HEARING VOICES

This piece of Flash Fiction is  a story I conjured up based on this photograph of an interesting sculpture from among my illustrated souvenirs.

HEARING VOICES

by John Yeo

 Ted Smith, was a renowned seer and futurologist, a man, they say, who could predict the future with incredible accuracy. Ted’s history was one of the checkered variety that made historians and members of the medical profession choke on their morning coffee.

 Ted had left school at fourteen, shunned by the teaching staff and his fellow pupils alike for his insistence that he could hear voices coming from below the ground. Voices that actually spoke to him and tried to warn him about events that were about to happen. Everyone laughed when he warned about wildfires, floods, and acts of chance that promised to kill many people in countries far away from where he lived, on the other side of the globe. 

 Ted had been in and out of mental hospitals and psychiatric institutions for most of his life, subjected to some of the most incredible cures for the insane that were ever invented, including electric shock, and aversion therapy, before anyone really took any notice of what the voices he professed to hear actually said to him.

 A renowned psychologist, Madeline Gentle began to listen and subjected him to some tests, simple at first. 

  Jokingly, one day before the famous horse race, the Grand National, Madeline said to him.

“Write down in the correct order the first three horses that will pass the winning post tomorrow”

 “Easy!” Ted replied and put his head to the ground then handed her back the piece of paper with the horses names listed. “There will also be a shocking flood in Bengal that will kill thousands.” He added.

  “OK! Now write down the name of the top three companies that will be most successful on the stock market tomorrow please.” Requested the doctor amiably.

  “Certainly!” Ted put his head to the ground and wrote three names on a piece of paper. “There will also be a wildfire in Australia that will cause much damage.”

 Sensationally every prophetic word came true. Ted was then feted and swiftly became renowned for his abilities. Much money was made from his forecasting abilities and the world began to take notice of his every utterance as many devastating phenomena were stopped before they began.

Ted began to relay much scientific information from the voices, including the incredibly simple free energy that was to become a boon to the world. Along with many new cures for a variety of cursed illnesses that had scythed down many of the finest minds that mankind had ever produced. 

 One very sad but remarkable day after having placed his head to the ground, Ted announced, “I have to say goodbye to this world as I am about to die!” There was a ripple of shock among his followers and the huge audience, he had attracted to his daily forecasting sessions.

  A man in the front row of the audience pulled out a gun and shot him dead. 

   “Death to the difference!” The man shouted as he pulled the trigger, before turning the gun on himself and pulling the trigger. 

 A Saint was born at that split second and St. Ted is worshipped and venerated in many corners of the globe to this day.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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FOOLS GOLD

This is a piece of flash fiction based on a couple of pictures from our backlog of old photographs


FOOLS GOLD

by John Yeo

     Bill threw the rope over the sides of the rocky cliffs. There were very slender trees growing on the face of the rocky escarpment, much vegetation had taken root in the sediment that was regularly deposited from the rain and by the amazing variety of birds that were constantly flying over the cliffs.
“We will search here first! I am sure we are on the right track. My instincts tell me that somewhere around this area the valuables were deposited after the galleon came to grief on these treacherous rocks, all those years ago.” said Bill
“OK!” replied Chloe. “There must be an entrance to a hidden cave somewhere around here. That gigantic storm yesterday, really did shake the rocks, the skipper of the fishing boat, “Seagull” was certain a cave appeared and disappeared, before his very eyes. Legend has it that the crew of a wrecked Spanish galleon transferred a huge stash of treasure into a cave here, before a storm and a landslide sealed them in with the booty, never to be seen again. The empty wreckage of the abandoned galleon was discovered by rescuers the next morning.”
“I am hopeful we may have stumbled onto the legendary cave of Spanish gold!” Bill buckled himself to the climbing rope and began the slow descent of the steep cliff, pushing his feet against the hard rock surface frantically searching for clues. The slightest crack or crevice that would be a clue to the riches sealed underground, undisturbed for centuries. 

   Chloe took a risky decision and threw a rope over to join Bill in his search, guiding herself down the sharp rocks, searching hard for the slightest clue that may make them wealthy beyond their wildest dreams.

    The clouds gathered above the harbour as they began their search. Suddenly Bill gave a shout of delight as he discovered an opening in the cliff face. At that moment there was a huge clap of thunder a sudden storm started to shake the rocky surface to the foundations. Lightning forked and flashed, huge raindrops started to pour over them with soaking sheets of water that swiftly gathered into rivulets pouring down the gulleys and crevices of the rocky formation on the cliff-front. They both took cover in the opening Bill had discovered, that turned out to be a small empty cave. There was an ominous rumble as the raging winds and torrential rain continued unabated and rocks began to move in a sudden awful landslide that closed the entrance to the cave. 

       Bill and Chloe were not reported missing for three days and it was a whole week before the story of their search for treasure became public. Search parties were sent scouring the rough rocky terrain on and around the cliffs, sadly without success. 

      A memorial was placed on the top of the cliffs where it was thought the two young lovers had perished, 

       People still search for the mysterious hoard of Spanish gold.


Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

 

 

PICTURE IT AND WRITE ~ A VERY FINE BALANCE

This is the latest Picture it and Write Prompt from Ermilia’s page.

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2016/04/24/picture-it-write-91/

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As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia.

A VERY FINE BALANCE

by John Yeo

He sees the world with unique eyes.

The eyes of youth, full of his personal view,

selfish to the point of careless.  

He is aware of his own perspective 

on the events in this uniquely individual world. 

Everything seems fine, no matter what, 

he always seem to survive.

Tomorrow is another day!

A day that never arrives they say.

~~~~~

Reality reflects a different view.

 A view from the outside looking in

Although he casts a long straight shadow

The stairs leading up shape another view.

Teetering on the brink of a downward fall.

 A fall that will certainly come 

~~~~~~~

A very fine balance indeed!

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “ DYNASTIC PRESSURE”

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“The Future” ~ Image © Copyright John and Margaret

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “DYNASTIC PRESSURE”
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  I am still very busy working on my book, and I am up to Chapter Eighteen now. I am happy to say Marg is well and thriving.

   This flash fiction prompt came up from, “Inspiration Monday,” and I thought it might be a good idea to base my response around some of the characters who feature in my novel.

  • Don Francisco
  • His two sons, Angelo and Giuseppe} ~Twin Brothers
  • Bella ~ their Sister.

I have to point out now, that the two men are not brothers in my novel and Bella is not their sister. However for the purposes of the thrust of my story in response to this prompt, I have used a little poetic license here.

DYNASTIC PRESSURE

by John Yeo

      There were not just ripples of unease spreading throughout  the family. Storm clouds were on the horizon and building up, it seemed a tremendous family storm was brewing and the various strands of the family were coming together for a very crucial meeting.

       Don Francisco held the members of the Vicente family in a grip of steel, his father and his grandfather and their forefathers had kept the family together for generations. In a word he was the Godfather. The leader of a thriving dynasty.

     News of a shocking diagnosis had spread, Don Francisco was dying of cancer and was not expected to survive for very long. Don Francisco had twin sons, one of whom was expected to take control of the family business. Angelo was present at the bedside of his father and Bella their sister was comforting her mother, Maria. Giuseppe was supposedly on the way but there had been no news, then Maria came rushing into the room in a distressed state.

     “Papa, Papa, I have shocking news! Giuseppe is dead, he was killed by a suicide bomber, who blew himself up and killed twelve people. He just happened to be on a train, in the wrong place at the wrong time!”

     Don Francisco went white with shock, speechless with horror. “Leave me please, I want to be alone with my grief.”

     Bella and Angelo withdrew. Bella then turned to Angelo and said. “You will now soon be The Godfather, as Papa is dying and you are next in line. He was about to pass on the title to Giuseppe who was second-in-command, while you were away at university, studying. You will control everything now!”

     “No! That is not possible Bella.” shouted Angelo, “I have been studying to become a priest,  I want nothing more to do with the family business!”

      “Angelo! This will destroy him, you must not tell him, what you have just told me. You must pretend to accept, and allow him to die peacefully. I will secretly take charge, to keep the family dynasty together. You will become a godfather in name only. It will be seen as a sign of weakness if we announce that our family is run by a woman. A godmother, who will be ridiculed and cursed with malice in a male controlled world.”

     “So be it, my sister, for the sake of my father, I will live this lie. How will you manage?”

     “Angelo, I have spent my life close to my father and I have learnt much. I have been involved in missions for my father. I have made many friends, and I expect to get married some day and my fiancée  who will then be my husband will take over with your blessing, my brother. The godfather will arise from within our family and the dynasty will continue unbroken.”

    ‘Thank you Bella, I will love you forever my sister!”

 

Copyright   © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

  • This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Peace

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A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “FLOWER GRAFFITI”

Poppies

Image © Copyright John and Margaret

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “FLOWER GRAFFITI”
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FLOWER GRAFFITI

by John Yeo

    Annabelle was a creative, artistic sensitive young woman. At art college she fell heavily in love with Dominic a fellow student who seemed to be on the same wavelength in all things. They became inseparable, and it was certain they would get through the exams together with flying colours.

    They were indeed colourful, extrovert and prepared to go to any lengths to express their natural artistic talents. Dominic would draw lightning sketches of passers-by in the city centre for money, a form of busking that helped to pay the bills. Annabelle also painted and was developing a market for portraits, from among her friends and family.

  Annabelle had a younger brother, Toby, a mischievous youngster who was struggling with his,  A-level exams and running around with a crowd of young daredevils who would stop at nothing to get some thrills from life.

    Toby, like his sister, was also artistic, but sadly he expressed his talent in a different way. Toby was a graffiti artist, specialising in painting on high office blocks and skyscrapers.

   One day the group dared him to paint a huge red poppy on the twenty-seventh floor of a large office block in the city centre. A building that was the headquarters of a major European bank.

“No! I could never do that without the right equipment. I would need a window cleaning cradle and you would all have to be there to manhandle the hoist.”

“We have thought of that, we have a hoist secreted at the back of the building and we are ready to go. Tomorrow is poppy day and your art will make the front page of every national daily paper in the country! You will be famous when the truth comes out.”

 Toby outrightly refused to have anything to do with this plan and later that day he confided in Dominic.

The next morning every newspaper in the country carried banner headlines that described four huge red poppies painted on the fourth floor walls of a major city office block to remember the dead in two world wars.

Dominic, Annabelle and Toby all smiled knowingly at each other, and admired their poppies from below.

Dominic laughed at Toby and said. “Height is not important. In Art it is the statement that counts!”

Copyright  © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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PICTURE IT AND WRITE ~ SAGE ADVICE

This is a latest Picture it and Write prompt from Emilia’s blog ~10th April

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com

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Image supplied and credited by Emilia

SAGE ADVICE

by John Yeo

 Look here  youngster, I may be ancient, old fashioned and decrepit, but I have been along the trail and I survived. I got through the pitfalls and the side issues by trial and error, using my head and ignoring the wayside temptations.

 The trail is made up of a series of stepping stones, a well worn path that is bordered by much beauty and new experiences. The waysides of the main trail can easily lead the traveller along life’s road, astray.

 You are young, and you have a long way to travel.

Examine the stepping stones along life’s highway. Each is different, and has been worn in different areas. This represents the changing fortunes and broken hopes and aspirations of the journey. People leave, pass away, pass on, nothing is forever, eventually you will be travelling alone, exactly as you started. Nourish and nurture your close relationships, these will be important to you along the way. Eventually there will be nowhere else to turn to, and your closest friend will have been with you all the time, all the way.

The wayside can be an attractive place, new experiences, new excitements, new challenges. By all means youngster, stop and watch the flowers grow, there is no hurry to get to life’s next stepping-stone. Take advantage of your dynamics, take chances, but always take care of what you have, that which is important to you. Your fellow traveller, your closest and most enduring friend who cares for you and will continue to care for you every day of your life.

I know without thought, everything comes easy, the well worn path can be a boringly safe trail. There is more to life than you realise! There is no hurry to get to the end of the trail, another worn stepping stone will always be looming up on the horizon. Enjoy the journey, but take good care along the way. Smell the flowers and enjoy life’s nectar.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

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A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “FELT CASTLES”

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Image  Copyright ©  John and Margaret ~ All rights reserved

A prompt response for INSPIRATION MONDAY ~ “FELT CASTLES”
http://bekindrewrite.com

FELT CASTLES

by John Yeo

   Rampaging across the continent the raiders laid waste to everything they came across, in their greedy lust for riches and power. The fearsome young leader was afraid of nothing and rose to every challenge that came his way. Tyrion had recently become the supreme leader after challenging, defeating, and dethroning the previous leader. Tyrion was fearless, Lord of all the valleys and sub-kingdoms that made up the Southern half of the continent of Grevillea. Tyrion’s relentless atrocities continued Northwards ruthlessly conquering and ransacking everything in his path.

    The powerful army of raiders had taken up residence in a valley that contained an impregnable castle. Tyrion felt secure and rested for a while to take stock of his kingdom. He sent out emissaries to contact his lords in residence in the conquered lands he ruled over, to demand funds by way of heavy taxes on the populations. One by one, these powerful lords arrived with gifts of much gold, silver and precious jewels.

     A stranger from the north rode into the castle that day, amidst these lords, on a pure white stallion, leading a mule train loaded with many bales of a soft material. A gentle unarmed man approached the guards and requested an audience with Tyrion.

   The aggressive captain of the guard immediately arrested him and he was dragged before the leader.

       “Who are you and where do you hail from?” Tyrion immediately asked the man, now in chains to prevent his escape.

       “Sir! My name is Santana, I come from Pacifica, a peaceful valley in the North. We have heard much about you and we would like to trade peacefully with you. We have much to offer and I am sure we could learn much from each other. We are a very peaceful people.”

      Tyrion smiled benevolently and thought long and hard before replying. “What is to stop us from overrunning your peaceful community taking whatever we want?”

       Santana said few words in reply, “Why? Everything we have is yours for the taking without bloodshed.”

      Tyrion said.  “What have you brought on your mule train?”

     “A luxurious new mysterious material that we use to construct our dwellings, very lightweight and very strong and waterproof. I would like to show your men how to construct portable castles to keep you safe wherever you go.” Replied Santana.

  Tyrion ordered his release at once and before long many portable castles covered the plains surrounding the castle.

   More mule trains had continually arrived, bearing the wondrous new material, and several days later most of Tyrion’s army were housed in comfort.

   Tyrion then ordered his army to prepare to march on Pacifica the next day, laughingly he prepared for an easy conquest.

      Santana was shocked, “Why?”  he asked, “We are your friends a very gentle peaceful people!”

       Tyrion laughed and relied, “I need the money to continue to fight and conquer.”

     That night all was prepared and the army slept comfortably and peacefully before the morning’s march on Pacifica.

    Then fire broke out around the castle a raging inferno spread widely and raged out of control from castle to castle. There was no escape from the flames. Thousands died, the only survivors were inside the impregnable castle. Then an iron clad army surrounded the valley and wiped out the few survivors, before they marched through the gates that were opened from within.

      Tyrion’s guards were killed and he was dragged before Santana.

          “How?” He begged as he was forced on his knees

       Taking a double edged sword Santana smiled and said. “This is the iron fist inside a velvet glove! Exacting justice for your ruthless killing.”

    Then with one blow Santana cut off the tyrant’s head.

Copyright  © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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Peace

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