Kreative Kue 289

Kreative Kue 288 asked for submissions based on this photograph:

John W Howell is a multiple nominated and award-winning author who blogs at Fiction Favorites. Details of John’s books can be found on his Amazon author page

Blinded by the Light by John W. Howell © 2020

“I would say tear it down, sir, but it is three hundred years old.”

“I mean, everything was fine until yesterday.”

“What happened yesterday?”

“I went about my normal day.”

“How’s that look?”

“Well, let’s see. Got up, took the dog out, had coffee.”

“Sounds like you’ve covered the first hour at best.”

“Well, now just hold on. Ah, yes. While I was walking the dog, I noticed an unusual burn in the field over there.”

“Uh-huh. Go on.”

“I just thought it was weird. A circle burned in the field.”

“How large a circle?”

“That’s not the important part, but I would say twelve feet.”

“That is pretty big.”

“Anyway. I went over to have a look. The burned part smelled like lavender.”

“That’s odd.”

“I thought so too. I turned to leave and was blinded by a light.”

“Don’t tell me. You were then revved up like a deuce, another runner in the night.”

“Teah, very funny. You want to hear this or not?”

“Sorry. Go ahead.”

“Okay, then it felt like I had a boulder on my shoulder.”

“You tripped on a merry go round.”


“Nothing. Continue.”

“I finally figured out I was being abducted by aliens.”

“Okay, sir. Hold it right there. I came here to give you a bid on the roof. I’m not one to hold to conspiracy theories and stuff like that.”

“This is the truth.”

“I can’t handle the truth.”

“Calm down. As you can see, I’m here. The only thing that happened is we all got into some kind of drink. Then this girl told me she could turn me on to something strong.”

“They played the song with the funky break.”

“How’d you know?”

“It’s a song lyric, sir. Excuse me, I gotta get going.”

“We razed the roof.”

“I’ll say you did. Now I need to get into my curly whirly. Have a nice day, sir.”

“Wait. You haven’t heard the best part.”

“Sorry. My mama always told me not to look in the eyes of the sun. Bye.”

“Too bad he’s gone.  He’s going to miss seeing the calliope crash to the ground.”

My effort was:

What a night!

“I love this time of year.”

“You’re joking, right? How can you possibly like storms like the one we had last night?”

“Didn’t you enjoy it?”

“What’s to enjoy?”

“The lightning lighting up the night sky, the thunder rolling around around the hills like massed military bands in a massive drum roll, the sweet, sweet rain feeding the land. How do you suppose everything stays so green in this region?”

“The estate agent said that it hardly ever rains here; that all the green is due to underground springs fed off the volcanos.”

“Yeah. She gives that line to everybody – especially foreigners who come from, well, other countries.”

“And how many fall for it?”

“That’s the delicious part – all of them!”

“So you enjoy the lightning. You enjoy being kept awake all night by the thunder and having to trudge through a sodden, puddle-filled lane to get anywhere. Really?”

“Did I say that?”

“You implied it.”

“Those were just reasons you might come to  enjoy it. Mine is a very different reason.”

“So what’s your reason? Why do you like this foul, violent, stormy stuff?”

“What’s it say on the side of my van?”

“Your name, Jimmy Smythe.”

“And what else?”

“Your trade – roofer.”

“Got it yet?”

“Of course not. I would have thought being a roofer would mean you’d be rushed off your feet at the worst possible time of the year.”

“And so I am.”

“So why do you like it so much?”

“Look at it this way. Every autumn, for one month, I’m rushed off my feet, as you say. I have more work than I can do in a normal day, so I work sixteen or sometimes twenty hours a day repairing roofs in cold, wet, windy conditions.”

“And yet you claim to like it. Why?”

“Because in that month I make a year’s money.”

“So that means what?”

“That means for eleven months I’m on holiday. Now, are you going to help me rebuild your roof, or what?”


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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