Kreative Kue 215

Kreative Kue 214 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.

Clear by John W. Howell © 2019

“Where are we?”

“Somewhere south of Tulsa.”

“Damn. When is this fog going to clear?”

“Yeah, I wish I knew. My eyes are killing me from the strain of trying to look through it.”

“Is that car stopped up there?”

“No, he is moving. Just slowly.”

“I guess we should do the same.”

“You backseat driving?”

“I’m right here in the passenger’s seat. Front seat driving.”

“Okay, so I’ll slow down. No use running up his bumper.”

“Lucky we have those lines.”

“At least I can keep it in the center.”

“What is that guy doing now?”

“Pulling over it seems.”

“Just go on by.”

“What if he needs help? We are in the middle of nowhere.”

“Always the good Samaritan are we?”

“What if it was you there all alone. Wouldn’t you want someone to stop to help?”

“Okay then, pull over. I just hope it’s not a mistake.”

“Here we go. I’ll just stop behind him.”

“You get out. I’ll stay in the car.”

“Okay. Be right back.”

“I sure hope he knows what he is doing. Oh, here he comes.”

“Well, they are okay.”

“So, what are they doing stopping?”

“Just changing drivers.”

“Oh, well, that seems logical.”

“I’m putting on my signal and pulling out.”

“You sure they are okay. I didn’t see anyone in the car as we passed.”

“They are not very big.”

“What do you mean not very big?”

“When they are changing spots you can’t see them.”

“Okay, now I’m confused.”

“Let’s forget it okay?”

“What is the matter with you. Who was driving that car?”

“A dog. Well not driving just steering.”


“The cat was operating the pedals.”

“Quit joking.”

“I’m not.”

“We should call the police.”


“A dog and cat driving a car is dangerous.”

“I thought they did a good job.”

“You going to call or should I?”

“No need I’m telling you.”

“Okay convince me. Why is there no need?”

“The guy in the backseat said he had everything under control.”

“Not from the backseat would he have everything under control.”

“Well, he can’t do the driving.”

“Why not?”

“He’s had too much to drink.”

“That’s it. I’m calling.”

I’m delighted to welcome one of my followers from India, who blogs regularly as The Dark Netizen.

Misty Road

Visibility was almost zero.

That was all thanks to the misty road. It lived up to its name. It was my bright idea to come for a joy ride here. The intially clear road had become mist laden within minutes.

I could see nothing around me. I was hesitant to go any further and heading back was not an option on this mountain road. I decided to rely on the tail lights of the car in front of me. I could only be astonished at the confidence and skills of the person driving that car.

In some time, my engine began sputtering and my car came to a halt. Cursing my car, I slapped my steering wheel. To my surprise, the mist began clearing as fast as it had appeared. I gasped in shock as I realized my car stood right at the edge of a cliff. As I calmed myself down and reversed, I had only one question in mind.

Where had the other car gone?

I’m also delighted to welcome Tien Skye, who blogs at From the Widow Seat offered this amusing tale. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Tail Lights by Tien Skye

Tension mounted as Doyle and Laura sat in their car.

Luck loved tricks.

The mist rolled in just as their target drove off, hiding the fact that they were following him. They were just behind their target’s car and judging by the route the target took, the journey would be quite a while. Doyle could feel the tension reaching a fever pitch in him and Laura was eerily silent, her eyes staring intently at the red tail lights floating in front of them.

“Laura, why don’t we just stop for a while?”

“Shut up and drive,” she snapped. “follow him as closely as possible. We can’t lose him!”

“If we don’t stop, Laura, something bad is going to happen,” he warned. “I mean it. Why don’t we just explain to him?”

“Doyle Kennard Royston.”

He shrank under Laura’s frosty tones and withering look.

“Something bad is really going to happen,” he hated his own whimpering voice.

She kept silent. And he kept following their target.

A long sound of flatulence echoed in their car.

“Doyle Kennard Royston!”

“I told you!”

“By the gods, it stinks! Pull over and let me out! And tell Carson to pull over and wait for us! Good lord it stinks!”

My effort was

Not the foggiest…

If there is a story here
It’s not one I can find.
Between the fog and dirty screen
I’m mostly driving blind.

My wife and I left old Jaipur
In simply awful weather
To catch our flight in New Delhi
(Let’s say my wife’s called Heather).

We had been told and do believe
That pea-soup fog’s not rare,
We should expect no break in it
Until we’re in the air.

But what a way to end a tour
Of wonders old and new
Aggra, Jaipur and New Delhi
To mention but a few

And as they say where I come from
That’ll have to flippin’ do!

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 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.

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