Kreative Kue 306

Kreative Kue 305 asked for submissions based on this photograph:

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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?”


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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.

Sunday serialisation – Rory (ret’d) 13.1

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.

Penny (60) is his headmistress wife and Charlie Watkiss is the bloke next door.

Together, they make a formidable team!

Rory (ret’d). Chapter thirteen, part one.

During the months that followed, RRW Investigations landed a reasonably good number of paying clients, mostly pre-divorce surveillance and a few background checking jobs for collections agencies. That our name was getting out there for people like that wasn’t too bad but it wasn’t the kind of work we really wanted. Apart from anything else, the income was nothing like enough for any of us to give up our day jobs – not that any of us wanted to, but it would have been nice to have been able to make that choice other than through necessity. Okay, I know what you’re thinking, we netted forty-two million each – why would we need to work? I’ll tell you. We all enjoyed what we were doing and would only stop it to do something we enjoyed more. Sadly, stalking people to take photos of their indiscretions was not more enjoyable than what we were doing already.

With Meredith’s approval, we offered Billy and Alan employment but they both refused. Billy was preparing to go to university where, incredibly, he was planning to study forensic science and criminology whilst Alan was working towards his A-levels and hoping to follow Charlie into IT security. So they both had plans that would fit well with what we’re doing and we eventually agreed that we would sponsor their studies in exchange for occasional work during their down-time. Contractually, Billy became my apprentice investigator and Alan was Charlie’s apprentice data and information analyst.

One afternoon, after Charlie and Penny had been in conference over the accounting systems for a couple of hours, they walked into my writing room together. Charlie gave a little cough. I looked up. He had a very sheepish look about him, his left hand was holding his right elbow and he was rocking on his toes. I looked at Penny. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was long and deep, as though trying to calm herself.

“How did it go?” I asked, nonchalantly.

“Okay,” Penny said, “but—”

“We’ve got something to tell you,” Charlie interrupted.

“Something we should have told you a long time ago,” Penny added.


If you can't wait for the rest, Rory (ret’d) is available as eBook or paperback on Amazon UK, Amazon USor search your preferred Amazon store for B088RF9HNW

Random Limericks 33

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© Can Stock Photo& damedeeso. Used with permission

A series of (non-acrostic) limericks produced in response to various prompts.

These will appear on Saturday mornings wherever possible.

Let me know what you think.

 

SYSTEM

for Kristian – https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2021/03/27/system/

I think I have worked out the system;
The rules were quite clear, but I missed ’em.
I just have to say
To sell on eBay,
You won’t move your things till you list ’em.

HIT

for Kristian – https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2021/03/28/hit/

My latest book must be a hit,
I put so much time into it.
You’ll either be keen
For the best you have seen,
Or else you won’t like it a bit.

BOSS

for Esther – https://esthernewtonblog.wordpress.com/2021/03/29/laughing-along-with-a-limerick-52/

If your company runs at a loss
The person to blame is the boss.
You have to work wonders
Whilst he commits blunders
And lives in the world of Pangloss.

PURITY

for Kristian – https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2021/03/29/purity/

It’s said that an excess of purity
Is a sign of a deep insecurity.
At the end of the day,
I’d rather that way
Than descend into total obscurity.

RUMPLED

for Kristian – https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2021/03/30/rumpled/

I once had a best friend called Fred
Who dressed up a lot like a Ted
A bicycle chain,
Flick-knife and toy train
Were found in his rumpled bedspread.

THUMBS

for Kristian – https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2021/03/31/crumbs/

Twas a feeling revealing and healing;
When I broke the cake; I heard it squealing.
I picked up the crumbs
With fingers and thumbs
And ate them while I was still kneeling.

ACCURATE

for Kristian – https://talesfromthemindofkristian.wordpress.com/2021/04/01/accurate/

We’re all in a serious plight
As COVID and Brexit we fight.
And most of the stories
That come from the Tories
Aren’t accurate, and surely aren’t right.