Microfiction Monday #72

Every Monday, Susan at Stony River gives writers a picture prompt, and a generous allocation of 140 characters including punctuation and spaces to come up with a story

“You guys ever wonder how your shoes get those holes in their soles? I drop them in for you, that’s how!” 

ACTION . . . . and . . . CUT!

Every week, Monkey Man allows us just 160 characters, no more, no less and including spaces, to tell our story.  It's a tough one Monkey Man, but here goes . . .

Someone at her door! Lurking. Lurking, and breathing. Heavily. She

sat up in bed, fumbled for her Glock pistol, held it trembling, watched the door begin to ope

(Damn it! Sorry, folks, that’s me at Monkey Man’s 160 character limit . . just when it was getting interesting, too!)

The Truth Will Out. Or Something.

It's Friday again, so enthusiastic bloggers must answer the call of G-Man and produce a story in 55 words maximum for his Friday Flash 55 . . . .

The day Little George pushed the Washington's privy into the river, Mr.Washington asked, 

"George, who pushed our privy into the Potomac?"

"Daddy, I cannot lie. I did."

Whereupon Daddy gave George a thrashing.

"Why, Daddy?" cried George "You said you'd never punish me if I told the truth."

"Because, George, I was inside, taking a dump."

(55 words)

Monday's Child#34

Ever since that PG Tips commercial, chimps have been wondering . . .  thanks, bkm, for the prompt reminder

"Imagine that!  Using her hand to hold a teacup!  What does she think her feet are for?"

Microfiction Monday #71

Susan at Stony River gives us a haunted prompt. 

"O.K, Chief. You won the bet, wrecked the tubroom!  You can run, but you can't hide. I'll haunt you. I'll fry your brain, too - you hear?"

(138 characters)

Flash Fiction 55. 18th. February 2011

Every week, G-Man (aka Mr.KnowItAll) invites fellow-bloggers to condense the story in his picture prompts to a maximum of 55 words.

A Greek Professor of Anatomy tests the theory that "the thigh bone's connected to the hip bone." Like all good scientists, he knows that he must duplicate his experiments. He also knows it will be easier to investigate thin subjects rather than fat ones. So he chooses anorexics  - who, not unnaturally, resist stoutly.

(55 words)

Microfiction Monday #70

Susan at Stony River offers a prompt with a St.Valentine's Day slant.  But the day is almost over and it is time for lovers to face the harsh realities of life in no more than 140 characters

"Why is Chas sitting by himself?"
"He ate all the baked beans while we all were making love."
"Better if he sat downwind then, surely?"

Poetry Bus 14th February

Dana Bug gave poets three prompts to encourage them to buy a ticket for the Bus this week.  This picture is one of them.

Stopping By Settees on a Snowy Evening

(with apologies to Robert Frost. And his little horse)

Whose couch is this? I think it's lost.
Who threw it out? What did it cost?
It has not seen me stopping here.
It's arm-rests are all stiff with frost.

My motor-chair thinks I am queer
to stop because a couch is near.
I always do a double-take
when snowbound sofas do appear.

It gives my ass a gentle shake
to ask if I've made some mistake.
But frozen couches make me weep.
I'd thaw them with a long, slow bake.

Its pattern's lovely! Cushions deep,
a couch I'd really love to keep.
But - miles to go before I sleep -
So! Leave it for the rubbish-heap.

Flash Fiction 55. 11th. February 2011

I think I must need some new glasses,
for truly I cannot quite see
how to stick one up Rosie O'Donnell

before she sticks her one up me!

(27 words . . . so readin' it twice is only 54!)

Every week G-Man, aka Mr.KnowItAll, invites those with built-in short-circuiting brains to condense life's bitter and delusional experiences into 55 words or fewer.  Mine here was inspired by his HERE.

Monday's Child#32

A village market scene is bkm's prompt this week.

Hamelin Town is in Brunswick . . .

 "Pied Piper, can you help us please?

These wretched children always tease

us when we bring our goods for sale,

our cabbage, caulis, curly kale."

"What is your problem, Mrs.Green

with kids? The sweetest I have seen.

They run about and skip and play

add merry laughter to the day."

"They bluddi don't you silly man!

They should be locked up in the can.

Their sticky fingers pinch our wares

our apples, beefsteaks, cakes and pears."

"You rid the town of all those rats

that put the wind up pussy cats.

Please, if you'll pipe these TinyVermin

We'll deck you out in cape of ermine.

We'll swathe you quite from heel to head,

half in yellow and half in red."

"You horrid woman! You've got me frowning.

You'd dress me up like Robert Browning

in his ghastly kiddie kidnap did?

You make me want to flip my lid!"

"I think I could persuade stall-owners

to pay you well. Say . . fifty kroner?

"Madam, you've now stopped being funny.

There's nothing I won't do for munny!"

But the wretches lived up to their name.

They saw right through the Piper's game.

Around the walls of Hamelin

runs River Weser. They chucked him in.

Microfiction Monday #69

Once again, Susan at Stony River challenges our imaginations to produce a story centered on this picture in a maximum of 140 characters including spaces. Yikes!

Haven't we all been fobbed off with lame excuses . . . . ?

TicToc Clocks? Ginsburgh here

Ah - Mr G! Your clock. A Problem?

The 7! It’s a 2 upside-down, you prat!

Er . we live in topsy-turvy times, Sir.

(139 characters)

1984, Here we come . . or

 . . a step towards Newspeak!

I'll say no more than 'have a look at THIS!' One the one hand, you can have a good old snigger at the sort of thing linguists and practitioners of semantics get up to in the interests of absolute precision. On the other hand, you might try shaking in your shoes when you weigh up the effect THIS could have on your poetry and stories - which are "expository" writings that depend on creating associations as much as on conveying "meaning" - whatever "meaning" means!

Here's an example. In E-prime, you are not allowed to say "The daffodil is yellow." Why not?  Because the sentence does not directly imply a sentient being OBSERVING the daffodil, and since "yellow" exists in the mind of such an observer and NOT in the daffodil, the sentence (to E-prime philosopher-linguists and associated lunatics) is meaningless! Ooerrrrr!
Now translate this well known bit of poetry into E-prime.

"To be or not to be, that is the question"

Flash Fiction 55. 4th. February 2011

G-Man invites all writers, including the maladjusted and the terminally confused, to write a 55 word story -

Breaking News.

"Pheidippides! Run the 26 miles to Athens. Tell them the Greeks walloped Persia in the Battle of Marathon.  Got that?"

 "On my way, Captain!"

 So Pheidippides ran, arriving, reeling with fatigue in Athens, 2 hrs. 24 mins later.

 "What news, Stout Pheidippides?"

 "Pheidippides?"

 "F**k!  I've forgotten the message. 'Ang on, I'll nip back”

Note
2 hrs. 24 mins was a pretty good time for 490BC!

Magpie#51

This week Willow prompts us to "Follow a Shabby Brick Road."

I chewed my pencil all night before deciding I couldn't compete with these two in a Silly Pomes About Bricks contest . . . (sorry, Willow)