Monthly Archives: January 2015

Jan 28 2015
17 Comments
Writing

Get a man in

I’d been on at him for years about that wiring.

He said I was moaning, that he’d had enough of it at work all day and that when he came home all I did was nag. I wasn’t nagging. I didn’t think so anyway. I just wanted it fixed. It was an accident waiting to happen. He knows that now of course.

I got a man in, in the end. All done within 20 minutes. He said that if I’d left it much longer there was a chance someone would electrocute themselves.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him.

Great photo this week from Ted Strutz, I do hope this little tale does it justice. Thanks to Rochelle, as always, for hosting and for all your feedback and love. I’m looking forward to reading what you have in store.

on-on-off

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Jan 21 2015
57 Comments
Poetry, Writing

Terry, Jeff, Colin and Bob

Terry, Jeff, Colin and Bob went to sea in a rancid boat.
They took some jerky and plenty of Bud,
all wrapped in a t-shirt (covered in mud.)

Colin looked over to Bob on his left,
as they nodded then bellowed an ode to Terry ‘n’ Jeff.

“O’ Terry and Jeff, Teff and Jerry, what wonderful friends you are,
you are, you are, you are.”

Then Terry looked at Jeff and Jeff looked at Terry,
before both of them sicked-up on Bob’s shoes.
Yes both of them sicked-up on Bob’s shoes, his shoes.
Yes both of them sicked-up on Bob’s shoes.

Another week another slice of Friday Flash Fiction over at Rochelle’s blog. This week I bring you this piece of randomness based purely on the fact that the Owl and the Pussycat jumped straight into my brain-box when I saw the photo.

I can but apologise to what I have done to that wonderful nonsense poem.

boatpilxr_-antiqued

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Jan 14 2015
35 Comments
Writing

After breakfast

“After breakfast,” he whispered. “I’ll do it after breakfast.” And there I left him, standing by the window, procrastinating over what was to come. I paused by the open door, turning to offer a final piece of unwanted advice. “The longer you leave it,” I began. “I know,” he interrupted. “I’ll do it after breakfast.”

I stood for a moment, staring at the back of his head, willing him to turn and face me.
He never did.

I watched, trapped by my own silence, as his chest rose before he exhaled and his shoulders slumped.

“Goodbye,” I thought I said.

dining-room

Happy New Year, everyone. Apologies for being absent for a few weeks (did you miss me?) but family commitments, festive laziness, work and many other excuses have caused me to not be here and worse than that, they’ve restricted the time I would normally spend commenting on your lovely pieces. I intend to put that right this month, and hope to consume as many of your Friday Fictions as possible.

Something a bit different from me this week. Do let me know if you like my departure from the usual silliness I spout!

Don’t know what Friday Fictioneers is? Get yourself over to Lady Rochelle’s blog to find out more!

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