Kreative Kue 305 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
After all by John W. Howell © 2021
“Okay, Trevor. Explain yourself.”
“It has been a hard week.”
“Yes?”
“And most everything I have tried hasn’t worked.”
“Like what?”
“Chased that confounded rabbit, and he left me in the dust.”
“Yeah, So. There are more rabbits.”
“Went after a chipmunk.”
“And?”
“He bared his teeth, and I ran.”
“Nothing wrong with that. Those things could be rabid.”
“The possum just fell over dead when I approached him.”
“I think he was faking.”
“Even worse. He fooled me.”
“I guess he did. What else.”
“Lost my favorite ball.”
“I picked it up and washed it.”
“No wonder that thing didn’t smell right. I can’t find my tuggy toy.”
“It is in the living room. I just stepped on it.”
“I think I have fleas.”
“You don’t have fleas. You are protected. So where is all this going?”
“I’m going to end it all. Got my head in the oven.”
“Hate to tell you, dear boy, but that’s the dishwasher.”
“I’m telling you this has been one of those weeks.”
“You can get out of there now.”
“When’s dinner?”
“As soon as you get out of there.”
“Done.”
My effort was:
No place for old dogs
“Are you sure you don’t need some help?”
“No. I think I can manage.”
“What are you looking for?”
“Our bowls are in there.”
“They’re empty, aren’t they?”
“Yes, but…”
“But what? If they’re empty, there’s nothing in them to eat – that’s what empty means.”
“Have you never gone back to your empty bowl and licked it, just in case there’s something there?”
“Not often. I usually do that to yours, in case you’ve left something.”
“And have I? Ever?”
“Not so far, but you might, one day. And when you do—”
“You’ll be ready?”
“You bet your sweet cheeks I will! But what are you hoping to find in there? The bowls are empty.”
“But there are plates and dishes in there. Haven’t you noticed, the don’t lick them clean like we do.”
“You can’t lick them!”
“Why not?”
“It’s human food; goodness only knows what you’re likely to be licking at.”
“It’s food. What more do you need to know?”
“Is it good?”
“You bet! They ate well yesterday. You have to watch the green plates, though.”
“Why?”
“Hot, hot, hot. Curry or something.”
“Can I come in and try some?”
“No, you can’t.”
“Why not?”
“One: you’re too old, two: you’re too big and three: I called it first. I’ll tell you what. I’ll let you come in when I’ve finished.”
“But there won’t be anything left!”
“Precisely.”
“Oh, go on. Don’t be a meanie.”
“Okay. Anything to stop your constant whining!”
“Thanks. Now, where are they?”
“At the back. Can’t you see them?”
“It’s dark. Go on, help me find them. You know I can’t see much with these dogaracts.”
“Just sniff them out, then.”
“I lost my sense of smell before my eyes went dark.”
“You’ll be telling me next that your hearing is going, too.”
“Pardon?”
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.
Rory Rogerson is 67; an overweight, unfit, retired ‘protection officer’ (that’s PC for hired muscle). He is also a prolific and, by his own reckoning, successful author of crime fiction.
