On the Origin of Names

I’ll apologise for this one in advance.

PHOTO PROMPT @ A. Noni Mouse

Paris set her spoon down, “India’s a lovely name, how did you get it?”

“My parents adored the subcontinent. They honeymooned there. My middle name’s Jasmine. It grew everywhere and they could smell it while they were making love. What about you?”

“You know, cliché romantic weekend, middle name champagne.”

“Because they were drinking it at the time?” India giggled.

“Yup. And you Kit? That short for Christopher?”

“Er…no…Kitchen.”

The silence gauge hit ‘extreme awkward’ so they moved the conversation swiftly to second name.

Kit hesitated, “Stew.”

“Nice. Short for Stewart?”

“No, just Stew.”

“Hmm…your parents..?

“Yes.”

“OK, who wants coffee?”

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

Egg Thieves

Has everyone’s WordPress changed? It’s taken me ages to work out how to post this. I suppose I’ll have to get used to it.

PHOTO PROMPT © Todd Foltz

Old Harry hailed me outside the village shop, “Your kitchen window’s ajar, so I left them eggs on’t sill. You wanna be careful you’ll get burgled.”

“Not round here, surely,” I replied.

“Not locals, they comes from the town to rob us. Soft touch see, with people leavin’ everything wide open.”

I hastened home, Harry had me worried.

Sure enough, the kitchen resembled a war zone. Smashed crockery, dislodged cooking implements and on the windowsill, broken eggs.

I shooed two screeching magpies back outside.  Bloody security conscious Harry! Those eggs were the surest invitation to thieves and locals to boot.

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here

The Problem of Fast Food.

 

 

 

 

Copyright Ted Strutz

Red shouldn’t live on takeaways, but fast food is so convenient. The health implications of such a diet are horrendous. He was laying down trouble for the future, but Red didn’t understand. Why would he?

He’d learned his poor habits and now it was a lifestyle, which he’d hand down to his offspring. Blissfully unaware of consequences, Red knew no better nor did it worry him, quite the opposite. Red enjoyed the satisfaction of the ignorant.

It’s laborious chasing rats, there’s no rabbits for an urban fox. Scavenging is easy. Amongst the general litter left by humanity, there’s a guaranteed larder.

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

Launching on Kindle 6th June.

When the Train has no Brakes

 

 

 

 

PHOTO PROMPT © CEAyr

Listening to the record wasn’t as charged as being there, but as a fuse it sparked her memories to explode like fireworks. She could see him vividly now, strutting the stage, enslaving the audience, owning the world. She never loved him so much as in that instance. She dragged her knees up to her chin and crushed a cushion to her breast, sobbing.

“He was so high that night. Why did he need to chase more? He already had it all, why wasn’t that enough?”

She sighed. It was it seemed he’d always known. Ever since, he named the band, Icarus.

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

Available now from Amazon.

DIY Private Investigation is not for the fainthearted. What could the inhabitants of a rural Essex village possibly know about hunting down and defeating a violent drugs gang?  Where do you start? Why would you even contemplate starting?

Launch Day – Outsiders

I have great pleasure in announcing the launch of my latest novel, Outsiders. It is available to pre-order on Kindle now and will reach your devices on 6th June. The paperback can be ordered for immediate delivery. Simply click Amazon UK.

DIY private investigation is not for the fainthearted. What could the inhabitants of a rural Essex village possibly know about hunting down and defeating a violent drugs gang?
Where do you start? Why would you even contemplate starting?
Unfortunately, for Julian Ashton and his tramp friend Wordsworth, they have no choice. Innocently embarking on a search for the missing teenage son of a friend, they become unwittingly drawn into a situation, which threatens their lives and more importantly, the lives of those close to them.
Suddenly, in too deep, there is no option to turn back.

For those who want to catch up on the story so far, the first book, From the Edge of an English Summer is available for just 99p on Kindle or if you prefer you can opt for the paperback. Edge of an English Summer

“The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself.” – Friedrich Nietzsche

Chapter 23 – The Impossibility of Denial

Alison stood before the sink, clenched her fists and pressed her nails into her palms. She scrunched her eyes tight until they watered. She tensed every sinew as if in hope that when she relaxed, the world would be different.

She needed a drink of water.
She hated herself. She hated John, she hated Stuart, she hated his disease and she hated that they both loved her and most of all she hated that she loved John.
Stepping back from the sink, she stood astounded at her thoughts and that for the first time, she’d admitted the truth to herself.

A tale of love and conscience written in 100 word chapters. If you wish to read prior episodes go to the category, “The Whole of the Moon”

Neither a Doffer nor a Doffee be

PHOTO PROMPT © Jan Wayne Fields

Carl was a stubborn man. He refused to doff his cap and inexorably, a situation would arise requiring such an act. Carl never lasted long in employment after one of these episodes.

Crazily, he didn’t need the work. His family was big in business and his inheritance was enough to support him dining on the finest, five lifetimes over.

But he rejected the money. He wouldn’t be doffed to either. If you decline to be doffed to and refuse to doff, you find yourself in a kind of a no man’s land.

Tough for the heir to a millinery empire.

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

A Breath of Understanding

Hi all, I’m pleased to announce, my latest book, Outsiders, is now available for Kindle pre-order from Amazon.
Due to the coronavirus lockdown the paperback proofs haven’t arrived yet, so whilst a physical copy can be ordered immediately, I’m asking people to hold off until I’ve had a chance to make sure the formatting etc is correct.

Now, onto today’s prompt, an old fridge.

 

 

 

 

 

 

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

“We can’t just dump it here.”
“Why not, the tip’s closed, what else are we supposed to do?”
“Keep it until the tip opens.”
“But that’s not until tomorrow.”
“Hardly the longest wait you’ll ever have.”
“But I like to get things done.”
“Can’t you see how selfish that is? You’re despoiling the countryside and it’s a danger to children and wildlife.”
“How’s it a danger to children?”
“They might climb in and suffocate.”
“Huh, you don’t need to be Houdini to escape that.”
“OK, show me.”
George smiled as he let the muffled cries subside before freeing his gasping friend.

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

DIY Private Investigation is not for the fainthearted. What could the inhabitants of a rural Essex village possibly know about hunting down and defeating a violent drugs gang?
Where do you start? Why would you even contemplate starting?
Unfortunately, for Julian Ashton and his tramp friend Wordsworth, they have no choice. Innocently embarking on a search for the missing teenage son of a friend, they become unwittingly drawn into a situation, which threatens their lives and more importantly, the lives of those close to them.
Suddenly, in too deep, there is no option to turn back.

Grand Opening

 

 

 

 

Copyright Dale Rogerson

Today was bound to be all go, but it’s more like impetigo, a sore rash of a day, seemingly without end.

I’m all for perfectionism, but hospital corners on table cloths for heaven’s sake? It’s snowed, so suddenly they’re not white enough. I had to reorder the centrepieces because a couple wilted overnight and poor chef has binned all he’d prepared. The soup’s over seasoned, the vegetables are cut too small, the spinach and ricotta ravioli not uniform enough.

Still, it’s her opening night, everything must be right.

But please, please stop snowing; God preserve us, if no one turns up.

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.

A Tramp’s Trip to Paris

 

 

 

 

 

PROMPT © C.E.Ayr

Bruno rummaged through the supermarket bins. “What have we got today? More ruddy tuna mayonnaise!” Delving deeper, he salvaged a baguette, “That’s better. Brie and cornichons. Dated just yesterday.” Pocketing the sandwich, he headed for the off-licence, but passing more bins, couldn’t resist another rummage, “Wow!”

Returning to the spot later with a bottle of red wine, he retrieved his find, a panoramic print of Paris by night. Propping it against the wall, he sat before it, uncorked the bottle and tucked into his meal.

Smiling, he announced to nobody, “But for the want of a Gauloise, we could be there.”

Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 words story based on a photo prompt. Hosted by Rochelle. Read the other entries here.