PICTURE IT AND WRITE ~ THE REALITY OF A DREAM

Posted on Feb 16, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

This is a latest Picture it and Write prompt from Emilia’s blog ~20th January

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2016/02/14/picture-it-write-85/ Ermilia's Angel

As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia

THE REALITY OF A DREAM

by John Yeo

There was an imperfection, I could clearly see where the scars were not healing properly. I paid a fortune to have every pore of my face re-modelled and re-sculptured. I am not happy with the results, my surgeon has made so many errors in the restructuring and rebuilding, I cannot help but shed tears for my former angelic appearance. Before I was assaulted by acid and I was thrust screaming through the channel into the jaws of this rough cold heartless environment. My wings! I can clearly see them pictured when I look into the mirror, I can see them, but I am unable to feel them, it is almost as if the image looking back at me is not my reflection.

I remember the pain, searing shocking pain, when the acid was thrown in my face. I screamed but I was unable to hear my own shocking screams of agonised pain. Then the reality of this horrific scarring. Deformed for the rest of my life, I can hardly bear to look in the mirror. I keep begging the surgeons to finish the operation, and bring my features back to some sort of normality. My surgeon says the operation has been a great success, but I can still see tiny little scars. The horrific realisation that I am never, going to look the same again, has changed my whole outlook.

The routine in this section of the hospital is the only thing that breaks up the day for me. I have been transferred into this section under the pretext of a further period of rest and recuperation. I can’t understand why the doors are always locked and I am not allowed to go outside. The Doctors have taken all the mirrors away from me, I am not permitted to see my distorted reflection. My hair is now long, lank and unbrushed, I can’t wear makeup, as I am not allowed a mirror to apply any makeup.

Today I am going to be permitted to see myself as I really am. A very large mirror on wheels has been brought into the consulting room, covered by a blanket. My arms have been restrained with straps at the sides of the chair.

“Hello Coral! We are here to create a magical transformation. First we will reveal to you, your true appearance, then the Nurse will gently give you a tablet to enable you to sleep for a while, then, when you wake up, your normal beauty will have been restored.”

The blanket covering the mirror was suddenly removed. Looking back at me was an unkempt reflection of a plain dowdy woman, in shock. Yes SHOCK! I screamed and struggled to free myself from the restraints, without success. The Nurse gave me a drink of cloudy water with a ground-up tablet, I struggled and fought and screamed loudly as I attempted to get away from the horrific apparition that looked back at me from this mirror. The drug then took effect and I drifted into unconsciousness.

When I came to, several hours later, my memory of the past was a vague recollection of the horror of what seemed like a dream. As things became clearer, realisation set in, I leapt to the mirror that was still in my room and my spirits lifted, as if a dark curtain had been opened. I could see my normal self smiling back at me in complete recognition.

I must have been dreaming, or in another dimension of reality, I don’t know. What happened?

Why am I suddenly wearing wings?

Ermilia's Angel

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “QUIET LIGHT”

Posted on Feb 13, 2016 by John Yeo | 4 Comments

Image Copyright John and Margaret

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “QUIET LIGHT”
Posted on February 13th, 2016 by John Yeo
A prompt response for Inspiration Monday

Inspiration Monday: Quiet Light

STARLIGHT

by John Yeo

I always relish the night shift at the hospital. The administration have all gone home, that leaves the professionals to fully take over and we can do our jobs without too much interference from the budget boys. Too many fingers in the pie if you ask me!
I remember once when a patient was in pain and there was some argument over whether we should use the latest methods to ease the pain. The poor patient was pumped full of morphine, while three admin men discussed whether the hospital could afford the very latest miracle light rays that have just been introduced.
This is a brilliant, bright new starlight, that mimics the rays of starlight that have streamed unused and ignored by scientists until a very powerful computer picked up the almost silent sound of the starlight rays bouncing of the Earth’s surface. Professor Modesty then hooked the starlight to a machine that generates a beam of fantastic intensity, that has proved to be the most powerful painkiller ever known. One gentle bathe in the purifying quiet starlight and pain is instantly a memory that allows time for the medical specialists to identify and cure the causes.
This wonderful new technique is very expensive to use as it is difficult to generate starlight in the daylight hours.
Now on the night-shift we are able to freely use this pain killer, without any interference or repercussions from these admin ignoramuses. The quiet light eases the pain of the patients and ensures a drug free, pain free night.
What these budget conscious, penny pinching idiots don’t seem to realise is that the stars come out at night and the quiet starlight is free to use without the necessity of expensive machines.
I do love the night shift.

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.

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “THE SNARK AGES”

Posted on Feb 5, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

A prompt response for Inspiration Monday

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A prompt response for Inspiration Monday: “The Snark Ages”

Image © Copyright John and Margaret

THE SNARK AGES

by John Yeo

Today I am going to steal something from you my patient readers on a timescale of microseconds this will feel painful. Each microsecond will be as valuable as each of the preceding microsecond, an infinity of time to the little known elusive impossible snark.

Our story begins with a puzzle, when a For Sale sign was removed from a suburban house.

A little later, the dustmen started to remove the rubbish from the side of the house.

Rumour had it that the house was sold to a mysterious couple, who the estate agent never actually met, the house was purchased by an agent acting on their behalf, who professed never to have met his clients. The owners moved in, in the dead of night, and no one saw them arrive.

The only clue they were there, was when the dustmen collected the trash.

The couple settled into the neighbourhood very well, or so they thought, but strangely they had no contact with the people on either side of their house. The people on the block never saw a sign of them, not even a hide or hair of them, not a whisker. The full dustbins were always removed then re-filled again by the unseen mysterious occupants.

The curtains were always firmly closed but no-one ever saw any of the occupants. One day Bronson Williams and his wife Louise tapped nervously on the door to introduce themselves and make them feel welcome. No response, Louise left the flowers she was carrying on the doorstep and they gave up and went home. Three days later the flowers were still there and the dustmen came and emptied the bin, with no response from within.

Charlie and Cherise on the other side of the mysterious house, then tried to get a response from the back door, Charlie banged loudly without success, there was no response. The blinds were tightly drawn and Cherise tried to peep inside without success, the place seemed to be quite deserted, they left the flowers they had brought on the back doorstep and returned home. There was a bouquet of rotting blooms on the front doorstep. Three days later the flowers were still there when the dustmen came and emptied the trash.

Four days later a For Sale sign went up and several people were shown around the house by an agent. The owners were nowhere to be seen, eventually the house was sold and a young couple moved in, the neighbourhood breathed a sigh of relief as a sense of normality returned.

The refuse began to be collected again. There was no forwarding address for the occupants as there was nothing to forward.

The culmination of this mysterious tale lies in the microseconds it needed to read it. Each microsecond added to another microsecond eventually becomes infinity. This is known as the elusive mysterious, snark ages.

At the beginning of this tale of decaying refuse, I mentioned I would be stealing something from you my greatly esteemed reader. I have stolen at least five minutes of your precious time.

To the average well read snark, this will feel like ages.

I am sure the refuse will eventually be collected when the dustmen return to work from their strike.

A walk in the Grounds of Felbrigg Hall

Posted on Jan 31, 2016 by John Yeo | 6 Comments

Felbrigg Hall ~ Image © Copyright ~ John and Margaret

A WALK AROUND FELBRIGG HALL

by John Yeo

The day started out cool and sunny, during our breakfast we decided to go for a walk together, after some discussion we decided to go to Felbrigg Hall once again. We have visited this National Trust property quite a few times over the years. Shortly after we settled into this windswept corner of North Norfolk, I remember a time when Margaret and I ventured to Felbrigg Hall at about 4.30am, to join a group to listen to the birdsong of the dawn chorus. We were not very lucky that day, very few birds were singing, but many cows were around feeding on the lush grass in the light of the dawn. I remember we were treated to a breakfast of egg and baked beans on toast, served with mugs of steaming hot tea, in the staff kitchen in the hall, before we returned home.

Images © John and Margaret

Image © John and Margaret

A close up of the South Front of Felbrigg Hall shows the inscription “Gloria Deo in Excelsis” that translates to “Glory to God in the highest,” and may relate to the satisfactory re-establishment of the Wyndhams at Felbrigg Hall.

A few years later, after we were settled in Norfolk, We sung with a church choir in the wonderful St Margaret’s church, that is built in the grounds of Felbrigg Hall, where there is much historical memorabilia relating to the Wyndham family, who purchased the Jacobean Hall from the original Felbrigg family, during the reign of Henry the eighth.
We have attended the annual Chilli festival here twice, and we have enjoyed picnicking in the grounds. We have also visited the interior of the hall and admired the wonderful authentic period furniture and artefacts with beautiful paintings. We are great fans of the walled kitchen garden, where there is an inhabited Dove Cote, and chickens roam freely in the gardens. I am a great admirer of the allotments section in the middle of this garden, and there are two period-style greenhouses, that contain succulents and cacti with many more tender plants and flowers. The surrounding walls are covered by espalier fruit trees, mainly pears and apples, and of course we love the excellent display of seasonal flowers, always on display.
Perhaps a highlight of these visits occurred in the Spring last year, when we visited the farm in Felbrigg hall grounds during the lambing season to watch the new-born lambs, just birthed, unsteadily tottering around in pens attached to the farm. I filmed some of these beautiful creatures taking their first taste of life in this world, with some nice photographs of the farm animals and wild birds around the farm.

Images © John and Margaret

We arrived at Felbrigg, to find the Hall and the gardens closed, but the car park was surprisingly full. The answer became clear when we began our walk, a large group of people dressed in warm clothing, with stout walking boots, some carrying walking sticks, approached the car park. We immediately came to the conclusion that this was an organised walking group, returning from a walk. The green fields of the estate stretched out before us, with a large flock of sheep feeding in a group, they seemed to be so close together, Margaret wondered if they were being rounded up by the farmer.

Image © Copyright John and Margaret

Images © John and Margaret

We wandered around the front of this magnificent well preserved mansion and began taking photographs of the building and the surrounding autumnal woodland. We have never visited the Orangery building and we noticed the doors were wide open, but the whole area was fenced off and the gates were locked as it was closed to the public.
We walked on around the back of the house and followed a path through the woods, where we photographed a nice little glade of snowdrops and some interesting trees. The bird life here is prolific and suddenly Margaret pointed to a large Pheasant that dashed for cover across the path in front of us. We continued along the path and I watched some squirrels diving for cover as we approached, there were numerous blackbirds and finches in the trees. We reached the end of the path to find we were fenced in, we retraced our steps and found a gate open leading into the gardens and made our way back to the car park through the gardens. We had walked at least a mile around the grounds and we were ready to return home for a welcome cup of tea and a rest, after an interesting walk.

Image © Copyright John and Margaret

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.”

Mythopoeia

Posted on Jan 27, 2016 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

A trip through the poetic landscape of timeless words

jubilare

Hubblesite.org
To one who said that myths were lies and therefore worthless, even though “breathed through silver”
Philomythus to Misomythus
(myth-lover to myth-hater)
by J. R. R. Tolkien, to C. S. Lewis
You look at trees and label them just so,
(For trees are ‘trees’, and growing is ‘to grow’);
You walk the earth and tread with solemn pace
One of the many minor globes of Space:
A star’s a star, some matter in a ball
Compelled to courses mathematical
Amid the regimented, cold, inane,
Where destined atoms are each moment slain.

At bidding of a Will, to which we bend
(And must), but only dimly apprehend,
Great processes march on, as Time unrolls
From dark beginnings to uncertain goals;
And as on page o’erwritten without clue,
With script and limning packed of various hue,
An endless multitude of forms appear,
Some grim, some frail, some beautiful, some queer,

View original post 1,032 more words

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “PORTABLE NIGHT”

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

Image © Copyright~ John and Margaret

A prompt response for Inspiration Monday

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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.

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A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “CATASTROPHIC SUCCESS ”

Posted on Jan 22, 2016 by John Yeo | 6 Comments

A prompt response for Inspiration Monday

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A prompt response for Inspiration Monday: “Ground Control”

CATASTROPHIC SUCCESS

by John Yeo

“Bill and Bella have won the lottery!” said Robin enthusiastically to his wife.

”What’s that darling? You’re joking! Really how much did they win, I must catch up with Bella. Do you know, she’s my oldest friend, but I haven’t heard from her for months.”

“I’m not exactly sure how much, Sarah my love. I must try to get hold of Bill too, we were on the golf club committee together, maybe he will have won enough to see his way clear to funding a new clubhouse.”

Sarah smiled as she bent down and patted a passing dog that was on a long lead, “Hello Rexie, good girl, there’s a good doggie, sorry I haven’t got any chocolate today. Hello, Mrs. Perkins! Have you heard the news? Bill and Bella have won the lottery this week.”

“Have they really Mrs. Edwards, how much did they win? I’m on my way to the church, the Vicar was asking after them last Sunday. I’m sure they will make a substantial donation towards the fund for a new church roof, now they are wealthy.”

“Well Mrs Perkins, I don’t know how wealthy they are, but old Ted, the gardener distinctly overheard Bill say to Bella on his mobile, we’ve won the lottery!”

“Hello you two!” A tall slim man approached smiling broadly. “I expect you have heard the news, we have two winners in the community, it’s all over the village. Bill and Bella are always saying how the school needs more IT equipment. I am on my way to see them now, I am sure they will make a substantial donation.” Mr Saunders the headmaster, had kept the local school going for years, Bill and Bella were both ex students. “Have you heard how much they have won?”

“No Mr Saunders, no-one seems to know, I expect they asked for no publicity, you can’t be too careful these days.” replied Mrs Edwards.

“That hypocrite who lives at the end of the village, you know, the one who hates kids walking by his house, always running down Bill and Bella’s kids to all and sundry, wants to organise a surprise party down at the pub for the lucky winners. Money does have some strange effects on people.”

David the local postman rode by on his cycle and called out. “There is a traffic jam in the village apparently someone has won the lottery. Who phoned the press? I can’t get through to deliver the mail!,”

Suddenly a police siren sounded, cutting into the normal peaceful calm of the village.

Mrs. Potts a matronly lady dashed up to the villagers and said, “Someone has been spreading false rumours about Bill and Bella winning the lottery. Well they only won £25.00 for matching three numbers, chaos has erupted, beggars have come from miles around.”

There was a deafening silence as this astonishing news sunk in among the assembled villagers.

“The good news is, old sourpuss has paid for a surprise party tonight and everyone is invited.”

First a few silent grins, then a snicker and several chuckles, with loud laughter that developed into side-splitting roars of mirth, resounded among the villagers.

Six months later, Bill and Bella quietly sold their house and left the village, never to be seen again. Old sourpuss often wondered about that!

Especially when some workmen arrived to put a new roof on the church, the golf club opened a new club-house and the local school was completely fitted out with new IT equipment. All down to funds provided by lottery grants everyone said.

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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

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