The motor cruiser was steeped in luxury

Every need of the occupant was catered for

The sea would always be a sizable sanctuary.

~

The Captain headed off on this voyage in a hurry

The passenger laid back watching the receding shore

The motor cruiser was steeped in luxury.

~

The wind on the waves blew calm and blustery

As the boat left for distant parts to explore

The sea would always be a sizable sanctuary.

~

The rich man had left the pandemic instantly

News broke of the deaths and spread, so sure

The motor cruiser was steeped in luxury.

~

The awful truth of the dangers and the discovery

The symptoms were much too plain to ignore

The sea would always be a sizable sanctuary.

~

His medical team monitored his health constantly

As the wealthy man gazed from his position offshore,

The motor cruiser was steeped in luxury.

The sea would always be a sizable sanctuary.

~

© Written by John Yeo

JUMBLED LIKE JENGA

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MONDAY 10th AUGUST 2020


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..

….https://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2020/08/01/august-writing-prompts-3/



JUMBLED LIKE JENGA


by John Yeo
   

06:30, the sun was shining already and I decided to get up early and make my way over to the allotment. Margaret had turned over in our bed and sleepily said, ‘I’ll walk over to the allotment and join you there later.’   The rooks were cawing loudly in the nearby rookery, I remember thinking, when I arrived, ‘I would hate to live in one of the houses nearby.’ As soon as I reached our plot, I sensed something was amiss, it wasn’t until I saw the broken glass on the floor outside our shed, I realised we had been victims of an attempted burglary. The large padlock was still securely fastened to the door frame and had obviously resisted all attempts to remove it. The window had been smashed and the villains had tried to squeeze their arms in to steal whatever came to hand. Consequently a nest of shelves had been pulled down and everything was scattered everywhere.  At that point Margaret arrived and remarked that all our seed packets and plant labels were all over the place.    ‘Oh no!’ She exclaimed, ‘Everything is scattered and jumbled like Jenga’

   ‘We’d better call the police.’ I said, ‘There’s traces of blood on the glass, who’s Jenga?’

 ‘It’s a game, don’t worry about it, just call the police!’


© Written by John Yeo


DR. GALAXY

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Sunday 9th August 2020

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..

August writing prompts

DR. GALAXY 

by John Yeo

Dr Galaxy was in charge of Covid isolation ward E,

Anonymous with her face visor covered by a mask

She was suited and booted covered with PPE.

~

She wore her name on a badge all could plainly see

She was a healing presence with an unenviable task

Dr Galaxy was in charge of Covid isolation ward E.

~

When the horrors accumulated to a terrible degree

Surrounded by suffering the infection rate vast

She was suited and booted covered with PPE.

~

High tension in the ward, science couldn’t foresee

Some recovered, yet many patients breathed their last,

Dr Galaxy was in charge of Covid isolation ward E.

~

It seemed the virus, out of control, running free,

Indiscriminately passing from person to person so fast

Staff were suited and booted covered with PPE

~

The professionals clapped whenever a patient was free,

They were too busy fighting to stop in their glory to bask,

Dr Galaxy was in charge of Covid isolation ward E.

She was suited and booted covered with PPE.

© Written by John Yeo

PANCAKE PANDEMONIUM

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SATURDAY 8th AUGUST 2020

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..

August writing prompts

PANCAKE PANDEMONIUM

by John Yeo

 There was a feeling of mutiny in the air at Clive college. One of the teachers had caned a popular boy for his insolence. Apparently he had had the effrontery to refuse to clean the corridor with a bucket and polish, not only that, he had stuck his tongue out at the matron, when she asked him to do it.  It was Shrove Tuesday and after the normal assembly, where prayers were recited, the whole school had been treated to a lecture on obeying instructions instantly. Tom Magillen, a senior boy and his sidekick,  Clive Charter, called together their ‘circle of seven’, a group of friends who always stuck together. 

    ‘We can’t allow this treacherous assault on one of our number to go by unanswered.’ Said Tom.

   Clive agreed emphatically and replied, ‘Last term we had a similar incident and staged a bun fight at supper time. We could always try something like that again and make our point.’

  ‘You’re right there!’ Exclaimed Tommy Dorset, if we all act together they will have difficulty punishing the whole school and at least we’ll have made a point.’

  Tom Magillen then spoke up again, ‘We all need to pass the word around at breakfast time this morning and when I give the nod we should start the riot.’

 Pancakes were on the menu at lunchtime and this was where the school cook came into his own and served 200 pancakes, mostly liberally drenched in thick gooey syrup  When the plates heaped with sticky pancakes where passed around and reached the final table, Tom Magillen nodded towards the top table where the senior staff sat. Instantly the air was full of flying sticky pancakes flooding toward the senior staff table. It was pancake pandemonium as the senior staff were instantly covered in sticky, gooey, treacle and pieces of flying pancake. Within seconds the dining hall had emptied of pupils. The culprits behind this riot were never brought to book as the telling of this story would certainly cause some ripples of embarrassment for the good name of the school, if the local press got wind of it. 

© Written by John Yeo 

EERIE SIRI

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THURSDAY 6th AUGUST 2020

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..

August writing prompts

EERIE SIRI

by John Yeo

    ‘I never use Siri or Alexa, simply because I find the idea far too eerie. I find it quite disturbing to think that a machine can actually personalise answers to lifestyle questions. I get the feeling that this requires a deep study of my personal likes and dislikes. I am aware that every site I visit on the internet is recorded. Everywhere I go is monitored through my mobile phone, thereby building a complete picture of my habits and lifestyle. Everyone I call or electronically contact is registered, this gives an even clearer picture of my lifestyle and the social status I’ve achieved in life. I’m loath to add to this massive store of electronic information regarding my habitual lifestyle and I never use Siri or Alexa. I consider this accumulation of data connected to me and my lifestyle to be a gross invasion of my personal privacy. I look with horror on the future of mobile communication aids that will possibly include a built in camera that can automatically switch on and off and film my entire waking and sleeping life in incredible detail. Who would be able to view the astonishingly boring episodes but an unfeeling, unthinking machine. My only request for both Siri or Alexa, would be. ‘Hey Switch off!’

© Written by John Yeo