EDIBLE PORTAL

Posted on Dec 23, 2016 by John Yeo | 1 Comment

A prompt response for ~ Inspiration Monday: Edible Portal

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EDIBLE PORTAL

by John Yeo

The two minuscule friends, from the rodent “Mus musculus” family, scurried across a floral patterned carpet on the cottage parlour floor. They were members of a nocturnal family of uninvited residents who lived in the thatched roof of the period cottage in the centre of the village. There was a new large colourful structure in the corner of the parlour.

“Oh! Look at this wonderful new house in the corner here, this is just right for the children; the doors are locked, though!” said Minnie excitedly.

There was a loud snore from the bedroom and a grunt as Colonel Travers, the occupant and owner of the cottage turned over in his sleep restlessly. The two friends dived for cover. In the process, Micky knocked a lamp down that crashed to the floor. That sound brought a figure wearing a nightshirt and a floppy nightcap rushing from the adjoining bedroom carrying a shotgun. Stomping around the house the Colonel, searched high and low looking for intruders.

Cursing loudly he picked up the lamp and headed straight back to bed.

“Oh, that was close Minnie! Let’s try and get inside this house and have a look around. The door is pretty solid but my word it does taste good; I think if we bring the whole family in we should eat our way inside and have a good look round.”

“OK! Micky, I’ll call everyone together and we can have a feast.”

The whole family were soon eating their way into the gingerbread house.

There was a knock on the door the next morning that got the Colonel out of bed early.

“Hallo!” Called Mrs Manners “Are you home?”

“Of course I’m bloody home, where else would I go?” came an almost inaudible reply. “Coming!” Came a louder response and the Colonel opened the door still wearing his floppy nightcap.

“Hello Colonel, I’ve come to finish the gingerbread house, how’s it looking?” said Mrs Manners, as she bustled into the cottage.

“Oh Wow; judging by the look of it, a whole nest of mice must have visited.”

“Good lord!” said the Colonel and raised his eyebrows. “You will have to demolish the house now, I will set some traps to catch the mice.”

“Sorry Colonel, I will get the ladies together to construct another house for you in time for your great grandchildren’s arrival. Merry Christmas!”

“Thanks; Merry Christmas, Mrs Manners.”

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HEY!

Posted on Dec 15, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

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A prompt response for ~ Inspiration Monday: Man’s First Word

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HEY!

by John Yeo

There was silence in the outer hemispheres of the galaxy for millennia. The elder trolls were unique in the areas of communication throughout the exo-galactic panoply of extraordinary people. Their way of communicating by nonverbal means had been raised to new heights.

On an extraordinary blue planet, life was formed and developed. Asteroids had collided and re-collided. Comets visited; bringing chemicals to permeate a life-giving mix of chemicals giving rise to unique life-forms. Exoplasm mingled and re-mingled again in the hands of the entity that was controlling the flow of matter.

The life forms mixed and remixed, soon a survivor in the likeness of the controller emerged. “Hey!” Thought the controller; “I am almost there!”

Then to his delight, he heard the word. “Hey!” Repeated back to him.

Shocked he silently strained his ultrasonic hearing to the limits.

Then the silence was broken by the familiar sound of his Mother’s voice resonating around the galaxy.

“God! put your toys away! It’s late!”

“Oh; Mother! Please; Can’t I just have another couple of eons?”

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THE INFERNAL EPISTLES according to the BARD

Posted on Dec 8, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

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A prompt response for ~ Inspiration Monday: Infernal Epistles

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THE INFERNAL EPISTLES according to the BARD

by John Yeo

The Bard sat at his writing desk and began to write another play. This would be

the most fiendish, frightening, fantastic play he had ever put his name to.

Just as he had sharpened the nib on his favourite quill pen, there was an unruly din from the ground below. Someone was knocking vigorously on his door and shouting his name raucously. He recognised the familiar tones of his good friend and fellow playwright Kit. He opened the window quickly and shouted; “Hold fast Kit, I’ll come and join you!”

Leaping down the stairs two at a time the Bard opened the door gingerly, the busy muddy path was thronged with people going about their business. His good friend Kit stood way back from the rickety house grinning all over his face. “Greetings Bard, I come to tear you away from your dubious scribing. Let us retire to the nearest ale house and consume vast quantities of good sack.”

“An offer too good to refuse Kit, Let’s go!“

The two friends were soon in a popular local hostelry, quaffing flagons of sack together, toasting the success of the Bard’s last phenomenal production.

“What are you working on now Bard?” asked Kit

“The play is almost complete Kit, based on a number of scrolls that have come into my possession, this is the story of an evil scribe, the good lady Agatha. She will be ruthless, cold-hearted, cold-blooded with no morals whatsoever, harsh with her friends; her enemies would rapidly become terminated, one way or another.

Lady Agatha is a woman with ambition to dominate: Her power and her control over the life and death of victims will be absolute. Lady Agatha will be in a position to raise people up to the heights, then smash them back to earth. Without the slightest compunction whatsoever, Kit.” said the Bard excitedly.”

“Zounds! Where did these scrolls come from? How did you get hold of them?”

“The scrolls were recovered from a cellar beneath the infamous Bedlam asylum. They are so full of mysterious ritualistic killing and unhealthy feelings of murder and mayhem. They could become a blight on future generations, indeed they could become addictive and even popular. I obtained them on loan from a satanic priest who stole them from the archives. They are believed to be so dangerous that the Queen has ordered them to be burned. I have since learned that the thief has been hung drawn and quartered, and his head now resides on a pole above London Bridge.”

“Wow!” exclaimed Kit. “You must be in grave danger being in possession of these infernal epistles! You should be in hiding!”

At that precise moment, there was a commotion as a person whose face was obscured by his cloak lunged at the Bard with a knife. Kit turned and received a wound in the eye that killed him instantly. The Bard turned and made good his escape through the rear door of the hostelry before the constables arrived.

The Bard returned the epistles from whence they came.

History relates that the infernal epistles survived into the early twentieth century where they were updated and published by another famous Agatha, who became a well-known scribe. Controversy still rages over the content of the infernal epistles.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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JANUARY BLUES

Posted on Dec 2, 2016 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

This article was written for “QUINTET,” our Parish magazine, requesting submissions on the theme of January Blues

JANUARY BLUES

Sowing the Seeds of Recovery

by John Yeo

Uplifting Christmas carols and music. Sparkling, colourful lights have now been replaced with the shock of the after-effects, and the cold gray winter weather of January.

A moment of taking stock, counting the cost of the revels that have gone before.

This time of the year can be a lonely time after the celebrations are over and the family have all left and gone their separate ways

We plan to visit several people, neighbours, and friends who we know will appreciate a chat and a few moments of company. A cheery word in the right ear can bring magic to a sufferer of January blues.

For some, January is a time of reflection on the past year, with high hopes for the future We feel the lowness of mood, that follows the high Christmas cheer, of the celebrations with friends and neighbours.

January is a month of gloomy darkness.

Cold, dreary weather, when the blue of the skies is obscured by gray cloud, midwinter frosts, and freezing temperatures.

There is a recognized uneasy mood affected disorder around, known as seasonal affective disorder or SAD for short. Light therapy is a way this disorder is treated by exposure to artificial light.

Perhaps another way to combat SAD is to bask in the benefit of the light that the enlightenment of the epiphany has revealed, by the special relaxed calmness that can be obtained through prayer and having faith that the future is a mystery that has yet to be solved.

Another way to chase the blues away is by planning a holiday, this is one of the most popular ways to combat the January blues. Just seeing piles of brochures with photographs of beautiful blue skies, and impressive surf with waves pounding into some golden sands is certain to lift the most downtrodden spirits.

Sadly the alluring TV adverts and seductive brochures, that drop through many of our letterboxes, can actually contribute to a deep feeling of depression, especially when some of us will never have the financial means or health to take advantage of them.

Again this is a time to be considerate and cautious, with the sure knowledge that things can improve with the reaching out of a warm connecting smile.

As a gardener and an avid grow-your-own enthusiast on my allotment. Easily the most satisfying, rewarding and entertaining way to spend those long January evenings, is with an enormous pile of seed catalogues and brochures; planning the growing year in advance. I can picture myself in the Spring, sowing tiny minuscule seeds, taking care of the seedlings to promote growth. I can close my eyes and picture an array of wonderful flowers in full bloom. I can picture fresh wholesome tasty vegetables that will bring a smile of satisfaction to my face with the sheer joy of accomplishment.

The January blues will swiftly become a faint memory as I look into the gardening future.

“Cheer up my friend Spring will certainly arrive. How are you today?”

SOUL SURGERY

Posted on Dec 2, 2016 by John Yeo | 3 Comments

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A prompt response for ~ Inspiration Monday: Soul Surgeon

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SOUL SURGERY

by John Yeo

Jim Greaves was a hard- bitten, been-around retired medical doctor. Jim had reached the age of honorable discharge from the health service and joined the ranks of silver-haired senior citizens.

Retirement didn’t come that easy to Jim, he was no gardener, and the easy life of pints in the pub at lunchtime, with the doubtful, soul-destroying, excitement of daytime television, was beginning to bore him stiff.

When Jim took up golf, on the advice of his GP; Mary his beloved wife of thirty years almost fainted away with relief at the news. Jim had become a bit of a nuisance, hanging around the house all day long and getting under her feet.

“Why don’t you come and join the golf club, Mary?” Jim asked excitedly:

Mary went white at this request, but she quickly recovered to coolly reply, “No thanks, Jim, I will try to catch up with the garden on the days you play golf.”

Peter Danvers, another retired medic and Jim became golfing partners and firm friends. Both men were having difficulty settling into retirement, and when an unusual opportunity came up for some part-time health officers at London airport, both men jumped at the chance.

Life at the airport was full of varied experiences and close contact with people from many parts of the world.

One memorable day, several members of the border patrol force were summoned to a remote part of the airfield to interview and process three strangely dressed individuals. They were bussed to the spot to find a small alien-looking craft surrounded by armed forces.

The first individual, to be interviewed spoke perfect English, with a slight old-style, Anglo-Saxon accent, introduced himself as the leader of the party.

“I am Merlin, we come in peace, from the recently resurfaced island of Atlantis. We are physicians of the inner regions, making good the damage done by polluted thinking and feeling. We come to offer surgery to save the souls of sentient beings.”

“Can I see your papers?” Asked the Chief Security Officer.

At that precise moment, Jim Greaves and Peter Danvers collapsed unconscious on the tarmac. There was a panic as medics were called forward and began desperately trying to revive the two men.

There was a sudden silent liftoff as the three visitors re-boarded their craft in the general melee.

It proved impossible to bring the two men round to normality and they became soulless zombies, confined to a hospital.

Until the day, exactly one year later they came round and related a tale of souls that could travel without the need of a body. The first recorded communication by Jim, was as follows.

“ Bodies age and decay! Life is forever!”

(“If you provide me some wonderfully bizarre prompts Stephanie, the chances are you will read a bizarre response occasionally.”)

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TURNIP AND CHIPS

Posted on Nov 25, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

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A prompt response for ~ Inspiration Monday: Vegetable Oppression

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TURNIP AND CHIPS

by John Yeo

“I tell you it’s the Turnips fault; ever since he was voted in with a narrow majority, we have been forced to be openly aggressive to anything and everything. I always used to think it was the Sprouts and Runner Beans that were full of wind. This Turnip fellow has majestic plans to sort out the rest of the allotment and stick strictly to home-grown vegetables in future. No more imports of any description will be allowed in.” The Pumpkin puffed out, as he openly flicked a large slug from attempting to gnaw into him, with a large frond attached to one of his leaves.

A group of Iceberg Lettuces standing in a neat row nodded in agreement in the strong wind, their spokesman addressed the assembly; “Don’t blame us! We voted for the Onion; a good choice: Not exactly a Spring Onion, you understand, but a super experienced Onion. An Onion that knows its Radishes from Beetroot.”

The Pumpkin continued; “The Turnip has promised some incredibly wealthy nutrients, riches beyond our wildest dreams. The powerful fertility from the rear end of some home-grown equines. An economic miracle is on the way.”

“Surely there is no way our economy can function without the cheapness and convenience of the new varieties of F1 interbreeding and Scientifically modified imports.” emphatically stated a venerable Pak Choi.

“No way? Our esteemed Turnip is decidedly against all mass-produced cheap imports and proposes we will function quite successfully with our own homegrown vegetables. The new leader didn’t hesitate to propose a solid wall be erected right around the allotments, preventing entrance by all alien varieties of vegetables.” the Pumpkin went on.

An army of potatoes, smartly dressed in heaped up piles of rich khaki fertiliser stood to attention, awaiting orders from their commanding officers. Always at the ready to be roasted, fried or mashed for the good of the allotment appetites.

Meanwhile grumbles of discontent at the new order were heard among the Carrots and Swedes and several other varieties of vegetables. Particularly certain sections of the Jerusalem Artichokes and Asparagus.

There were also rumbles of discontent among certain self-seeded wild flowers whose seeds had drifted onto the allotments from neighbouring areas. Dissatisfaction was noted with certain inferences and some mysterious patterns of thought as to their place in the future plans of the allotment growth.

Threats of anarchy and revolution were brushed off by the Turnip administration. Peace would certainly require a re-count and possibly a re-seeding of the whole administration to promote new growth and eliminate oppression.

The whole assembly agreed that the well tended allotment site would continue to function successfully regardless of the vegetable at the head of the assembly during the future growing seasons.

FICTION NOTICE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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COMFORTABLY NUMB

Posted on Nov 17, 2016 by John Yeo | 6 Comments

A prompt response for ~ Inspiration Monday: Comfortably Numb

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COMFORTABLY NUMB

by John Yeo

Henpecked Humphrey is worn down by the demands and blatant unpleasantness brought on by the vulnerability of his wife, Angelique; an invalid who is perhaps not as invalid as he believes. Demanding and cruelly calculating she knows he will never find the courage to leave her. Humphrey, her husband, is a meek, mild-mannered man who always looks on the positive side of any situation and is infrequently rewarded with small favours from this overbearing manipulating monster.

One sunny day Humphrey and Angelique are out walking

“Come along Humphrey! We are falling behind: My legs, even with my stick and my other walking aides will never stand the strain of these hills. You are an impossible man to get along with I will never forget the day after we got married when I had that terrible fall that did irreparable damage to my spine. Are you listening to me or am I talking to myself.”

“Yes Angelique!

“Humphrey! Push harder, we will never keep up if you are going to be lazy. Push the wheelchair harder. Look out there’s a car coming, it may career onto the pavement and kill us both. Look out man!”

“Yes Angelique!”

Just at that moment Bob and Phylis came by, they had just become friendly with Humphrey and Angelique.

“Hello folks!” said Phylis, “How are you both?”

Angelique immediately answered the question. “We’re fine thanks, Humphrey is being a bit difficult at the moment; aren’t you Humphrey?”

“Yes Angelique!”

Bob then smiled and said; “How are things with you Humphrey?”

“Oh! You’re fine aren’t you Humpy? We are out for a walk taking the air.”

“Yes Angelique!”

Phylis then interjected and said, “Angelique; why don’t us girls have a nice cup of tea in this cafe? I’m sure Humphrey won’t mind, and we can let the boys loose to have a pint in that pub across the road.”

“I’m not sure about that! I need Humphrey here to take care of me at all times, don’t I Humphrey?”

“Yes Angelique!”

“I’ll look after you while we sit and enjoy a nice cup of tea and a chat Angelique!” said Phylis.

“I’m not sure about that, you like to be with me all the time don’t you Humphrey?”

“Yes Angelique!”

Bob then said, “It’s OK both, we would hate to come between two lovers who are devoted to each other as you two obviously are. How long have you two lovebirds been married?”

Angelique then immediately responded, “Thirty eight years, we met each other at university didn’t we Humpy?”

“Yes Angelique!”

Bob then said with a smile, “That must have been a red letter day in your life Humphrey! Certainly a day to remember.”

“Yes it was,” Angelique answered swiftly, “We are very happy and life is comfortable. Aren’t we Humpy?”

“Yes Angelique!”

“Come on then! Humphrey push on or we will be late for our yoga and relaxation session. Goodbye you two; lovely talking to you; we always enjoy a chat. Don’t we Humpy?”

“Yes Angelique!”

“Come on then! My legs are getting stiffer by the second. Get a move on Humphrey! Push harder or we will be late.”

“Yes, My Angel”

Bob was stunned at this, as they watched the couple making their way up the hill to the village hall. Humphrey was almost bent double pushing the wheelchair up the hill.

“Phylis that bloke is so worn down he has got past uncomfortable and is numb with shock. Comfortable and numb.”

“Yes Bob, you’re absolutely right. Comfortably numb! I couldn’t have put it better myself.”

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UNCERTAINTY

Posted on Oct 25, 2016 by John Yeo | 2 Comments

A prompt response to ~ http://thinkwritten.com/category/creative-writing-prompts/

No. 296 – Cravings: Write about craving something:

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UNCERTAINTY

by John Yeo

“Phillip! Stop gazing out of the window. What is it that is fascinating you so much? You have been sitting in that chair for ages, just gazing out of the window, staring at nothing. I see the trees and our garden lawn. There is nothing else to be seen; tell me what is it that is holding your attention? What do you see?”

“Father, sorry I am deep in thought I see wealth beyond our means, I see riches enough to comfortably follow the sun from one end of this earth to the other. I see the luxury enjoyed by the super-rich. I feel our inadequacy when I see the wonderful lifestyles enjoyed by other more fortunate people, daily flashed into our home by the media. I want to be like those people, I crave the means to escape from the everyday drudgery of our humdrum lifestyle. I want wealth, travel, fine food and clothes with the chance to mix with people who know how to love life and live life to the full.”

“Philip, my son, Mother and I have given you our all, everything we possess is yours, but you are talking nonsense. You are an intelligent young man and you will go far in your chosen profession, everyone thinks highly of you and you will be extremely comfortable one day. Please forget these impossible ideals of limitless wealth. Crave to be happy and comfortable with a lovely wife and family, this is a realistic set of ideals that you will certainly achieve. Banish these impossible cravings and live.”

“Father, I love and respect you and I value your advice; but I see how hard you have to work to survive, I see the lines on your face that reveal a life that has lived through some tough times. I have this unbearable craving to be wealthy; I will do anything to escape and luxuriate in the life lived by the super-rich. I feel if I can find a way to accumulate enough money quickly, I will be able to satiate my cravings that hunger for wealth and the life my needs require.”

“What do you mean by anything; Philip? I see a glittering pathway in front of you with a happy comfortable future, but these unrealistic desires are impossible to achieve. How do you propose to get rich quick to accumulate the money to fund the lifestyle demanded by these impossible cravings?”

“Father, I have a plan, a brilliant plan that involves a mathematically infallible system I have worked out how to break the banks of all the major casinos in this country. I have spent the last two years working day and night on this system. It is an unbreakable chain of numbers that will certainly get what I want.

I just need your help to start the ball rolling with some cash, I know you will be able to get a second mortgage to help me by advancing me some funds. Of course, I will be able to pay you back as I will be extremely wealthy.”

Philip’s father’s, angry, shocked, face revealed his feelings.

“Gambling!” He exclaimed. “You propose to borrow money from your Mother and me to fund your risking everything by gambling? Never son! This is something I will never condone, I am sure there is no such thing as a perfect system, and I refuse to have anything to do with any hair-brained scheme just because of your insatiable desire to be wealthy.”

Philip looked strangely nonplussed by this reaction, “Father I am sorry you feel this way, I was sure you would help. I have already approached a firm of unsecured lenders to raise money to test the system, and it really works. I have paid them back their loan with a huge sum of interest. I thought you would welcome the chance for our family to be unimaginably wealthy. I would use the initial winnings to invest in the stock market and we would have more than enough to enjoy life to the full.

Philip smiled as he left the house that day, never to return in his parents lifetimes. He became extraordinarily wealthy by using his system and diversifying the winnings, thus defeating his craving for limitless wealth.

Sadly another craving slowly took over his life, as he craved the excitement of the turn of the cards. The unbreakable system proved to be as fallible as his Father had predicted.

Ah! But that’s another story.

Writers Block~ Breaching the Dam

Posted on Aug 6, 2014 by John Yeo | Leave a comment

OVERCOMING THE INFERNAL WRITERS BLOCK

By John Yeo

The block is in place and creativity is impossible. Life pressures build, and priorities change, the writing and the creative process have ground to a halt. Tossing and turning in bed at night, seems just to make the block far worse, almost insoluble. How to alleviate the misery and begin to write? The way to deal with a dam is, of course, to puncture it and unleash the contents.

Relaxation is the key and the first step in the process of unblocking, is just to breathe and allow the creative juices to flow. A wide ranging reading session of some very good books will help to generate ideas, and start to puncture the dam, fertile thought tends to generate fertile thought.

The fertility and the greenness of “Mother-Nature” and all things growing and fighting for survival, make up a very very large slice of the creative oeuvre. Walking the lanes or working in the garden, will do wonders to stimulate thought and to germinate the seeds that will turn into wonderful creative ideas.

The puncture of the dam is now well and truly under way a tiny trickle of ideas for creative writing has now become a continual seep.

Never be afraid to ask for help along the way, many people have suffered and overcome the dreaded block, and the road to inspiration is well travelled. Guidance is always available, sometimes in unlikely guises, as well as the obvious leadership that is always available.

Lastly the secret of turning that regular seep of ideas into a flood of inspiration, is to look around you. Take careful note of how others are learning slowly to cope, in a generally uninspiring world, and come to terms with the block through belief in themselves and belief in a far greater inspiration.

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