Kreative Kue 322

Kreative Kue 320 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

Home by John W. Howell © 2021

“We finally made it.”

“What did we make.”

“I mean, we have finally arrived at our new hometown.”

“Looks kinda creepy.”

“Nonsense. The view from this hill is the best. It looks like the castle is all lit up, just waiting for us. All we have to do is go down the hillside, cross that main street, and go up to the castle.”

“I think easier said than done.”

“Oh, come on. We’ve come all this way. We are almost there.”

“Do you realize how far away the castle is from here?”

“Can’t be more than a couple of miles.”

“Listen to yourself. A couple of miles? That is like halfway around the world.”

“We’ve gone farther.”

“Yeah, but we had something to ride. We are on foot now. Tell me again why we had to leave the other place.”

“You know as well as I do that it became unsafe.”

“Oh, come on. You read those organic articles and think there a deadly threat on everything.”

“Did you try to walk across the kitchen floor?”

“Well, no. You scared me with your belief.”

“Belief? Didn’t you see the white line on the floor?”

“I saw what you told me to see. I can’t be certain now.”

“Let me tell you. That place was infested with poison.”

“Where’s the proof?”

“Didn’t you see the human in green toting that spray canister?”

“The one with O-R-K-I-N on his shirt?”

“He did look pretty out of place. Who names their kid Orkin?”

“That is a company name which means death to us.”

“One thing, I can’t figure out.”


“Why do humans go nuts when they hear our species name?”

“Our name must mean something frightening in their language.”

“Roach is the nicest name possible.”

“To you and I.”

“This castle?”


“How safe is it.”

“They never heard of Raid.”

Tien Skye, who blogs at From the Widow Seat offered this spooky tale. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

(Untitled) © 2021, Tien Skye

“I’m telling you, I saw Dracula! Count Dracula! He is in the topmost building in the town!” the woman sobbed. “I was with my sister and he attacked us. He tried to drink my blood! You got to believe me!”

The driver only stared at the hysterical woman and sighed. “Look lady, there isn’t any vampires in our town. That building is just our local tourist attraction.”

“No, please, you got to believe me!”

“Look, why don’t I drive you to your hotel?” The man offered. “Maybe you’ll find your sister in the hotel waiting for you,” he reasoned.

The woman only nodded, her make-up smudged as she got into the car.

The car drove out of the town and that was the last time anyone saw that car or the woman.

Three days later, the police found the dried up body of the man in his car.

My effort was:



“Eighteen what?”

“What do you mean, eighteen what?”

“You can’t just say eighteen; it doesn’t mean anything.”

“It would if you’d been listening.”

“Listening to what? You haven’t said a word for almost half an hour. Not that I’m complaining, mind.”

“Oh. Was I talking in my head?”

“Makes a change from talking through your—”

“There’s no need for that, Gerald!”

“You still haven’t said what you meant.”

“What I meant when?”

“When you said bloody eighteen, for fu—”


“Sorry my angel, light of my life; eighteen what?”

“I’m not talking to you until you calm down.”

“That’s the best argument I’ve heard for staying mad in a long time.”

“Do you want me to tell you or what?”

“Ooh! Do I get a choice?”

“Don’t try me, Gerald Ramsbotham!”

“You have my undivided attention, sweetheart. Tell me all about eighteen.”

“I don’t know if I want to now, not with the way you’re behaving towards me.”

“Suit yourself.”


“I said nothing.”

“You did. I saw your lips move. You do know I can do lip-reading, don’t you?”

“So why ask me what I said?”

“Because I want to know if you have the bottle to say it to my face, out loud.”

“And what is it you imagine I said?”

“There’s no imagine about it, Gerald. I followed your lips and you said ‘shut your face‘”

“Okay. Read my lips now. You. Are. Wrong.”

“Wrong? Impossible.”

“If you’re interested, what I said was suit yourself, not shut your face.”

“Just as bad.”

“Just as bad? On what planet are suit yourself and shut your face comparable? They mean completely different things.”

“Not to me, they don’t.”

“Hmm. That tells me what planet then. Your planet. Earth to Helen – they… are… different.” 

“Not talking to you.”

“I’m calm.”

“Still not talking to you.”

“Good. I like the quiet.”

“If you must know, I was trying to remember how old I was the first time I came here.”


“Just musing.”


“And what?”

“And how old were you, the first time you came here.”

“Duh! Eighteen.”



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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