Kreative Kue 239 asked for submissions based on this photograph:
“Who turned up the fog machine?”
“I was going to ask the same question.”
“Boys. Take it easy. The air just got a little warmer than the snow, so fog is formed.”
“Thanks, pop, but the information doesn’t help us see any better.”
“That’s just it. It doesn’t matter about the visibility. I’ve been over this area hundreds of times. It’s flat as a board. No fear of falling into a crevasse.”
“You just said ass. Heh, heh.”
“I just said a word that stands for a crack in the Earth’s crust that could be dangerous should you fall into it.”
“Heh, heh, heh.”
“You said crack.”
“Okay, let’s just keep on walking.”
“Where are we going?”
“I’m glad you finally asked. We are heading for Bald Mountain.”
“There is an old gold mine that I think will be pretty interesting.”
“Wow, that sounds exciting. How long till we get there?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Are we lost?”
“No. I just don’t know where we are exactly.”
“I see now why you named this expedition the way you did.”
This from Na’ama Yehuda, who blogs at https://naamayehuda.com :
The sky was blue when they headed out. Crisp, cold, dry, and sunny, it was the perfect day for some easy back-country skiing.
They planned to be home by lunch.
They did not plan on the weather turning. On clouds so low and so fast that they’d reached zero visibility in almost no time at all.
Joshua could see that Daniel was two steps away from panic. That would not do. Not with the children with them.
“Take the rear,” Joshua ordered.
If Daniel frowned at his bossy tone, the heavy fog covered it. Joshua stood his ground, literally, till Daniel maneuvered his skis so he was behind the two youngest. Good enough.
Joshua took a breath and tried to get a read from the weather. It was probably best to shelter in place till the fog lifted, but if the weather was about to get worse, it was better they got back before conditions deteriorated further.
There was no way to know for sure, but his gut’s tightening signaled that the latter option was the one to take. His hand tightened around the compass hanging from his pocket. He’d need it.
“Mark! Sally!” he cupped his hands and called for the two older children who, true to form, used any break in skiing for a snowball fight. The wind snatched his voice and he realized that it, too, had gotten worse in the last few minutes.
“Daniel, get them!” he shouted. “Timmy, Ronny, Sid, and Shirley, stay close to me.”
Shirley nodded and clung to his arm. “Are we going to Avalanche?” her voice shook.
“Avalanche isn’t a place, honey,” he replied over the thunder in his chest. “It’s when a lot of snow slides down the mountain. We’re not in an avalanche zone, so you don’t need to worry.”
“But it’s all white,” she sniffled, “and I’m cold.”
“I know, little one. The weather turned on us. We’ll get everyone in line and we’ll get moving and you’ll soon get warm. Timmy, Ron, and Sid, you okay back there?”
The boys nodded unconvincingly.
Daniel herded Mark and Sally closer to the rest and sandwiched them between the younger children and himself.
“Let’s go!” Joshua yelled, his voice barely audible in the whistling wind. “Keep your eyes on the person in front of you. Daniel, use your whistle if you need help.”
Daniel lifted his ski in response.
Joshua concentrated on the compass, on the next few steps. Everything he loved in this world was behind him. The white settled all around and he felt small. Like when he was ten and the world had come down around him in a tumble.
He shook the memory away.
This time he was not going to Avalanche.
He was going to get them — all of them — home.
My effort was
“STOP. Everybody stop.”
“What’s up, Dad?”
“Straight ahead. Either there’s a Polar Bear right in front of us or my name’s not – erm. Oh, no!”
“What’s up, Dad?”
“I can’t remember my name.”
“What d’you mean, you can’t remember your name.”
“Who said that?”
“Do I know you?”
“Course you do. I’m your son.”
“I have a son?”
“Okay, Dad. You’re scaring me now, and I don’t want the rest to start – you know what they’re like.”
“Got you going for a while there, didn’t I?”
“Yes, Dad, you did. Now, what’s this about a polar bear?”
“It’s a big one, Son. Deserves capital letters.”
“Okay. What’s this about a Polar Bear?”
“Can’t you see it ahead? Big and white.”
“Might be the abdominal snowman.”
“Do you mean Abominable Snowman?”
“The Abominable Snowman, if it exists, is in the Himalayas, not the Alps.”
“And Yeti’s stood right in front of you.”
“So it seems.”
“Be nice, Dad. Go up to him, show respect and offer him your hand.”
“I did – and he bloody took it. How can I hold my sticks now?”
“I’ll hold ’em for you.”
“You need to hold your own, Son.”
“How am I supposed to hold my own against a bloomin’ polar bear – sorry, Polar Bear?”
“Alright – bored now.”
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 email@example.com 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. Following a family bereavement, I shall be in Florida for a week and shall not be able to produce a Kreative Kue. This Kue will, therefore, remain open until Sunday 16th December with the results being displayed the following day.