Kreative Kue 228

Kreative Kue 227 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.

They Will Come by John W. Howell © 2019

“Hey, you there. You by the gate.”

“Yes? What is it?”

“What do you mean what is it? That’s my gate, and you are messing with it.”

“Not messing sir. Fixing.”

“It doesn’t need fixing.”

“Oh, it most certainly does, sir.”

“How so?”

“Well first of all the gate sections are not level.”

“Yeah so? It looked fine.”

“Not if we are expecting guests, sir.”

“Guests? I’m not expecting guests.”

“Yes, sir. Second of all these hinges are almost frozen with rust.”

“Who cares?”

“Your guests will care if they can’t come through these gates.”

“You keep talking about guests. I told you I don’t have guests here.”

“That is about to change sir.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your farm has been declared the country White House.”

“Huh. Never heard of such a thing.”

“Well, we have the White House and Camp David. We now need a residence that recognizes the country folk constituents.”

“You are in marketing, aren’t you?”

“How’d you know?”

“No one else could come up with a hairbrained scheme like that. What makes you think I’m going to go for this charade?”

“Ten million.”


“Ten million cash for you to get out today.”

“Excuse me while I get my hat. By the way. You create it, and they will come. This is a really, really terrific idea.”

“Oh, I know. Been doing this for a long time. Where do you want your money deposited?”

“Wells Fargo in West Palm Beach. Got a little place down there.”

“Love your hair, sir.”

“Thanks. On sale at Costco.”

This week, from The Dark Netizen:

Microfiction: Wires

I looked up at the director
“Boss, this is the fifth time I’ve set up the gate and fence.”
The director looked at me callously.
“The shot wasn’t right. So, you do your job and I will do mine, to get the perfect take. Okay?”
He turned around before I could reply. The gate and fence were ready to be destroyed all over again. The director shouted at the stunt driver.
“Get in the van and do it right this time.”
I knew exactly where the stunt driver was hoping the soon-to-be-flying gate would land.

I agreed with his sentiments.

My effort was

Say what?

“You sure there isn’t an easier way of doing this, Nick?”

“Do you seriously opine that I would be expending energy digging under this fence by hand if a less arduous route to achieve the same result were available?”

“Knowing you, yes.”

“Wha… why are you expressing that assertion?”

“You just answered your own question, Nick.”


“For starters, I said ‘an easier way of doing it’; you had to say ‘a less arduous route to achieve the same result’. Then, instead of ‘what makes you say that?’ you ask ‘why are you expressing that assertion?’ You have a way of making the easiest job unbelievably complicated.”

“I would respectfully dispute your proposition.”

“Will you stop it?”

“What particular activity would you prefer I cease, precisely?”

“Precisely? Being a no—”

“Henri. I would prefer that you not resort to employing abusive epithets in such a deleterious manner.”

“It’s Henry, not Henri. I’m not French and I don’t have a poncy French name. I’m Henry, like eight kings of England. In fact, why don’t you call me Harry.”


“Coz I like the name, and you can’t mess with it. Why can’t you ever call a spade a spade?”

“Too imprecise, old chap. The term covers a veritable multitude of similarly constructed but functionally distinct tools used for digging or cutting earth, sand, turf and the like. Many people employ the word ‘spade’ when they really mean ‘shovel’. Do you really resent linguistic accuracy, Henri? Do you, perhaps feel threatened by it?”

“Harry, not Henri! And no, I don’t feel threatened, but I don’t like having to have a dictionary in my hands every time you open your mouth to speak. Why must you make everything so bloody hard?”

“Language, Henri, language.”

“Are you telling me off for swearing?”

“Not at all, my dear chap. Merely pointing out to you that language is important. Expressing oneself accurately displays intellectual respect for one’s interlocutor, whilst modesty of language; choosing one’s words in a respectful and measured fashion; demonstrates basic human empathy with others and an awareness and understanding of their sensitivities.”

“Is that available in English?”

“Oh, shut up and help with the digging. The bloody van keys are bound to be in there somewhere!”

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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