Prompt: You know the old saying that a newspaper headline saying “dog bites man” isn’t worth printing but “man bites dog” really perks up the interest levels amongst the readers? It’s true of course, we all like the more unusual stuff, get bored easily with yet another story about yet… Read More »A person carrying a dog.
Prompt: (* add: a body, old and mummified by the minerals in the water) Have you ever seen a dead person? I mean a proper, once ‘live’, now dead person, a real body, not just TV pathology dramas or serial killer flix. Have you? I have. Too many to be… Read More »A dead person
Prompt: The weather isn’t looking too bad at the moment, the sun is shining, the winds mercifully slow and a temperature above average for this time of year, but the most recent forecast we’d asked the met office via HQ for, suggested that things weren’t going to be looking anywhere… Read More »A small child in a tree
Prompt: My Dad always said I looked like the mirror image of his grand-dad. He’d smile as he said it, ruffle my hair, look across at my Mum & they’d laugh, at some private joke. It was kind of a nice thing to hear but also strange as they never… Read More »A ghost
Prompt It ended with the sound of a heavy motor-boat engine smashing the silence of the night in the delta. We’d seen brilliant moonlight for the past few nights and this one too didn’t disappoint. We could see the wake from the boat as it powered its way down-stream, the… Read More »Looking over a wall
Prompt: In all the spy books or movies, you’re told the best way to check if you’re being followed is to use a shop window or other shiny surface to get a view behind you, without it being obvious to the tail that you’re looking for a tail. I never… Read More »A sweet shop
We’d started the day early, planning to walk more of the historic turquoise trail, heading towards our next night-stop, the old mining town of Madrid where Anne’s parents had a small store that they’d run for the past 25 years or so. Typical hippie stuff of course, some jewellery, some… Read More »A tramp, sleeping
Prompts: 2 people viewed from above I’ve no experience of proper first-aid; the last time I did anything like that, I was pretty much a kid myself and at a local village summer fete were pushed into the St John’s Ambulance tent by our parents (who thought this would be… Read More »Through a secret door
The word came from the 1930s’ abbreviation of logogram or logotype which in turn was, of course, via Ancient Greek for, tadaaaaa, “word” So seeing this image of something that looked similar to one of the old Greek gods seemed very apposite.
There were 20 of us left; not many for a tribe you’d think, but all of us had been together since the Great Departure and knew our brothers and sisters as well as we knew the lines on the palm of our hand, as comfortable around each other as an… Read More »A bridge in the sky 106/200
We’d been told to leave the county. Since the invasion, everywhere seems to be getting more and more parochial. If you’re not born in the village or your family haven’t lived there for 100 years, then you’re a ‘foreigner’. And our group, obvious as we were, with dark curly hair,… Read More »The lost tribe 105/200
I hated these sort of places; the audience, mindless consumers eating their sugared goods, their stinking meat burgers, screaming and shouting whilst the animals remain trapped behind bars, or caged like her inside glass walls, having to sing for their supper. Or breakfast. This one is a killer whale for… Read More »Who, what, why? And the gateway 104/200
I’d moved to Amsterdam a few weeks back, just before the borders closed to us Brits. I was grateful to be out of England. After finding a cheap hostel to stay in until I could start the new cooking job I’d lined up, I walked the old streets and canals,… Read More »Don’t quail at the Dutch 103/200
The yellow eyes of the wolves circling our camp were a constant presence. Out with the boss-man chopping endless logs to be cut down into sleepers, we saw them looking at us; you know their intelligence is just waiting for one of us to be separated from the rest. So… Read More »Working on the chain-gang 102/200
Through the heavy rain ahead of me in an already drenched meadow, I could just make out the shape of a man, looking to be vigorously digging or clearing a section of ground. Getting closer, I realised he was planting a tree. I could see his ragged clothes and as… Read More »Vinegar & brown paper 101/200
I took my usual early morning walk, along the side of the black lake at the head of the valley. I laughed to see appearing through the mist wreathing the surface, a cabbage, gently floating along parallel to me. I wondered who’d lost this? That question and its progress quickly… Read More »Misty water, eggs and cabbages with horns? 100/100
We’d been looking forward to the mast season for weeks now; Fred had been out pretty much all day and night protecting the precious nuts from the predations of the local animals, especially the wild pigs that roamed the area. They were a bugger for eating every one of them up… Read More »Bumbling bumpkins in Burnham Beeches 099/100
I’d been asked to give a talk at the local school; as the only vaguely famous person ever to have passed through their doors, still they must have been pretty desperate if they’d had to choose me, but they offered lunch and a small honorarium. I said “yes” before they… Read More »The first 4 words prompted me… 098/100
I’d been offered the chance to learn the craft of magic under Mage Mellendorft of Berlin. Schooling and board and lodging was paid for; I just had to get from America to Berlin. My parents couldn’t help; they were mouse poor. We had nothing saved or that we could sell… Read More »Crossing the Atlantic for magic moments 097/100
I’ve no idea why this nightmare keeps occurring, night after night after night. But during the dark hours, this one dream keeps cycling around and around. I often wake up, heart pounding, sweat soaking the pillow and the quilt. My girlfriend usually sleeps through it all, except just occasionally, I… Read More »Ducking for daikon in the dark 096/100
The taste of paprika on my tongue was Proustian. I’d had enough; left the warehouse stacking job on Friday afternoon and by Sunday was sitting in a small coastal fishing village at the very end of the Pelion pensinsula. No one knew me. I ate the stifado dish the old… Read More »Rabbit, music and heat 095/100
The station orbit was decaying; I stared listlessly again through the small window in my cabin, down towards the Earth and knew that if something, something (although I knew not what) wasn’t done, I’d be incinerated in a few days. The station randomly, scarily shuddered as the attitude jets fired.… Read More »Be sure to wear flowers in your hair 094/100
I saw this huge, humanoid yet elemental creature walking slowly up the hill towards me; it looked as though a tree had uprooted itself and draped itself in lianas but with arms and legs. The fact that it was 100′ feet tall and carrying a rabbit that was nearly as… Read More »Run rabbit, run. But don’t break the egg 093/100
The tarmac was melting underfoot. I could feel my shoes sticking to it after each step, a sucking, slurping sound as each sole reluctantly lifted. The scorching heat was causing fires to break out, poisonous smoke and gases shrouding me. I had to walk down the road to the post… Read More »The fruit, the ferment, the heat 092/100
The rain hadn’t stopped for over a week. We’d been told that it’s forecasted until the end of the month. Yet another reason to try and get out of this God-forsaken hell-hole country. I like rain as much as the next person. But not all the time. I’d managed to… Read More »The mud, the marsh, the drink 091/100
The lamb looked diseased. Its skin like a marshmallow left too long bubbling on the poker in front of the fire. I’d been out doing some grocery shopping and on the way had been surprised to hear cicadas chirping from the meadow-field, next to the old path leading into the… Read More »Lamb portents in the village 090/100
I woke from a sweaty, clawing, bedclothes tangling dream. It felt so real, enough that — whilst so glad to be awake — so real that I feared a heart attack. What scared me you ask? I’d been trapped in a shed. Not sure where it was but hot, damp.… Read More »Balls on the roof, pain in my heart 089/100
We all know old Harry; he’s on plot 15, the one with the best soil, the best location, the closest to the manure pile. Because he’s on the parish council, so, you know? Bylaws say “no animals”. Harry keeps a fucking python in a shed. A python! It’s not escaped… Read More »Rice and and a snake in the grass 088/100
The bar got noisier as the booze intake level got higher. I wouldn’t have minded this 20 or even 10 years ago but seriously? I’m too old for this loud shit. Too many youthful deafening gigs meant I couldn’t even hear the barman. I decided to head home. Paid the… Read More »Red anchovies at night, ear-ache delight 087/100
The smell of fennel was strong; I’d no idea where it was coming from but there’s no mistaking that aniseed whiff. Maybe a previous passenger had spilt some on the floor in the back? No time to check as I’ve got to get to the abandoned mine quickly. I can… Read More »Fennel flourishes & fearsome teeth 086/100
