Kreative Kue 205 asked for submissions based on this photograph:
John W Howell is the author of the John Cannon trilogy of My GRL, His Revenge, Our Justice and Circumstances of Childhood, co-author of The Contract, and blogs at Fiction Favorites.
Gone Girl by John W. Howell © 2019
“Papa come quick. Someone has taken Seal.”
“What do you mean taken?”
“She and I were minding our own business, and this brute of a man came and grabbed Seal.”
“Can you take me to him?”
“Of course. Follow me.”
“Not so fast, Angel. I’m more than twice your age.”
“Okay, here we are. Look down there.”
“Oh my gosh. He has her in his hand.”
“I know Papa. I think he might crush her.”
“I wonder what he intends to do. I’ll tell you this though. If he harms one feather on her head, I’m coming for him.”
“How about us taking a pecking run at him.”
“He might harm Seal.”
“I think we could surprise him.”
“too risky. I’ll fly down and see if there is any negotiation possibility.”
“Be careful Papa.”
“Pssst. Seal can you hear me?”
“Oh yes Papa, I can. Where are you?”
“I’m just behind the giant’s head where he can’t see me. Are you all right?”
“I’m just fine. The giant has some delicious seed.”
“You mean you are not a hostage?”
“No. I’m sitting on his hand eating some seed. He came to where Angel and I were playing and put out a finger. I hopped on, and here I am.”
“Can you fly away?”
“Then do it.”
“And give up this seed?”
“For heaven’s sake, I’ll get you all the seed you want. Just come home.”
“Okay then. Let’s go home.”
“You ought to be spanked, young woman.”
“I told you never talk to strangers.”
“He’s not a stranger. He lives here and puts out seed for us.”
“Still, humans are hazardous animals.”
“I thought he was sweet.”
“That’s cuz you’re an innocent bird.”
“You know humans eat birds don’t you?”
“Ew. They do?”
“I’m sorry Papa I won’t do it again.”
“That’s my girl.”
“What kind of birds do humans eat?”
“Those big old chickens and Turkeys.”
“Ew. Let’s get home so I can take a bath.”
“Come on Angel we need to go home.”
Daima Hussain is co-author of Charda Suuraj, a blog that aims to represent Pakistan culture from real Pakistani viewpoint (and features some delicious Pakistani recipes, too).
“Where on Earth did you get these ghastly clothes, Westley?” The man addressed his query to the bird on his hand. He glanced down at his attire with a grimace of disdain. “Oh, the things one must suffer in the name of king and country.”, he sighed melodramatically.
“Oh, shut it Knightley, at least you didn’t have to transform into a bird. And those clothes will make you blend in with the locals.” The bird replied in a posh tone, looking irritated (if is possible for a bird to look irritated).
At this Knightley smirked and agreed, “At least there’s that. How the mighty have fallen! However are you managing Westley? Stonlak told that the time he was transformed to an eagle, his feathers itched terribly. But then again, at he was an eagle – a noble bird – not a sparrow.” He sniggered, taking mean-spirited amusement in his colleague’s discomfort.
“This form is best suited to the mission objective Knightley, I am not a man who shirks his duty. And may I remind you that I am your superior on this mission, please treat me with the respect due to my station.” Westley replied stiffly.
“At least I didn’t get my position on the Force handed to me on silver platter due to my status of birth. I was promoted to Force Captain on my own capabilities.” Knightley sneered, an ugly look full of both disdain and envy on his face.
Westley the bird, was interrupted before he could defend himself, as at that moment, a disembodied voice spoke up, “T-minus 5 minutes to deployment, Agent Alpha, Agent Beta, report position.”
Immediately the man and bird seemed to come to attention, all traces of irritation or anger gone from their postures. The bird replied first, “Agent Alpha, Codename Westley reporting, code delta-1b48723I489632, ready for deployment, Sir!”
The man followed, “Agent Beta, Codename Knightley reporting, code delta-8h9564E4329795, ready for deployment, Sir!”
The voice replied, “Area is clear, no hostiles, primary scouting was a success, target is at Theta position. Agent Westley, you know your duty. Agent Knightly, do not interfere with the primary objective, observation only.”
The man and bird stood in complete silence as the time ticked down and soon the command was issued.
Meanwhile, my effort was:
I found this little bird
And I know it sounds absurd
But I caught her eating berries from a bush
She pooped when I first held her
I could tell the fruit was elder
By the colour of what came out of her tush
She’s a black cap, I can see
Juvenile, she has to be
Yes, I know that by the colour of her head
It’ll go black when she’s older
Just the top, not from her shoulder.
If I’d left her in the tree she might be dead.
I grabbed her on a hunch
That the hawk was after lunch
Did I say a hawk was clearly on the hunt?
Some words I mustn’t use
So a better one I’ll choose
Let’s just say a rescue seemed well worth a punt.
I’m aware I’ve saved her bacon
By the chance that I have taken
But I must decide what we should do with her
If it’s safe to set her free
Then I think we’ll all agree
I should do it now, and not succumb to dither.
On to this week’s challenge: Using this photo as inspiration, write a short story, flash fiction, scene, poem; anything, really; even just a caption for the photograph. Either put it (or a link to it) in a comment or email it to me at firstname.lastname@example.org before 6pm next Sunday (if you aren’t sure what the time is where I live, this link will tell you). If you post it on your own blog or site, a link to this page would be appreciated, but please do also mention it in a comment here.
Go on. You know you want to. Let your creativity and imagination soar. I shall display the entries next Monday.