A prompt response for “INSPIRATION MONDAY:” ~ SNEEZE GUARD

Inspiration Monday: Sneeze Guard

http://bekindrewrite.com

SNEEZE GUARD

by John Yeo

  Mayor Reynolds was troubled by traffic problems in the city. Wichitaw was a total gridlock from one end of Main Street to the other on a daily basis.

         “This is getting on my nerves, something has to give, I demand some action, call a meeting of the city council at once!” His face was thunderously angry as he shouted this order to his secretary. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose.

   “Yes sir!” Sarah responded. “I will try to set the meeting for tomorrow, we can e-mail all the members of the council and set up a video conference. Do you want me to prepare an agenda or will you do that? I will need it very fast!” Wiping her nose with a tissue, she waited for his response.

       “You do that please Sarah! Make sure you include an item for me under AOB, regarding the pollution generated by this continual snarl up of traffic. I need to get a few new ideas on the statute book as soon as possible.” He searched his pocket for a clean handkerchief.

   “Yes Sir! I will get started immediately. Your first appointment with Professor Rinski, will be one hour behind schedule as he is running late due to a traffic holdup. He should be arriving very shortly shall I send him right in as soon as he arrives?” Sarah sneezed loudly and uncontrollably.

         “Yes please! Oh remind me what he wants. I have an obscure note about the implications and respiratory costs incurred by carbon monoxide poisoning. E-mail me all the information at once please, and send in some hard copies. Thanks Sarah!” The Mayor couldn’t help dabbing the end of his nose with a tissue, pulled from a box kept in his desk. Good job this isn’t visual, he thought.

   “Yes Sir!” Replied Sarah, clearing her throat politely

 Suddenly a loud ringing of his personal mobile phone intruded, Mayor Reynolds sighed, he was aware who was calling at this time. Sure enough her name came up and he was obliged to answer. Sniffing silently, he pressed the receive call button.

     “Hallo Mary my love! Is everything alright?” His voice sounded thick with the continual fluid generated by a sudden sneeze.

          “No Henry! Sorry to trouble you at work, both of the children are unable to go to school today as they have gone down with the “shoo” bug that’s going around!” Suddenly there was a loud clearing of her throat as Mary waited for a reply

   “Shoo bug? Is that the respiratory problem that is affecting many of our aged relations? Have you called the Doctor?” A worried Mayor tried to hold back a sniffle.

        “Of course Henry, but he is stuck in traffic and I wonder if you can call in a helicopter to get the children to hospital! Please darling!” Mary couldn’t contain an uncontrollable cough.

   “Oh no! I will try but all our city helicopters are in use at present. Wait there for the doctor and I will get back to you!” The mayor coughed in response.

  The internal telephone then loudly sounded as Sarah, quietly coughing into a tissue, announced the arrival of Professor Rinski.

      “Send him in please Sarah!” The Mayor responded with a silent sniffle as he could feel yet another sneeze welling up inside.

 A minute later the office door opened to reveal a figure dressed in what appeared to be a lightweight diving suit, covering his total body with a microphone attached to a round plastic headpiece. There was a distinct resemblance to a knight of times gone by, except he was wearing a suit of plastic instead of metal and there were a number of air filters attached to the front and rear of his head.

  “Good morning!” A metallic voice greeted the stunned mayor.

Copyright (c). Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

Image from the net

Written in response to a prompt provided by Inspiration Monday

http://bekindrewrite.com

MYSTERIOUS ISLAND (43)

I am taking part in Mondays Finish the Story 28/09/2015, which is a challenge that provides a photo prompt and the opening sentence to your story. The rules indicate that the story you come up with must be between 100-150 words, not including the given opening sentence.

The link below takes you to Part Forty-Two

MYSTERIOUS ISLAND (42)

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

Finish the story begins with:

“The A&B Building was made entirely from driftwood.”
“Can you believe that?” Delphine laughed pointing to the facade. “Just chunks of washed-up wood!”
“Hey, look at that date! 1899, I must get a shot of the front, to e-mail home.”
Angelo and Delphine were meeting a local businessman in front of this historic building to hire a helicopter and ask for help with local information.
After several attacks on members of the Brigadiers organisation, Angelo and Delphine were ordered to Skagway in Alaska.
A tipoff from Brazil revealed that Dr Dickus had returned to this part of the world and was in the process of recruiting mercenaries to attack the Brigadier’s fortress on the Mysterious Island and attempt to recover the lost bullion.
Luigi was building another military-style force in Brazil, little realising he was was under observation.
Marg was called by Don Fernando. “Please, I need to see you urgently, Bella needs your help!” ……..

(150 WORDS)

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

The link below takes you to Part Forty-Two

https://johnandmargaret1607.wordpress.com/2015/09/22/mysterious-island-42/

https://mondaysfinishthestory.wordpress.com/

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

PICTURE IT AND WRITE ~ RAGS AND MR. POTTS

This is the latest Picture it and Write prompt from Ermilia’s blog

Picture it & Write

As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia

RAGS AND MR. POTTS

by John Yeo

   At last we own our own property, we are so proud it belongs to us, lock, stock and barrel. There is a lot of work to be done it is very rundown and we have boxes and stacked everywhere on the bare wooden floorboards.
  Our pet mongrel dog Rags, has settled in, always barking at the slightest noise or a strange passing dog.
Cindy and I are energised and we are decorating the house from top to bottom.

Cindy has an organising mind and this morning she said.
      “We will sleep in the downstairs front room until we finish the bedrooms off”

   “That’s OK by me!” I reply. “Hey! Look at that dog, what is he doing with that old stick someone has wedged across the stairs? He is trying to get that out from there!”

     “Oh, Rags, come here you silly boy!” Cindy shouts.

    “Oh leave him, at least it is the outside stairs.”

   Mrs Brown our nearest neighbour pops in for a chat and a cup of tea, bringing a hamper of groceries,
     “Just to tide you over dears, until you can get to the local store.”

    “Thanks so much!” I respond, “Can I pay you for them?”

     “No don’t be do silly! I would like you to take them as a good neighbourly gift.”

  Mrs Brown sits on a packing-case drinking a cup of Cindy’s special brew tea.

     “Did you hear the story of old Mr Potts, who last lived here, he was a very eccentric tyrant of a man. He would always be chasing the local kids away if they wandered off the path out front, on to his drive. He would charge out of the house waving a big stick to scare them away, every time anyone passed by.”

    “No!” We chorused.

  Mrs Brown took another sip of tea. “Well he was a bit of a hermit, living alone and not mixing with anyone socially. Rumour has it that he would drink vast quantities of home-brewed cider and get very drunk. One day he tripped over a stick on your back stairs, very drunk and not looking where he was going. He lay at the bottom of those stairs for a whole week before he was discovered, sadly he died on the way to the hospital.”

  Cindy refilled Mrs Browns teacup, as we sat listening to this tragic tale.

     “Well!” She continued. “Rumour has it that someone deliberately lodged that stick there to trip him up, but there was never any proof and nobody is owning up to anything.”

  At this point there was a loud barking from around the back as Rags, tired of trying to dislodge that pesky stick, just sat there barking at nothing, there was no one to be seen.

  When Mrs Brown saw this and noticed the stick lodged across the back stairs she nearly fainted with the shock. Cindy gave her a glass of water and produced some smelling salts. When Mrs Brown came around she was alarmed.

     “Surely that is not the same stick that was responsible for the death of Mr Potts! How did that get there?” She cried.

    “Oh! That stick has been there since we moved in!” I said, “Rags has been going potty trying to get it out, we thought he was just having a game, but after hearing your story now! I wonder?”

  We both finish the day working non-stop, flat out to get as much done as possible before it gets too dark.

  As we settle down to sleep Cindy whispers. “Good Night darling, I hope our little house is not haunted by the ghost of Mr Potts!”

  “Good night Cindy! Don’t worry, Rags will see him off!”

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

A prompt response for “INSPIRATION MONDAY:” ~ SOL FOOD

Inspiration Monday: ~ PROMPT ~SOL FOOD.

“Sunrise” ~ Image © Copyright ~ John and Margaret

SOL FOOD TAKEAWAY

by John Yeo

  The Profesaurus lumbered up to the shining gathering of starlets in this out of the way part of the Fifteenth quadrant of the immensity of the Dinoverse.

    “Attention all! There is a dire emergency underway here. Universal paradise is under threat of starvation. There must be an answer to the rapid depreciation of combustible matter. Many parts of our quadrant are becoming lifeless black rocks as the flames of life are extinguished. We need an answer and we need it fast!”
      “I have the finest, brightest Solarians working with the Gas giants, pushing the limits of our knowledge of energy producing gases to the limits. We have experimented with many elements that can feed the flames and extend the burning lifespan of this quadrant!” Reported the gas-guzzling four-by-four legged Pratisaurus.
     “We are already the biggest emitters of gaseous flatulance in the history of Solarian activity in the known Dinoverse. Our total intake of combustible material far exceeds the matter available. Our Raptosaurs have made enormous breakthroughs in the boring of the dark matter and may have discovered a way.” Ejaculated a famous prizewinning Dickosaurus.
  The Profesaurus made a scorching comment. “Flames are becoming extinguished everywhere! We need an answer instantly, I understand recycling of the flatulance gasses is being tried and tested. Why not make it a universal method of combustion?”
       “Well, this solar technology is in the early stages and has minor solar wind-rush rear-scorching problems at present.” Responded a listening Gas giant.

 The immense Solarian brilliance of the prize winning Dickosaurus then stood to attention and addressed the flames.
      “Stars! The preservation and continuance of Sol-power is the immediate imperative of every member of this gathering. We think we may have a permanent solution to the lack of combustible material. We have managed to drill through the dark matter that surrounds us all and to penetrate into another dimension. We have pushed through and created a Black Hole, that will attract everything within range and swallow it, then deposit it on the boundaries of our quadrant. Thus seeding and replacing our system with new life. New delicacies to feed the flames. Sol food delivered to our doorstep.”
  There was a stunned silence, then roars and grunts of scorching approval, as the Gas giants discovered flatulance would be relegated to become an alternative source of Sol food.
  The Profesaurus then brought the meeting to a close and the gathering was closed with much heated discussion.

     After this amazing harvesting of alternative dimensions had been in place for a number of aeons, the moral implications were beginning to swirl in the gaseous outer limits of the solar quadrant.
       “What right have we to consume blindly everything that comes our way through an outlet that starts from we know not where?” Enquired a leading flare in the anti-matter community.
     “We will live naturally and live on recycled flatulent gases now the technology has improved.”

Sadly Black Hole consumerism had arrived.

Copyright © written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

Written for INSPIRATION MONDAY

http://bekindrewrite.com

SPIRIT PAINTWORK

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers ~ Writing challenge.

Hosted by Priceless Joy.

The goal is to write a story between 100-150 words (give or take 25 words) based on the provided photo.

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Graham Lawrence.

by John Yeo

  Penelope attended the local art group, where all the local artists got together once a month to visit a location and create a work of art. This month they were painting in a very pretty walled garden attached to a historic Manor House. Penelope set her easel up and began to paint . A polite cough broke her concentration and she turned to see a lady dressed in a period costume admiring her work looking over her shoulder.
    “There was a horse trough next to the gate where you came in. Many’s the time I rode through here!”
 Penelope was taken aback. “You rode here?”
     “Yes! before the young Squire was killed. We always rode together.”
Penelope suspected a practical joke and called to her friends “Come here everyone!”
Turning back she found the gracious lady had disappeared.
Puzzled she made enquiries from one of the gardeners.
      “Ah! that will be the ghost of her ladyship. Reputedly her one true love was thrown from his horse and killed here. She hung herself from an apple tree!”

(175 WORDS)

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

This is in response to a challenge hosted by Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. If you would like to participate in this challenge or need more information, please click the following link:

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com

 

MYSTERIOUS ISLAND (42)

I am taking part in Mondays Finish the Story 21/09/2015, which is a challenge that provides a photo prompt and the opening sentence to your story. The rules indicate that the story you come up with must be between 100-150 words, not including the given opening sentence.

The link below takes you to Part Forty-One

MYSTERIOUS ISLAND (41)

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

Finish the story begins with:

“She lived in a mango tree.”
As Mango trees go, this was a very fruitful place to live. The Brazilian Mango is very profitable and this huge fruit farm was now under new ownership
Isabella’s husband built this tree-house after losing his land to the mysterious Luigi. He was cheated and frightened by threats and blackmail following a losing streak at poker.
Marg was shocked to receive Hillary’s message, two men claiming to be top Brazilian diplomats in Britain, were arrested attempting to plant an explosive device in Marg’s London office, they were released, after claiming diplomatic immunity.
The Brigadier angrily linked this to various threats received by other key personnel in the organisation. Don Fernando had several leads and Angelo with Delphine were on the trail of Luigi, it was thought he had temporarily left Brazil.
Marg received fruitful information via Angelo from Isabella the lady who lived in a Mango tree……..

(147 WORDS)

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

The link below takes you to Part Forty-One

MYSTERIOUS ISLAND (41)

https://mondaysfinishthestory.wordpress.com/

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

DAILY PROMPT ~ 20th SEPTEMBER 2015 ~ EXHALE

Image ©~ John and Margaret

DAILY PROMPT on Word Press ~ 20th  Sept 2015

Exhale
“Tell us about a time when everything seemed to be going wrong — and then, suddenly, you knew it would be alright.”

EXHALE SLOWLY 

(Pure fiction) 🙂

by John Yeo

The first thing that led me to believe that this was going to be one of those days, was when my absolutely reliable, dependable alarm call failed to sound I woke two hours late for my work, to discover that my mobile phone had stopped working, exactly one hour before the alarm was due to sound.
I immediately attempted to telephone my office to say I was running late but my landline was out of order and I still had no signal on my mobile phone. l switched on the television to catch the news, the newscaster was rambling on about all the troubles in the world, but there wasn’t anything about local communications failure. I switched it off in disgust.
I thought I may as well accept the fact that my morning was missing, why shouldn’t I indulge in a good brunch and start work in the afternoon. I put some toast under the grill and eggs were frying in the pan when there was a knock at the door. I rushed to answer the door to find my neighbour on the doorstep. “Have you a telephone that works?” She asked.
“No!” I replied. “I am going in to work this afternoon!”
Suddenly I smelt smoke and my smoke alarm went crazy, I realised what I had done and slammed the door in her face. I quickly went to the kitchen to find the oven was on fire so I raced to the sink and filled a bucket with water and tried to put the fire out. Too late, I realised that water and electricity do not mix, just as the lights fused with a crack and a mains fuse blew.
Then sirens sounded and bells were ringing as three fire engines raced up, summoned by my neighbour who had smelt smoke at the same moment I did when I slammed the door, and she had stopped a passing car-driver who had immediately raced to the fire station.
I held my breath as the electricity company arrived to restore the power, and the telephone company arrived at the same time to carry out repairs to the communications systems.
My telephone line restored, my mobile phone rang with a call from my Mother to say she had one of her headaches and would I mind bringing her some tablets after I finished work. I took another deep breath and attempted to quickly explain the situation, but I had to hang up on her as my landline sounded and there was a loud knocking at my door at the same time. I answered the door to find a policeman on the doorstep investigating a burglary at a local store where the thieves had disabled the local communication systems. The call on the landline was the telephone company apologising for the break in communications. Next I got a call from my mobile phone company apologising for the failure of the mobile signal, neither of the two incidents were related. I took another deep breath as I called my house insurance cover company and after much argument and clouding of the issue they promised to send an assessor to assess the damage. I finally got through to the office and my employer said this chain of circumstances was so far-fetched, it had to be true.
I then exhaled loudly as I realised everything would turn out OK!

It would be another day tomorrow. It is my birthday. Yes!!!!!

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

COMPASSION

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers ~ Writing challenge.

Hosted by Priceless Joy.

The goal is to write a story between 100-150 words (give or take 25 words) based on the provided photo.

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Scott, author of the blog, Scott’s Place

by John Yeo

The Gaucho regarded the penned wild horses with a sadness that welled up into a sympathy for these beautiful creatures. As he regarded this latest herd of captives waiting to be broken and tamed one of the horses held his gaze. He began to feel an extreme sadness for the loss of freedom of the wild horses roaming the range. It was almost as if this magnificent creature was communicating with him as pictures formed in his mind, of the love between a stallion and his favourite mare. The colts running and jumping along with the herd as they traversed the range. Wind rustling through the brush and ruffling the manes of the free-moving, fast-galloping horses.
“I have broken in so many horses in my long career, I have never felt this way before!” He murmured.
The wild horse held his gaze, he felt a deep compassion well up inside of him. The horse whinnied and tossed its head.
Entranced the gaucho unlocked the gate and set them free.

(171 WORDS)

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

This is in response to a challenge hosted by Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. If you would like to participate in this challenge or need more information, please click the following link:

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com

 

A prompt response for “INSPIRATION MONDAY:” ~ CLOUD STORAGE

Image © John and Margaret

A DREAM WORLD

by John Yeo

  “The storage facility is endless a huge area of space that can accommodate millions of dreams! ”
The supervisor of the facility was outlining the future to a class of sleepy students all suffering the effects of the morning after the night before.
   “How do the dreams get translated into a medium that is able to process them and put them into storage?” Enquired Smart Alec a sceptical student who perpetually lived in a dream world.
  “Translation is a method where the morning memories of dreams gone before are recalled, related, then preserved in a cloudy aura of perspicacity. The accumulated ideas form a whole dream that is available and stored in cloud storage!” The Supervisor went on. “The average unenlightened general public’s attitude to following a dream is to access the cloud through the entrances from cloud cuckoo-land.”
   “I have been informed that following a seemingly impossible dream it is possible to walk about with your head in the clouds! Is this a way to access the dreams in cloud storage?” Enquired a dozy voice from the back of the room.
  The supervisor sighed, “Sometimes the clouds can be so dense as to preclude access to the storage at all! The whole idea of cloud storage is to have instant access to your treasured documents and photographs instantly. The cloud storage is limitless.”
     “How secure is the data that is stored in these unpredictable clouds? Surely interference from electrical storms can interfere with the signals and interrupt the data processing. Can the unwary depositor of dreams be exposed to an unscrupulous hacker stealing in under cloud cover?” Asked a sleepy voice from the front row.
   “The encryption of the cloud-pathway into the cloud storage facility is absolutely secure. There are no known instances of one set of dreams stored in cloud-storage, contaminating another set of individual dreams.” Came the reply from a cloud-manager.
  The supervisor and on-line security expert both nodded at one another in agreement with these words.

  Then a very loud clanging of an alarm bell broke into my dream as my morning call on my mobile phone sounded. I woke instantly with the thought that I must set up a cloud storage system on my computer to preserve my memory for everyday computing.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

Written for INSPIRATION MONDAY

http://bekindrewrite.com

MYSTERIOUS ISLAND (41)

I am taking part in Mondays Finish the Story 14/09/2015, which is a challenge that provides a photo prompt and the opening sentence to your story. The rules indicate that the story you come up with must be between 100-150 words, not including the given opening sentence.

The link below takes you to Part Forty

MYSTERIOUS ISLAND (40)

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

Finish the story begins with:

“From her small balcony, the witch watched the world go by.”

Lucienne’s Mother sat watching and waiting for news. All the omens were bad, the crystal ball was cloudy, which was a very bad sign and the tea-leaves predicted a disaster.
Jean Pierre although badly injured and back home in France, would recover. The preparations for the wedding were underway funded by a bank draft forwarded from France, but she still felt uneasy. He was still tied to the Brigadiers organisation, would he be able to retire and get free from his previous life?
Marg, Delphine and Angelo were with several other operatives in a high power meeting with the Brigadier and Don Fernando on the Mysterious Island. The feeling was that all operations should be suspended for a while and everyone should lie low. The Brigadier was very concerned about any ongoing alliance between Dr Dickus and nasty Luigi.
Suddenly Marg received an urgent message from Hillary in London…..

(150 WORDS)

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

The link below takes you to Part Forty

MYSTERIOUS ISLAND (40)

https://mondaysfinishthestory.wordpress.com/

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved