Thursday, November 16, 2017


Post 1637. Thursday November 16

I quite enjoy being a statue, it’s great being able to watch people without them asking what I’m staring at.

Oh-oh, here come another lot, time to put on my stony-faced expression again...pardon the pun!

It was funny the other day, a bloke said to his wife ‘I wish you had a pair like that’ and he got a slap around the face!

Here come twenty old folk with the tour guide; “How interesting, goodness me, I say, well I never, that’s fascinating, isn’t she beautiful Doris?"

Wow, just look at him... try stroking my marble young man ...oooh, you cheeky boy!

Oh good, the lights are going out and it’s time to join One Tit Tina and Noseless Nick for our nightly chat, and Headless Harry too – no doubt he’ll be talking out of his ass as usual.

This week's cue word at Six Sentence Stories is Marble.


Wednesday, November 15, 2017


Post 1636. Wednesday November 15

As flames licked the smoke-filled sky, banging, crackling, and the sound of exploding windows filled the air.

A paramedic knelt beside a fire-ravaged man. ‘Up there, my little girl’ he whispered with his dying breath.

‘I hear something’ yelled the Fire Chief.  

‘Daddy, where are you?’

‘Look, there. We’ll never reach her, get the air cushion’

A terrified child climbed onto a window ledge, let out a chilling scream and jumped.

In a garden where an apartment block once stood, a young lady places flowers on a bench and strokes the words carved in its backrest.

Daddy, you passed me on your way up to heaven they read.

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting and J Hardy Carroll for the photo.

Tuesday, November 14, 2017


Post 1635. Tuesday November 14

I should have seen
the writing on the wall
but I didn't

I never asked
when she came home late

I never asked
when she took those calls
from whom

she’s left, but why?
no warning, no reason
no note

this morning a kiss goodbye
as usual
quite normal

now her things are gone
everything except
her ring

she’s gone
but where, who with ?
what went wrong?

I should have seen
the writing on the wall
but I didn't

Word count 78

Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting and any1mark66 for the picture.


Sunday, November 12, 2017


Post 1634. Sunday November 12

When bickering turned to bitterness they went their separate ways. Whilst she continued to enjoy their lavish lifestyle, he descended into a pit of deep depression. A shadow of his former self, he spent his empty days wandering the streets dependent upon the generosity of the caring few, yet invisible to most, his once stylish attire now frayed scruffy clothes and a filthy coat tied with a length of knotted cord.

No soft bed for him, not for years. At night he had a few hours restless sleep in a shop doorway, before shuffling off at sunrise. But the other morning he was still there when the shopkeeper arrived to open the store. Thinking him to be asleep, she gently nudged his frail body. He fell to one side, never again to wake. That evening a single red rose lay on the spot where he spent his final moments.

This morning a street cleaner swept up a limp flower as it tumbled along the pavement in the chill winter wind.

Word count 169


Thursday, November 09, 2017


Post 1633. Thursday November 9

For the uninitiated, The Great British Bake Off is a baking competition and one of the most viewed programmes on UK television!

On day one I baked a fruit cake which tasted horrid, but the judge thought it was fantastic, so that was OK.

On day two I baked a pie but I couldn’t find twenty-four blackbirds so I made do with a dead pigeon that I found by the roadside.

Day three I made scones like cannonballs, day four I knocked up a loaf of bread that needed a chainsaw to cut it and on day five I made half a dozen buns thinking it was day six.

Day six I tried making meringues, and I did that thing where you check if its thick enough by holding the mixing bowl upside-down over your head, but I ended up looking like a human snowman.

On day seven I had a day off and on day eight I made my showstopper, a cake that should have looked like a bunch of roses but ended up more like a pile of doggy-doo.

On day eight I was declared the winner, which was unsurprising since I was the only contestant and also the judging panel, but I’m really proud of my achievement.

The cue at Six Sentence Stories is Baked.


Wednesday, November 08, 2017


Post 1632. Wednsday November 8

Friday Fictioneers

As I jumped from the bus holding my wife's shopping list, the wind snatched it, slapped it against a car windscreen and it was gone. I needed to phone home but being desperate for a pee, I thought I’d call from the public loo. Whilst attempting to single-handedly dial, I dropped my mobile into the toilet. The auto-flush kicked in and it was gone.

I decided to drown my sorrows a the pub.

'This list just landed on my windscreen' I heard a bloke say to his friend.

Ah, that’s mi........’  I shouted, knocking over my beer as I watched him throw it on the log fire.

I walked out and got the next bus home.

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting and Marie Gail Stratford the photo.

Sunday, November 05, 2017


Post 1630. Sunday November 5

What utter balderdash! That fellow would have me believe a machine will one day take the place of the portrait artist’s palette and brushes.

I reluctantly gave him a chance. He led into a darkened room where I was told to sit perfectly still on a chair. He then stood behind a tree legged mechanical contraption, flung a black sheet over his head and bent down. Then, my dear, another chap stood behind him holding a peculiar device on a stick. Would you believe it, the wretched thing flashed brightly and billowed smoke into the air.  I was near blinded and almost choked to death.

He wants me to return tomorrow to view the result of his endeavor. No, my dear, he is wrong, so wrong.  Next, he will suggest that a machine will one day replace my pen and ink! What absolute poppycock.

Word count 142