SPF: Oh captain

SPF: Oh captain

214 10 October 15th 2017

I love my job. I was the captain on one of those posh cruises that you knew people had spent thousands on. Everybody wanted my attention whenever they saw me on board and would clamour to get those souvenir photos.

The evening meals were entertaining because I got to pick the people at random to let sit at my table. I used to watch with ever-growing amusement at the people vying for my attention.

My favourite parts were the announcements I made to the entire boat every evening. I knew that people were going to listen intently to every word that I said but I also knew that they would understand none of it. The degrees and the latitude meant absolutely nothing to those people who were just passengers and not members of the crew.

Tonight there was something different about what I had to say. “Good evening ladies and gentlemen, we are travelling at…” I paused for dramatic effect. “What do you mean we are sinking?”

The screams and panic of all the people as they ran towards the lifeboats made me chuckle. Like I said, I love my job! Saying that though, this was probably my last day.

Written for Sunday photo fiction

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FFfAW: The stowaway

FFfAW: The stowaway

This week’s photo prompt is provided by BarbCT/Gallimaufry. Thank you BarbCT!

The boat was finally leaving shore and the stowaway allowed herself a sigh of relief. It was going to be all right at least until the next time the boat docked. By then, she hoped, she would have travelled far enough to escape what she needed to.

The abusive marriage had become even more intolerable when the ever-present threats of violence began to come from the people she had once called friends.

Getting on the boat had been a spur of the moment decision when she had noticed it loading on the nearby port.

Finally, she had a future.

Word count: 100 words

Written for flash fiction for aspiring writers

SPF: Just a myth

SPF: Just a myth

Egypt© Kathryn Forbes 2009

I was an archaeologist working in Egypt to discover the ancient burial grounds. Now, we all know all the myths about those so-called curses that follow these tombs around. I have to say that I believe it is nothing but a load of old nonsense. Designed, I am sure, to stop people going in and looting the place for the treasure we all knew was buried beneath our feet.

The maps had all been studied and I knew exactly where I wanted to go digging. It was not one of the pyramids because I was not looking for one of those pharaohs. Instead, my goal was to find the burial site of a noble.

The only thing I wanted to do was to see a sarcophagus in the place where the Egyptians had intended it to spend eternity.

When we broke through that final wall our excitement was almost palpable. Understandably, quite a lot of the team instantly went for the treasure but I only had eyes for one thing. How beautiful it was. I mean, nothing like the brilliantly decorated face of Tutankhamen, but still beautiful.

My admiration turned to fear when the face I was staring at blinked.

Written for Sunday photo fiction

SPF: Daddy, what’s that?

SPF: Daddy, what’s that?

213 10 October 1st 2017

The toddler was walking around the room with the usual brand of curiosity that a child of that age has. “Daddy, what’s that?”

“Granddad’s desk.”

“What’s that?”

“Granddad’s notebook.”

“What’s that?”

“Granddad’s chair, and look at this, it even swivels around!” The daddy pulled the chair so that it spun around and was stunned by what he saw sitting in the upholstery.

The toddler pointed excitedly. “Daddy, what’s that?”

“It’s a fox. Don’t go petting it though, because foxes belong in the wild and not in somebody’s house. They are not pets.”

“Oh.” Clearly disappointed, the child just gazed at the animal that seemed to be staring back towards him. He frowned in confusion. “If it isn’t a pet, why is it here?”

“No idea.” The father put his head around the door. “Dad? Did you there is a wild animal sitting on the chair in your office?”

“Yep.” The older man walked into the room and looked down at the animal. “I think it looks rather comfortable there, don’t you?”

“Why would you want it to be comfortable?”

“Relax, I am saving it from the hunt. Poor thing was on its own. I’d rather it was comfortable then dead.”

Written for Sunday photo fiction

SPF: One with nature

SPF: One with nature

2012 09 September 24th 2017

She looked out of the window and smiled. The garden had been completely covered in a quilt of leaves as the autumn had really taken hold. It was her favourite time of year when everything is at it prettiest. Everywhere seemed to be covered in gold and red of some of the leaves yet clinging to the branches. It was like everything was preparing for the winter that was going to come. The leaves were keeping the ground warm so there was no way that she was going to sweep them up. That was a pointless task anyway.

Gabriella walked into the garden just to watch natures preparation. If it was a fascinating process because it was almost like everything was preparing itself by getting rid of everything old. It was making way for the new growth that would begin after the winter had long gone.

Her gaze lingered at a spot beneath one of the larger trees in her garden. Thoughts turned elsewhere as she briefly considered if the blanket of leaves was keeping the body of her husband cosy. Not that she cared at all. Out with the old, in with the new. Gabriella was one with nature.

Written for Sunday photo fiction

FFfAW: The light of life

FFfAW: The light of life

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Pamela S. Canepa. Thank you Pamela!

“Every lighted window represents at least one life,” he said to nobody in particular as he lounged on the balcony of the hotel opposite. He could have told you exactly how many windows he was talking about because observation was one of his strong points.

His attention, however, was focused on one window only and the shadowed form walking about within the room inside. His heart sped up as he watched the unsuspecting female get undressed before climbing into bed.

The light went out.

Reaching down, he lifted the sniper gun. Now to make sure the light was out permanently.

Word count: 100

Written for Flash fiction for aspiring writers