I Know What I Like!

copyright – Dale Rogerson

Grandma helped herself to another slice, “What’s this? Don’t mind if I do have another.”

She winked conspiratorially at little Suzie, who giggled.

“Garlic bread, Mum,” said Arlene.

“No, what’s it really?”

“Garlic bread, like I said.”

“But I don’t like garlic.”

“I can assure you it’s garlic.”

“Not real garlic though. Not like they have in France and places.”

“It’s real garlic like they have abroad, mother.”

Suzie giggled again, ‘grandparents are funny,’ she thought.

“It can’t be. I know what I like and I know I don’t like garlic, never have done.”

“OK mother…Another slice?”

“Go on then.”

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

Rockpool Memories

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Seb set his brush down and scanned the faultless sky. “Enough blue to make a dress,* as you used to say mother,” he chuckled. His literal child logic at the time, always thought it would be an extremely large dress or there would be a ton of left over material.

He picked up his brush again and on the shore, he painted a beautiful lady sitting on a towel watching a little boy, net and bucket in hand, clambering in and out of the rock pools.

Seb sighed, “There you go Mum, we’ll call this one, ‘Enough blue to make a dress.’”

*I believe the correct version of this expression is, ‘enough blue to patch a Dutchman’s breeches.’ I grew up with Mum’s versions of all the colloquial sayings.

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

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?

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.