LICKABLE LOTIONS

WEDNESDAY 20th JANUARY 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~ Lickable lotions

LICKABLE LOTIONS 

by John Yeo

  Farmer Ben Jones had worked as a successful sheep farmer for many years. A short stocky man with a ruddy, weather beaten face that reflected his years of coping with the ups and downs of working as a successful livestock farmer in all weathers. 

The farm was located on the hilly terrain of North Wales and subject to extremes of weather conditions from fierce winter winds with driving rain, to beautiful spring sunshine, encouraging fresh green grass where his flock could contentedly graze. 

The large flock of sheep with their lambs were expertly controlled by his three well trained, energetic, intelligent border collie, sheepdogs, Meg, Shep and Spot.

  His pretty wife Betty, a tiny lady, whose stature didn’t reflect her ingrained toughness, had trained as a vet, before she married Farmer Ben and became a full time farmers wife and a mother to their 15 years old son James. 

  One day Spot began licking one of his front paws more than usual, whimpering quietly to himself, James came in from the yard having fed the dogs, this was part of his daily routine. 

    ‘Hey Dad! what’s  up with Spot? He keeps licking his front paw and he’s not himself.’

    ‘Farmer Ben looked up and grinned, ‘Well spotted son! You’re learning fast. Your Mum has been looking after him with some of her TLC.’

     ‘That’s right James, I think he has a slight infection on his foot pad and I’ve plastered it with some of my special lotion.’ said Betty.

 James looked slightly puzzled at this and exclaimed! ‘Surely it’s no good if he keeps on licking it away. Is it safe?”

 His Dad proudly smiled and said, ‘Don’t worry son. Your Mum knows what she’s doing.’

  Betty patted him on the back and said, ‘Good point James, I used a safe lickable lotion that will do no harm to Spot’s insides. I will renew the lotion later and dress his paw overnight so he can’t lick it off again. I didn’t want him to run around for the rest of the day with a bandage on his foot.’

  Farmer Ben and James then made a special visit to make a big fuss of Meg and Shep, while Betty was caring for Spot. 

© Written by John Yeo all rights reserved.

JELLY JUNIPERS

TUESDAY 19th JANUARY 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~ Jelly junipers

JELLY JUNIPERS 

by John Yeo


We picked a basketful of sumptuous junipers for jelly,

An ancient remedy for arthritic and rheumatic ailments.

In the Middle Ages, junipers supposedly cured the plague.

Jellied junipers, reputed to be a cure-all for colds and flu, could be a defence against all viruses, old and new.

Jelly made from juniper, a reputed health superfruit, should be prescribed as an added weapon in the ongoing fight, alongside the proven scientific research and experimentation
in the armoury to counteract and help to destroy this ongoing blight.

© Written by John Yeo

FUSION FORESTS

MONDAY 18th JANUARY 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~ Fusion forests

FUSION FORESTS


by John Yeo

   There were six of us in the party led by the esteemed Professor Williams, Peter Woods, a famous ornithologist, Leyla, and Sadie, with her best friend Betty and myself, Jamie Cook.

   We’d been trekking through thick jungle for days, searching for rare new species of wildlife. We pitched our tents alongside an impressive lake with a magnificent waterfall hurtling down into the lake from a rocky incline.

  The lake was still at sunset, after the wildfowl and the birdlife had gone to roost. Silence replaced the noisy sounds of the prolific wildlife, vying for food and personal space. Darkness was descending on the shrubs and trees around the banks of the lake as the sun disappeared. Nocturnal wildlife was slowly appearing. Nighthawks spread their wings, calling in the nearby trees as they ventured out on their hunting forays after dark. Bats were fluttering their wings, searching for insects, using echolocation, their powers of ultra-sensitive hearing, for guidance. 

  ‘They seem to be flying from within the waterfall!’ exclaimed Peter Woods. Clouds and clouds of bats were filling the evening  skies.     ‘There must be a cave in the rocks behind the waterfall. Bats hibernate in caves, they generally stick to water where they like to feed on insects, even fishing them from the surface of pools.’

    ‘We will certainly explore the waterfall tomorrow morning,’  said the Professor.

The next day dawned with a cacophony of sounds from the jungle dawn chorus. We decided to explore the waterfall immediately.

  It was an onerous task for us all, as we climbed the slippery, quite steep, rocky cliffs. We discovered a large aperture in the rock face, partially hidden, somewhat obscured with a thick wall of soaking jungle vegetation. Peter and I, with the help of the Professor, soon hacked a passable entrance to what appeared to be a series of large caves hollowed out of the interior of the rocks.             

   The amazingly beautiful sight that greeted us will always be indelibly engraved on my mind forever. Illuminated by the light of our torches were thousands of pink and aquamarine-coloured stalactites hanging from the roofs of the caves. Sadie and Betty were soon snapping away images on their mobile phones, Leyla gasped, ‘Forests of wonderful stalactites, fused together they’ve probably been growing here for thousands of years,’ 

 There was a powerful obnoxious smell as the floors were covered in guano, obviously the droppings from the thousands of bats roosting in the gaps between the fused stalactites.

  The Professor and his team wrote up their discovery of these incredible fusion forests to great acclaim from the academic world.

The caves became a world heritage site.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

TIMID TOM

SUNDAY 17th JANUARY 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~TIMID TOM

TIMID TOM

by John Yeo

  Tom had a story that he wanted to share with the world. His eyes were forever searching the literary terrain, looking for inspiration within the turmoil of his mind. The story began to be formed, moulded and was soon coming together. He fought hard against his own personal harsh critical resistance. Always pushing onwards with a sharp insistence expressing his feelings in an explosion of words. He was always searching for perfection, fighting against a passive resistance. Always honing, rewriting, editing and subtly improving, it seemed publication would be forever postponed. One day he overcame this unexplainable timidity by typing his manuscript online and pressing the send button.

 Timid Tom is now well known as his words were read and appreciated by the online community. The moral of this story is if you keep something to yourself it will never reach anyone.

© Written by John Yeo all rights reserved.

KNOBBY NOSES

SATURDAY 16th JANUARY 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~ Knobby noses

KNOBBY NOSES


by John Yeo

Welcome to the venerable society of Knobby Noses 

Our members are distinguished by a common feature 

Which the powerful nasal pathway to the brain exposes.

~

Our years of careful scientific investigation proposes

High intelligence is gained through Nature not Nurture

Welcome to the venerable society of Knobby Noses.

~

Each cell on the bumps along the pathway encloses

Powerful intellectual pulses blending into the future

Which the powerful nasal pathway to the brain exposes.

~

The questions and implications this discovery poses 

By joining our society you become another seeker

Welcome to the venerable society of Knobby Noses.

~

Every lump, every bump, every knob clearly discloses

The heights and the depths of our high Supernature

Which the powerful nasal pathway to the brain exposes.

~

This revolutionary discovery makes our knobs explosive

Every bump and lump becomes an accomplished teacher

Which the powerful nasal pathway to the brain exposes.

Welcome to the venerable society of Knobby Noses.

© Written by John Yeo  ~ All rights reserved.

MUTTVILLE MASSACRE

FRIDAY 15th JANUARY 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~ MUTTVILLE MASSACRE

THE MUTTVILLE MASSACRE


by John Yeo

  The long winding pathway led to a collection of kennels. A weather beaten sign was nailed to the gate. ‘WELCOME to MUTTVILLE’.

     A cacophony of loud barking greeted us as we approached. My wife Martha, flicked her long brown hair from her eyes, grinned and said, ‘Sounds like we’ve arrived.’ 

 We were looking for a replacement for Pixel, our Border Collie house dog, who’d sadly passed away suddenly, a week ago.

   ‘Hardly any need for that sign, with the noisy welcome we received on the way in.’

  Martha pulled the car up outside the gate and we entered the yard on foot.

  We were welcomed by the owner, Rosa, a smiling vivacious young lady with long auburn hair tied up in a ponytail. 

I have to admit to having strong reservations about replacing Pixel, I had been incredibly close to that dog and in my mind he was irreplaceable. I found excuses to reject dog after dog for a variety of reasons. The last kennel contained a solitary young dog who was curled up in a corner ignoring us all.

  Rosa said, ‘Meet Mist, a new arrival, he’s just settling in and is wary, unsure of everyone. He was a stray found on the moors, we were going to call him Mystery, but he only answers to Mist.’

   I softly said, ‘Hi Mist!’ 

   His ears pricked up as he leapt forward, wagging his tail furiously, he licked my hand and rubbed himself against my leg. With that I knew we’d found our new member of the family. Mist had simply massacred all my reservations. Martha just grinned and patted Mist on the head, she received an excited nuzzle in return.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

THE TEAR KEEPER

THURSDAY 14th JANUARY 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~THE TEAR KEEPER

THE TEAR KEEPER


by John Yeo

   Joey Johnson was a carefree lad, just 20 years of age with the world at his feet, Joey was training to be a police officer. 6′ tall, with a shock of thick curly brown hair, cut short to comply with police recommendations, he had sharp blue eyes that didn’t miss much. He enjoyed his training and his future prospects looked good until one fateful, unforgettable night that altered his life irrevocably.
  Joey was on the way home late, after a busy night, suddenly a man loomed up out of the shadows and shouted, ‘This is for your *******  interference.’ Joey vaguely saw a large man wearing a mask with a hoodie pulled up over his head. The man quickly tipped a bottle of liquid that splashed  over his head and face, temporarily blinding him. There was a fierce burning sensation that quickly got worse, his face felt as if it was on fire.

   The acid attack was horrific, Joey screamed, penetratingly loud, as pain raced through his head. Skin was burnt to shreds from the structure of his face, Joey’s crowning glory, his hair, was burnt off in seconds. He passed out and was raced to the burns unit at the local general hospital. By a miracle his sight was saved, although his tear ducts had dried up and he would never cry again.
  One year later after many operations by plastic surgeons some semblance of normality returned. Joey refused to be seen in public and became a recluse. He left our town and disappeared, it was rumoured he had joined some gypsies and was travelling the countryside by caravan. One day Lisa, our daughter, came home from school very excited, “Daddy the circus has come to town!”
Saturday night we had the best seats in the big top and Lisa was laughing merrily at the antics of Joey the clown. He came to speak to her and Lisa asked “Why did you become a clown Joey?” 

    His painted smile never altered, the smile that was the gateway and the keeper of the impossible tears of a clown.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

WARM WINTER CHILLI

WEDNESDAY 13th JANUARY 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~WARM WINTER CHILI



WARM WINTER CHILLI


by John Yeo

 When a January day dawns with a cold chilly morning

There’s a spicy way to set your taste buds on fire

With fiery, warm winter chilli, it’s magic performing.

~

Taste is a sense of highly sensitive savouring

The sharp flavour and warmth with that chilli desire

When a January day dawns with a cold chilly morning.

~

A passion for food is exploration, taste discerning
The taste buds reflect a different sensation supplier

With fiery, warm winter chilli, it’s magic performing.

~

The heat spreads rapidly as the chilli starts burning

Providing more heat than you can possibly require

When a January day dawns with a cold chilly morning.

~

 Beware, the warm winter chilli can be habit forming

An antidote to the freeze with a heat magnifier

With fiery, warm winter chilli, it’s magic performing.

~

The antidote to bland cold taste buds is reforming,

Encouraging the body thermostat higher and higher 

With fiery, warm winter chilli, it’s magic performing.

When a January day dawns with a cold chilly morning.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

HOT CHILLI PEPPER

by John Yeo

A passion for food is exploration, 

When taste buds react to a different sensation. 

Sweet things can tingle with extra flavour, 

The sharp taste of citrus can be something to savour.

Add a chilli or two to a steaming pot,

Then the taste buds shout loud,

HOT!~HOT!~HOT!

In American English, “chili” is the most common spelling for the spicy peppers as well as the stew and hotdog topping. In British English the preferred spelling is “chilli.” In Spanish speaking countries and regions of the US, “chile” is the most common variant. 

Warm and chilli are a contradiction in terms.

Heat is generated by the introducing warmth

JACOPO ISLAND

TUESDAY 12th JANUARY 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~JACOPO PRISCO 

JACOPO ISLAND 

by John Yeo

  The press conference was well attended, with representatives from several of the national newspapers and a few reporters from regional papers.

 There was a presentation of sketches and photographs on display of a substantial rocky landmass located in a sunlit sapphire sea. There was a large indentation in the centre that was a natural lake with a channel leading to a bay that formed a natural harbour.

    ‘First things first Ladies and Gentlemen of the press. My name is Captain Prisco, I own that super-yacht moored in the harbour. We have just returned from the Indian Ocean, where my island is located.’

    Mike Molloy, an ebullient Irish reporter employed by the Daily Torment, a national tabloid newspaper. ‘You are referring to this discovery as your island Captain? How can you lay claim to an island for yourself. Surely you should be claiming it for the nation?’

   ‘My friend I have discovered this paradisiacal island, exactly 101 miles off the coast of Tango, located in the South Pacific Ocean. Even now as we speak, several members of my crew are in residence guarding my property. I have laid claim to this new land and I propose to sell shares to anyone interested in the future development of my island.’

  There was a sudden loud general hubbub as questions were fired at Captain Prisco, a short, stocky man with a shock of sandy coloured hair.

 A large familiar-looking man raised his hand and shouted.

    ‘Peter Swinburne, from the Daily Scare. Supposing you are overruled by the government of Tango and the island is confiscated. How do your investors know they will be able to get their money back?’

    ‘Mr Swinburne, my word is my bond and I guarantee to refund all monies that will have been invested in my property. I have the financial backing of a leading worldwide firm in the futures investment industry. This will be a first class investment with the minimum of risk. I have been assured by a member of the Tangoan government that this new island is just outside their territorial boundaries and is open for development. I have agreed to allow the Tangoan government a full half share of any future profits.’

    Another voice shouted a question, this time it was a lady reporter. ‘Geraldine South, from the Seaview Independent local paper. I would like to know how much of these future profits will be invested locally in these Isles.’

    Captain Prisco smiled and replied. ‘There is no question that this government will receive substantial funds in exchange for protection from marauding pirates and gangsters. I have been assured this is possible and a feasibility study is underway as we speak. Of course the bulk of our trade will be with tourists and businesses from here. Holidaymakers will flock there, the ultra-wealthy will build their homes there.’

   A tall distinguished looking man then stepped up and said,

   ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, I have to bring this press conference to a close now. I am a lawyer representing Captain Prisco, I would appreciate it, if all further questions could be directed to my office. I propose to leave a pile of my address cards at the back of this hall.

 The next few weeks were exciting as far as Captain Prisco was concerned. Money was flooding in from interested investors as speculators queued to get a piece of the action. The funds were quickly channeled into building projects and advertising.

   The news came through as Captain Prisco had a meeting scheduled with the press to announce a public naming ceremony of his new island. The island was to be named Jacopo island after his son and would be officially recognised by all concerned.

   Reports came in of the power and devastation caused by a fierce hurricane in the South Pacific Ocean. Weather forecasters  had named this powerful storm, Hurricane Esmeralda, a name that would forever be indelibly imprinted on the mind of Captain Prisco

 Within days the Captain and his crew were travelling at full speed towards the Tango islands in the South Pacific following a spate of reports of the devastation and the loss of life caused by the hurricane, there was a lack of news after a while due to the power lines that had been severely damaged by the storm.

Several days later they reached the island’s coordinates. When they reached the location of Jacopo Island, to the horror and surprise of the Captain there wasn’t any sign of his island.

  Captain Prisco screamed to his first mate, ‘Barnacle, where’s the island?’

    ‘I dunno Captain, it should be right in front of us.’

  ‘Have you got the right coordinates man?’

‘Yessir! Positively Sir.’

  It took a few seconds for the dreadful realisation that Jacopo Island was gone and would never be seen again. Washed away and destroyed by Hurricane Esmeralda, the island was now at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.

 The Captain took this discovery surprisingly philosophically.

   ‘Well life’s a gamble, they say things come and go, Nature provides and Nature takes away. C’mon Barnacle, let’s head for Tango, I need to cash in my chips.’

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved   

(This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.)

SENTIMENTAL CELEBRATIONS

MONDAY 4th JANUARY 2021 

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..

Prompt ~SENTIMENTAL CELEBRATIONS

SENTIMENTAL CELEBRATIONS


by John Yeo.

    Joe and Meg had met on a cruise ship, the grand SS Rosemary. They were both sadly bereaved from previous matrimonial spouses. 

    Circumstances threw them together when they met aboard the ship. They had both played their cards right over a bridge card table on board ship and they became inseparable. They were married six months later with a simple ceremony in church and they were soon happily settled. Both contentedly retired, they were hardly ever out of each other’s company and life simply drifted by in a haze of pure contentment.

    Five extremely happy years later they enjoyed the ultimate sentimental celebration. Word reached them that the actual ship that had brought them together was sailing into the sunset for its final voyage. 

    Plans were made and the day of sailing grew ever closer

 They experienced the incredible, sad farewell voyage which sailed from Southampton through the Mediterranean visiting some  beautiful and historic cities during the voyage, including Venice, Barcelona, Dubrovnik, Valletta, and Casablanca. The destinations were beautiful and romantic enough to be thought of as a special second honeymoon with sentimental celebrations.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.