Twittering Tales #138 – 28 May 2019

It’s time again, for Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge, to write a story, inspired by her picture prompt, in 280 characters or fewer.

Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution.

Check out all the fabulously creative entries here and, if you’ve never had a go, why not try a story of your own? You may surprise yourself!

movies-4218919_1280Photo by Moritz 320 at Pixabay.com

My mind was a complete blank for this prompt. Not unusual for my mind to be blank, but I can normally dream up some weird linked tale. Well, not this week, so I let my mind run a little bit wilder and came up with this little poem which is, I hasten to add, entirely a figment of my weird imagination. HONESTLY! Also, it fails miserably to come within the correct count.

All is ready, what a lark
hands unsteady, oh it’s dark
tripod mounted, camera fixed
film all counted, cocktails mixed
off with tops and let’s get snapping
I love swaps but not the slapping
All gone home, the films are printed
all alone I stared and squinted
Some may say I’m sad and lonely
Come and join us, ah, if only!

(311 characters)

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Twittering Tales #122 – 5 February 2019 – It starts with one word…

It’s time again, for Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge, to write a story, inspired by her picture prompt, in 280 characters or fewer.

Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution.

Check out all the fabulously creative entries here and, if you’ve never had a go, why not try a story of your own? You may surprise yourself!

classic-1834499_1280-1It starts with one word bt can’t contine mch frther becase this keyboard is tterly seless.
Jst how can I seflly se it?
Have yo not heard? Some stpid person called Trmp has decided to ban one of the letters!
He says it is nconstittional, and shold not be sed.
It’s jst pre rbbish.

Fck!

(279 characters)

The fly.

A fly came in and flew around, he buzzed this way and that.

It caused near apoplexy for my parrot and my cat.

My parrot said, “now bugger off”, my cat spoke not at all,

She was too busy flying round and bouncing off the wall.

 

My parrot said “I did not know that you could really fly.”

The fly, misunderstanding, said, “it’s just how I get by!”

The cat, meanwhile, was leaping up and down across the room.

The fly was sure to get caught soon and then would meet its doom.

 

I thought that I could help things out, and maybe swat the fly.

The parrot squawked, and grabbed the cat, and said “here let me try.”

The fur was flying all around, the cushions were all scattered;

The dogs walked in and chased  the bird, and fly, and cat, all tattered.

 

Now, dogs, and cat, and bird, and fly, were chasing round and round.

It made me oh so giddy that I fell down to the ground.

I tumbled round and round and round, and slowly I arose,

when very much, to my surprise, the fly flew up my nose!

 

Very soon the cat arrived, determined to give chase.

She tried her best to catch the fly but merely scratched my face.

The cat was closely followed by the dogs, and then the bird;

The situation really was becoming most absurd!

 

The outcome of this saga was determined by my wife.

She smacked me on the nose, and thus she ended all the strife.

The fly was done, it was no more, all thanks to our dear mummy;

I sniffed, and swallowed; down it went, it ended in my tummy!

Flower Power, or a wandering mind!

I wandered lonely as a cloud,

but hang on mate, is that allowed?

I’m sure that’s one too many thrills.

We’re talking golden daffodils!

 

A crowd beside a lake, and trees,

all smoking pot and popping e’s;

The waves beside them danced with glee

and drowned the boss’s effigy.

 

A poet, gay, or maybe straight,

whilst passing through the garden gate,

reclined on couch, in pensive mood,

and all his friends thought him most rude.

 

But now his heart o’erflowed with pleasure,

displayed his love and took his measure,

and, as he rose above the crest,

declared those daffodils the best!

 

With more than a little nod towards:

I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud

 

BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
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