Phat!

Reblogging this for valentine’s because it’s just so damned romantic!

me.you.coffee

“Does my bum look big in this?” she asked after a while.

“Yes” he nodded, “just how I like it” he said with a smile.

“But I don’t. Don’t you know? I think it looks fat”

A grin crossed his face “hush! If anything it’s PHAT.

With a PH I mean, not an F, if you see, I told you before

you look gorgeous to me.”

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“Do a barrel roll”

It had long been a dream of Ted’s to barrel roll over the edge of Niagara Falls.

He’d never been much of a daredevil per se, yet this act of rebellion had excited him ever since he’d caught a TV Movie of the Week in 1974; The Great Niagara.

It had been done before though, and this was a problem. Ted wasn’t keen on leaving behind a legacy as “the clichéd old fool”.

It was a cold Sunday morning in February when Ted stumbled upon his single greatest idea. Or, to be more precise, Ted tripped over his kitchen chair.


Here’s a little 100-worder for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. Please feel free to comment, critique, like or subscribe for more!

Thanks for the kind words last week, folks. Apologies if I didn’t get to your stories, I’ll make a much bigger effort this week I promise!

Oh, and don’t forget to check out the other stories based on this picture.

mystery-chair-ted-strutz.jpg

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You Are Not My Leader

A good friend of mine is once again taking part in a community song writing event called FAWM.org. Having collaborated a few times over the years we decided to try again, so without further ado please take a listen to You Are Not My Leader.

Lyrics:

Don’t fill our heads
with all these lies
then ask the people
to decide.

Don’t turn your back
dare walk away
You lit the paper
and made us pay

Ripped apart
at the seams
the world I knew
now stands and screams.

You are not my leader

The books you read
were free to you
your sense of worth
has been abused

Fake news
Alternate facts
Fleet Street
Phone hacks.
Social news
24/7
You pray to God
But there is no heaven.

Your face and name
on everything
Turn off my TV screen,
turn off my stream

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June

Ever since she’d been little she’d harboured romantic notions of curling up by the fire with a steaming hot chocolate and a good book, every now and then turning to read aloud the bits that made her smile to the one she loved.

But it had been a long winter. There was no fire. No chocolate (hot or otherwise). The books had been read, sold & turned into sustenance.

Her wrinkled fingers shakily pulled the itchy blanket close to her chin. The ball of fur on her lap twitched an ear.

She closed her eyes as the bitterness kissed her lips.


Back once again after another hiatus. Here’s a little 100-worder for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. Please feel free to comment, critique, like or subscribe for more!

Oh, and don’t forget to check out the other stories based on this picture.

roger-bultot-flower

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Hornet’s nest

I’d only popped in for a quick coffee. She’d said not to bother, but what with everything I thought she’d be happy to see me. I’d even bought a few bits. A cute little sleep-suit, some nappies, that sort of thing.

Anyway we got chatting, well I did (she seemed exhausted) and we started reminiscing about the engagement party several months back. I’d asked if she remembered Marcus. She went really quiet. So I reminded her of the dancing, the drinks and the unexplained 12 minute toilet break.

How was I supposed to know, Dave, her husband, was in the kitchen?

 


Here we go with another 100 word picture prompt story for Friday Fictioneers. Check out the fresh new link for loads more from wordsmiths around the globe. Have fun, and if you liked it please let me know!

wasp-nest

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