Kreative Kue 220 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.
“Now let me get this straight. The guy comes over and asks what you would like to drink.”
“Yes about an hour ago.”
“You tell him,’ Surprise me.’”
“Yup that’s what I said.”
“He then brings you what?”
“A gin and lemon. It’s right here. I tried it.”
“You didn’t like it?”
“I told him that.”
“What did he do?”
“Went off and came back with a glass of white wine.”
“You haven’t touched it.”
“I know. I don’t like Chablis.”
“How do you know it’s Chablis?”
“He told me when he plopped it on the table.”
“So you said what?”
“I don’t like Chablis.”
“What did he do?”
“Came back with that beer over there.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“A pale ale. Too bitter.”
“Why didn’t you just tell him to bring you something you like.”
“I did. I said, ‘Get me a draft.’”
“He did. That’s what I’m drinking.”
“So are you enjoying your party?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Seems like a hassle so far.”
“I can imagine given the struggle over a drink. What are you going to eat for dinner?”
“Humm. Surprise me.”
Tien Skye, who blogs at From the Widow Seat offered this short tale. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
“I’m telling you, you gotta take her in hand or she is going to ride over you. At our age, when we retire, we are nothing. She is going to lord over us because we are useless while she is still going on and about,” Kevin droned on.
Jonathan was looking and smiling politely at Kevin but he had tuned out Kevin’s words a long time ago. He had known Kevin for 50 years but he never realised just how much Kevin could talk.
“I’m very sure she will slowly take advantage of the situation and next thing you know, you are at her mercy.”
If anyone needed pessimism, Kevin could surely give a healthy dose. Jonathan resisted the urge to yawn as Kevin’s voice faded into the background. How did they become friends 50 years ago?
Good grief that man could talk!
My effort was
“How long have you known?”
“Not long, Bro, just a couple of weeks.”
“But you’ve suspected it—”
“For about six months.”
“Why have you left it until now to say anything?”
“Couple of reasons, really. Firstly, it was only a suspicion; I didn’t have any evidence, leave alone proof…”
“Didn’t think it was my place.”
“But I’m your brother!”
“What’s that supposed to mean – even so? Even so what?”
“Look. If I’d come to you when I first picked up on the rumours and presented it as facts, what would you have done?”
“Looked into it? What do you think I would have done. If you’d given me what you had and made clear it was just rumours with nothing to back them up, I would at least have been prepared.”
“Yeah, right. You would have been on the lookout for any behaviour that might possibly substantiate the rumours.”
“You know how rich diagramming works, don’t you?”
“And if you’re diagramming a complex system, what symbol do you always put in one of the top corners?”
“Obviously because by observing something you have an effect on it.”
“And that is because?”
“That’s because if there are people involved, they will act differently if they suspect that they are being observed.”
“Thank you. I think you’ve made my point precisely.”
“You think I can’t observe something without the people involved suspecting it?”
“I don’t think it, I know it.”
“But now I know about it, and it’s not just a rumour any longer, it shouldn’t matter if I’m caught observing.”
“Now you know, you don’t need to observe. Now you know, you can deal with it head-on.”
“Is that what you think I should do?”
“No, I don’t, but I know how rubbish you are at this sort of thing, so you might just as well.”
“No. Thanks for telling me, Bro, but I’ll try to ignore it. She’ll be disappointed if I don’t act surprised, especially after she’s worked so hard to organise it for me!”
“Happy birthday, Bro. I think she’s about to ask the DJ to announce that what you thought was a fundraiser is, in fact, your birthday party! Brace yourself.”
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.