Kreative Kue 265

Kreative Kue 264 asked for submissions based on this photograph:

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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.

Answers by John W. Howell © 2020

“Is there any way I can convince you to get that screaming baby out of my face?”

“He’s your new brother, and he wants to kiss you.”

“That is about the last thing on Earth he will do if he tries.”

“Oh, come on. You were excited when you heard you were going to have a brother.”

“That is before he got here with his smelly pants and milk barf breath.”

“Are we a bit jealous?”

“Jealous of something that has all the personality of third base at the ball diamond? Not likely.”

“But he’s just a baby.”

“I know, and when he gets old enough to fetch whatever I want him to get, he can stay that way.”

“You are being very hard.”

“I just think that if someone had asked my opinion before ordering him online, I would have at least had some say so in the situation.”

“‘Ording him online.’ That’s pretty funny.”

“What’s so funny. Are you saying babies don’t come from Home Depot?”

“No, they don’t.”

“Where do they come from then?”

“I . . . uh . . . er well, that is a long story.”

“Let me just ask one question.”

“Okay, but I don’t think you are old enough to understand the answer.”

“Trust me, I can deal with the answer.”

“Okay. What’s the question?”

“Does this kid come with a money-back guarantee?”

And from Kristian Fogarty, who blogs regularly at Tales from the mind of Kristian, this poem:

Not a time for kisses

All I want to do is play with my duck

but it seems as though I’m just out of luck

I’ve been picked up and squeezed by hands so strong

I don’t like it, I think it’s so rude and so wrong!

I’d tell them to stop it, but I’m tiny and young

and I can’t seem to get the right words off my tongue.

And now they are pushing me into a face

Can I not have some dignity in this place?

I know you’re my mother and she is my sister,

but can’t you understand, I don’t want to kiss her?

It’s definitely a nightmare rather than a dream

so all I can do is to start crying and scream.

My effort was

Composure

I don’t know quite what I expected
When I heard that my Mum was infected,
I was ever so sad
That Mummy was bad
And afraid that I might be neglected.

I must admit I was dejected
When she said that to keep me protected
She’d send me away
With neighbours to stay
So that I would not be affected.

To what horrors would I be subjected?
Would my needs be fully respected?
I felt cast aside
When the neighbour’s kid cried,
You could say I felt disaffected.

The little kid went uncorrected
So I did something quite undirected
I stayed in my place
Looked him straight in the face
And used the trick I had perfected

Now, all things are interconnected
And this baby never suspected
That although he’s neurotic
My gaze was hypnotic
And his anger would soon be deflected.

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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 keithchanning@gmail.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.