Twittering Tale #44 – 7 August 2017

It’s time again for Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls. Just take her photo prompt and write a story, inspired by it, in 140 characters or fewer.

Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution. Check out all the fabulous entries here.

Looking up, it saw a huge green eye.

It wasn’t the usual lady; it liked her body odour.

This one was pungent and rancid. Not nice at all!

(137 characters)

 

Love hurts

Unhand me woman! Let me be.

I’m leaving now, I have to flee.

I cannot stand another day.

You’ve hurt me so, in every way.

 

Unhand me now! Unless you stop

then I shall fight until I drop.

Unhand me now, I say again,

I cannot tolerate the pain.

 

Please let me be, just let me go.

I really used to love you so!

Now you have changed, or maybe not.

Perhaps I earned just what I got.

 

It may have been my fault, not yours.

Perhaps you really had just cause?

If that’s the case, then please forgive,

but let me go, please let me live!

 

(I have been happily married to my wife for 43 years now. In that time we have never been violent to one another – maybe the odd harsh word,  but not many!!)

Twittering Tales #42 – 25 July 2017

It’s time again for Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls. Just take her photo prompt and write a story, inspired by it, in 140 characters or fewer.

Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution. Check out all the fabulous entries here.

Reveille sounds at six they said
but who would dare to wake the dead
the bugle call was right on time
and Mary’s ghost arose sublime!

(130 characters)

• In 1851, the four-story Marshall House was built by Mary Marshall.
• It served as a hospital for soldiers toward the end of the Civil War, and during two yellow fever epidemics.

Dead or Alive?

I always thought, when I was young, I wouldn’t live to forty.

My Mother said I wouldn’t do if I was always naughty!

Yet here I am, a pensioner, exceeding expectation

and, now that I’ve passed 69, I look back with elation. 

 

I never thought that I would be a great success in life.

I only wished to have a job, and, maybe, take a wife.

Well, some successes came along, as husband, and as Dad

and very nicely my whole life has left me rather glad.

 

My Mum, of course, was always right; she often told me so!

Her all surrounding love was great , it gave a warming glow.

She’s now long gone, and so has Dad, and even my big sister.

But memories they linger on, and my, how we have missed her.

 

So, when I wake up each new day I thank my lucky stars.

I’m happy with my wrinkles, and with my many scars.

My Mum was right. She always was, as I’ve already said,

but wait a bit! I just woke up. Well, bugger me – I’m dead!

You’re Going To Kill Me

You may want to kill Ward Clever after having read this superb piece. That is if you haven’t died laughing!

Ward Clever

Warning: Reading this story will cause mental anguish and distress, blindness and rage. Consult a doctor before reading it.

Shelly Holeinfence had just changed her name from something ridiculous. She did this to win the affections of the object of her desire, or one of his friends. It didn’t work, so she moved deep into the Blue Ridge Mountains. Not, like, under them or anything, you moron, but a fair distance from any civilization.

And that’s when she saw the elves.

She saw them out her window one day, dancing in a fire. And a few seconds later, jumping around and howling in pain as the brighter elves danced around the fire while EMTs (elven medical technicians) attended to the burns. She tried to stay hidden from the elves, but they knew she was there, because it was difficult to hide a cabin in the middle of the mountains.

Over…

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Twittering Tales #35 – 20 June 2017

It’s time again for Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls. Just take her photo prompt and write a story, inspired by it, in 140 characters or fewer.

Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution. Check out all the fabulous entries here.

Excellent brandy!

The far tables were already disappearing.

He ordered another bottle, knowing full well that he would never have to pay.

(137 characters)

 

Twittering Tale #34 – 12 June 2017

It’s time again for Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls. Just take her photo prompt and write a story, inspired by it, in 140 characters or fewer.

Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution. Check out all the fabulous entries here.

Deirdrie was surprised, and more than a little disappointed, that Charles had misinterpreted her suggestion of a game of hide the sausage!

(138 characters)

Quid Pro Quo

I gave her quid

she gave pro quo

my new pet squid

she loves me so

she gives me hugs

with all her arms

with gentle tugs

she shows her charms

she loves me so

I’ve said before

she lets me know

she loves me more

she sucks my neck

she sucks my sides

but what the heck

she goes and hides

behind the chair

behind the shed

but she’s still there

I see her head

she likes to think

she’s one of us

she writes with ink

and takes the bus

there’s jealousy

from my dear wife

she fails to see

and gives me strife

she thinks I pay

too much attention

she doesn’t say

she fails to mention

she thinks I’ve gone

right off the grid

suggests a swan

instead of squid

but that would hurt

she’d get upset

if I did flirt

with another pet

I have to go

my squid awaits

she lets me know

that we’re just mates

but I know truth

I really know

my squid called Ruth

she loves me so!

Twittering Tale #28 – 2 May 2017

Kat Myrman has this wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls. Just take her photo prompt and write a story, inspired by it, in 140 characters or fewer.

Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution. Check out all the fabulous entries here.

They rose into the air as one, disturbed by the moans and groans of the last human survivors. They so looked forward to the impending feast!

(140 characters)

Leave it Jezza, it’s not worth it!

Kirsty, one of the few blogging friends that I know IRL, has a few views about politics. She gave up soaps some time ago. Now she plans to give up politics……..well, almost!

kirstwrites

Several years ago I remember waking up in a cold sweat after a nightmare about EastEnders. I think it was about Sonia Fowler – that sweet brainy trumpet-playing girl who fell in love with bad boy Martin after he’d accidentally killed her lovely previous boyfriend, then didn’t realise she was pregnant until she went into labour, gave the baby up for adoption but then had a breakdown and kidnapped the child back. 

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