A Prompt Response for Inspiration Monday


Image from the net

A prompt response for Inspiration Monday: Aggressive Sleep



by John Yeo

    “Insomnia, Insomnia, Insomnia. This awful bloody Insomnia! What else can I do? The medics have prescribed every pill and potion known to the human race. Nothing works.

I am in training and my mind is totally focused on getting the right result in the fight, my reflexes are slowing slightly. I need help, urgent help; or I will definitely lose!”

 Jason hadn’t slept for days, his manager had tried every way, no expense spared, to get his man to sleep.

 “I just can’t get to sleep, whatever I do.” Jason went on, “I keep worrying about the result and counting the money we will earn, the fight is always on my mind, night and day.”

  Tommy Ricardo was an able and experienced manager, he had handled many fighters in his career but this was new. A fighter who was gradually losing his touch, losing his reflexes, and the chance of taking the title. The glory and rewards were gradually slipping away, unless something could be done and fast. Tommy had heard of a Guru from India, who could guarantee to put Jason to sleep, but the cost was phenomenal. Tommy took Jason to see the mystic, Jason was tired; tired and nervous: His temper was brittle.

  “What the hell! If he gets me to sleep it will be worth the money I guess.” said Jason. “I suppose he will influence me to sleep, using hypnosis. Is that really worth all this money?”

 Tommy nodded in agreement and replied. “The accountants have done their sums and they maintain, this fight will be worth tens of millions if you win. We must find a way to get you to relax and sleep!”

  The Guru smiled a welcome, he sat on a pile of cushions and waved the two men to take a seat. An interpreter was present and opened the conversation with words of welcome. Then a question.

  “The Guru asked have you brought the money, we need the cash up front. He has studied the case and he guarantees that Jason will be asleep within minutes of the exchange, using a technique of his own invention.”

Tommy looked askance at Jason?  “Are you ready for this? Shall I pay them?”

“Yeah go ahead! If it works as he guarantees, then our problems are over” Jason said.

 Tommy handed a suitcase to the interpreter, after the cash was counted and taken away, the Guru motioned Jason to enter a private room.

  The next few minutes passed quickly, there was a familiar sounding crack, the Guru came out smiling and spoke to the interpreter, who turned and said, “The news is good, your man is fast asleep. Our women have covered him with rugs, he will sleep long, as his tiredness was extreme.”


“How did he do that so fast?”  asked Tommy.

“This is a new revolutionary, Aggressive Sleep Therapy, administered by an unexpected left hook, works every time,” smiled the interpreter.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.




FLASH FICTION ~ This is a flash fiction story based on a photograph of a Tree Peony taken in our garden.


Image © Copyright John and Margaret ~ All rights reserved


by John Yeo

    The searchers were ever breaking new barriers searching for supplies of the life rejuvenating substance. Flyers from neighbouring hives would do battle in the skies over new territories, where undiscovered unknown sources of nectar could be found.

    Humphrey was a warlike bee who had fought in many a stinging battle with members of a neighbouring hive. Humphrey never travelled alone, he was always accompanied by Harriet his constant companion and fellow explorer.

   One memorable day Harriet zoomed back from an exploration sortie, in a state of zizzling excitement!

   Humphrey had never seen her behave like this and he waggled his wings and zignalled his disapproval.

    “Humphrey, call out the swarm! I have discovered the largest source of nectar I have ever seen, Huge flowers, on a bush, flowers as large as a whole planet. We must stake out the territory, drive out the opposition and store up the supplies!” Harriet hummed excitedly.

      The sight that met Humphreys eyes as he flew over the fence almost stopped him in mid-flight. Huge pink blooms, shielding hearts of delight, literally oozing sweet nectar in undreamt of quantities, confronted him. There were several unidentified alien smaller bees, buzzing aggressively around.

       “Harriet; return and call for reinforcements, we need everybody here, fighters, workers, even the drones. These are very valuable sources of supply, we must drive out these aliens and stake our claim.”

      Humphrey attacked the smaller bees who reacted in surprise and flew away fast, Humphrey was delighted at such an easy conquest, as the squadrons and drones of his swarm moved in and began gathering the seemingly endless supplies of nectar.

      Rumbling waves of sound, became faintly audible, and got increasingly closer.

       ’Sounds like a storm on the way!’ thought Humphrey.

     Then as he looked up, a squadron of the alien bees arrived, followed by two of the largest bees he had ever seen. When these monsters started attacking his swarm, Humphrey got angry and charged the leader sinking his sting into the monster’s eye. Harriet could see her soulmate was in danger and promptly attacked the other large bee in exactly the same way. The remainder of their swarm then attacked the two huge aggressors from every angle and brought them down.

  Sometime later two humans were admiring the large flowers, watching the bees hard at work, one bent forward to smell the perfume.


   “Watch out, there are bees about, you may get stung!”  Said one in a warning voice.

      “Don’t worry, these are honey bees, they are harmless. The other one replied.


 Humphrey staggering under another load of nectar had to smile at that.


Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved





A Prompt Response for Inspiration Monday


Image ©Copyright John and Margaret ~ All rights reserved.


Inspiration Monday: Cupcake Stealth / Glorious Monotony.

Like it or loathe it, I put two prompts together here. Some will say I should separate them~Stealthily subtract the Glorious Monotony from all Cupcake relations?




by John Yeo

  Nancy was a city slicker, a stock marketeer who bought and sold stock on the open worldwide market. The excitement of closing deals and making bids, sent her adrenaline levels through the roof.

  Nancy’s lifestyle was an incredible whirlwind of rubbing shoulders with the immensely rich and privileged people who frequented the social hotspots in many parts of the world.

  Everything went according to a well drawn, well perceived plan. Nancy had a personal portfolio that showed her to be a millionaire several times over on paper

 Many of the super rich trusted her judgement implicitly and she soon became the fashionable broker to deal with.

Before the stock market crash exploded and ripped the guts from the market, her world seemed indestructible.

Nancy began to have palpitations as realisation started to set in. Smelling the smoke before the fire took hold, Nancy collapsed in writhing pain.

  “Call an ambulance urgently!”  was the cry from the floor of the exchange.

  “A very important broker has collapsed in pain!” Shouted a bystander nervously.

 “CPR is being applied, by a trained, in-house, first-aider!”  Screamed an employee into the phone.

An ambulance magically appeared, almost before the call had finished. Nancy was taken aboard, hooked to machines, reviving gas and injections with medication applied.

  Nancy was rushed away fast. The ambulance siren cleared the way, all the way to a private airfield.

    Nancy was pushed into an aircraft that raced away to parts unknown.

  When the Market crashed later that day, many millions were lost. Curiously one portfolio survived the crash, through judicious clearing of stock.

   Nancy had disappeared! Never to return to her desk. Questions were asked in many quarters

How did she know? Instinct was the obvious reply.

Where had she gone? Most importantly: Why?

   Two years later a wedding took place on an exclusive privately owned Island.

In the glorious monotony of a sun-soaked lifestyle, one day looks exactly the same as the last.

The bride had a very familiar smile!  A high society marriage without any fuss. Just a few close associates, the groom was of Royal descent and insisted the wedding was kept hush-hush. A celebration without any fuss.

 His lovely wife smiled and directed the celebrations. In her own words to her loving husband, enjoying the glorious monotony of her clever shrewd brain. The new Bride said…..

“I have to laugh at the preparations, I will own up to how it all began.”


Her husband smiled indulgently.




by John Yeo

“I promised the chef we wouldn’t sample them.

Displayed on a four-tier cake-stand.

Iced delights in succulent splendour,

Red, and Blue icing with white runny cream.


The celebration was scheduled for ten.

The occasion was set to be frightfully grand.

Full of pomp and glamorous grandeur,

Covered with napkins frightfully clean.


We retired, sipping cocktails together, when

The afternoon didn’t quite go as planned

The chef, returning to view with wonder,

Suddenly startled us with a piercing scream.


A bundle of black and white fur left the kitchen

Followed by a chef, with rolling-pin in hand

Seeking restitution for a feline blunder

A clumsy kitten had destroyed the dream.


A pitiful pile of cupcakes half bitten,

Lay in a heap looking far from grand.

The chef  screaming with a face of thunder.

Cursing, swearing, venting his spleen.


As a supermarket helicopter stealthily arrived

Delivering  factory-made cupcakes.”


The royal couple watched the sunset, in a glorious dreamy monotonous haze, neither Bride or Groom desired the cupcakes.


Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.



This article  was written for “QUINTET,” our Parish magazine, requesting submissions on the theme of Culture.


Image  Copyright John and Margaret ~ All rights reserved


by John Yeo

     Saul awoke with a throbbing headache, amid the noise of tortured screams, and agonised terrifying cries for help. Everywhere was pitch dark, as he became aware of the iron chains that cut into his wrists, he frantically pulled and tugged in a vain attempt to get free.

   Then his memory began to relay the events of the past few hours, before he was cruelly beaten over the head, and he had lost consciousness. A ship had approached the shore and as his tribal family began to sing and dance in welcome, a cruel merciless attack began. Many of the elderly and infirm were shot as the invaders began to surround everyone, and force march them to the ship. Saul attempted to protect his infirm Father and was viciously beaten around the head, he was never to see his Father alive again.

    After days of darkness and squalor, with a little food thrown and scattered through a trapdoor, a light became visible and the many occupants of this overcrowded hell hole were allowed to emerge. Some weakened and dispirited from the experience. There were a few who never made it, and sadly died during the passage. Saul stumbled up a narrow ladder into daylight, leaving the stench and putrid decaying flesh behind.

     The survivors were hosed down naked on the dockside, and dressed in cheap cotton clothing.

      “You savage cannibals will now be sold in the slave market and quickly become civilised and put to work!”  Announced a stranger in a loud cruel voice, sadly nobody could understand a word he was saying. Everyone was given food and water and soon separated and individually transported to their new homes and places of hard relentless work.

   Saul was transported with some other men to a cotton plantation, and integrated with around sixty other slaves. The charge hands were also bonded slaves and they carried out the orders of a white foreman, implicitly, he would come down hard on troublemakers.

    Saul was a hard worker, intelligent and quick-witted, he could do little else but immerse himself in the work and begin to adjust to this alien culture he had unwillingly become a part of.

    After some months, the slaves were learning the language and a basic form of communication between everyone gradually developed. Saul began to learn the language with the help of Father Leon, a priest, who had been a bonded slave but was now a free man. This man spent his time visiting the workers, wherever he was allowed, offering them comfort, spiritual guidance and help in every way he was able. Saul quickly learned to communicate and to absorb the message of faith that Father Leon prescribed.

     One day he asked his friend the Father, “There is a question I would like to ask, if you have an answer for me please.”

     “Of course,” replied Father Leon, “Ask away if I can help you I will.”

    “Father, Who are the savages?  What did they mean by, ’You savage cannibals will now be sold in the slave market and quickly become civilised and put to work!’ I memorised those words, without understanding?  How does your culture reconcile the wonderful promise of love and eternal life, with the way we were torn from our homes and lifestyles, and cruelly put to work?” asked Saul.

     “These basic cultural rituals are collective activities, ways of reaching desired objectives, and considered as socially essential. They are therefore carried out most of the time for their own sake. These men are a part of a greater whole who have never known anything else but their dominance. Greed is an evil motivator and certainly not condoned by our faith, Saul,” replied Father Leon.

Copyright. © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.



  I wrote the following piece of Flash Fiction on a whim, without any prompt whatsoever, and I will have to find a picture that will fit.


Image © Copyright John and Margaret



by John Yeo

      “Hi!-ram! Hi! everyone, welcome to the hive!” Jazzy fluttered her wings and buzzed in approval as the Bees settled in the crevices of the inner sanctum of the hive. They had deposited the stores of pollen they had collected and were relaxing, waiting for the entertainment to begin.

    Let me introduce you to Jazzy, the life and soul of the party. A social whizzing, buzzing, busy little Bee, flitting and fluttering, from flower to flower, full of twisty tricks and manipulative ploys.

     The worker Bee, in a position of trust. A situation that requires a high degree of self assurance and quick thinking. This is an ingrained state of mind that has been polished and honed over many years. The fields always full of the flowers of opportunity, stretched out for miles in every direction, full of the beautiful colours and attractive perfumes that advertise the nectar stored within their petals.

      Jazzy was competent and well liked by all the Under-Bees in her specialist department of the hive. A heaving, hustling, haven, providing the pleasures and pastimes to keep the shifting population of workers and the coterie of the inner sanctum happy.

       The hive choir sprang into a joyful refrain of gloriously tuneful assorted buzzes as Jazzy introduced herself. “Welcome to the show, all those who have laboured to gain entrance here to the hive. Welcome, my name is Jazzy, we are here to have a good time and allow everyone to relax and have some fun, before work recommences tomorrow. Dust the pollen off your fur, sit on your stings, relax and enjoy the entertainment, I have some wonderful hummers and aerial artistes to set before you, to excite the senses and satiate the appetites of all you hard workers. Enjoy! Taste the nectar and pay homage to the Queen Bee who resides in the inner sanctum.

     It was then Jazzy noticed a couple of returning Bees in the audience, who she had taken a distinct dislike to in the distant past. Her reaction was a stinging public, unthoughtful remark, preceded by the sting in her tail rising to the occasion.

        “I have just seen some buzzy Bees, that I will be avoiding like the plague of  the dreaded mildew of the wing, that has infected millions of our fellow Bees recently!” Jazzy hardly realised she had made a serious error of judgement at this moment, this was supposed to be a warm welcome to the hive. Such unbelievable arrogance had accumulated over many successful welcome to the hive parties.

      The Queen Bee was furious and requested her secretary to arrange an interview at the earliest opportunity.

    There was a sting in the tail of this unfortunate affair as Jazzy’s wings were clipped back severely after this incident.


Copyright. © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.





Image © Copyright John and Margaret

This is a piece of Flash Fiction based on and inspired by the above photograph



by John Yeo

     An amorphous fog was the general state of mind, as far as the future was concerned for Jack, as his life suddenly underwent an incredible change.

   The consulting-room in Harley Street, London, was a plush well furnished suite of rooms.

      “Good morning Sir! How can I help you?” enquired a tall smartly dressed, pretty young woman, in a soft cultured, reassuring voice.

  ‘Wow! Thought Jack, she is obviously a well educated secretary, probably a daughter of wealthy Caribbean parents.

    “Wwwell!” he stammered awkwardly,     “I have an appointment to see Dr Green, my name is Mathews, Jack Mathews.”

   “Just a moment Sir. Ah yes! I will let him know you are here. Please take a seat in the waiting room.”

 Jack sat down in the luxurious surroundings and took in the incredible array of reading material that was strategically placed on various antique coffee tables. ‘I don’t feel like reading’ he thought. His eyes roamed over the walls, he was soon overwhelmed by the gallery of beautiful paintings displayed.

   One particular picture caught his eye. The artist had painted a figure of a man running in abject terror, with his hands covering his face. ‘Obviously based on the famous picture by Edvard Munch,’ he thought. ‘What is that doing here?”

    Then incredibly the image changed to a picture of his life before the bonds of his perfect marriage changed everything. He had been running away from life, until Meg became a part of him. Love had been overwhelming and beautiful, a strong relationship developed, marriage had followed a year later. Bonded, never apart, each day sweeter than the last,

  Many deliriously happy years later the suspicions began to set in. Many differing tests followed; each one pointing more directly to the terminal diagnosis.

      ‘I must do something to tempt the Lord of chance to smile on me. The diagnosis will not come as a terrible shock’ he thought as he went over the last few years in his mind.

     “Doctor Green will see you now, Mr Mathews.”  the secretary smiled as she said these words.

  Jack entered the Doctor’s office nervously with a large lump in his throat, his heart was racing.

   Then he became aware that the doctor was actually smiling. Jack was taken aback as the Doctor went on to say. “I am pleased to say you are totally clear of the symptoms of the cancer you have displayed and you should be clear of fears for the future. Your marriage is the key to a long and a happy life. Congratulations!”

  “There is no cure for this! However can you tell if the perfect lock is secure if you have no keys?” asked Jack

    “Love is the cure! The answer will be the happiness in the face that looks back at you from any mirror in the world,”  was the reply.

     “My secretary will see you on your way out to settle up once and for all. You will require no further appointments.”


Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.  


Image © Copyright John and Margaret



Inspiration Monday: Phantom Library

This is a prompt response for Inspiration Monday


by John Yeo

   Walter was a learned man, a man of many parts, who followed the spiritual uplifting occupation of haunting the words of eloquent spirits from heavenly dreaming spires. The universal leading fount of all that was known to be or not to be. He was interested in many things. In the olden days of books that burnt, Walter set the world on fire amanuensis was the key. Snotter was a drip feeder of the key facts that were daily spewed forth by the great man’s pen. Walter and Snotter were jolly good friends a team that would attempt to access the formidable phantom libraries of the believable, and approach the unbelievable with utmost caution. Walter one day approached the inner sanctum of the brotherhood of phantasmagorical imagination and asked for access to the innermost shelf of forbidden fruitfulness.

    “I have come here absolutely denatured, demanding access to the temple of garish ghostliness combined with glorious ghastliness, to study in the mystical mire of spiritual desire. I have paid the price of panicky fearfulness to extract the phantasmagorical from the fantastical mire of the Phantom Library.” He demanded, in a voice that betrayed nothing short of minor irritation, to the almost nonexistent invisible moronic entity at the portals of a cloudy cavernous Phantom Library.
Eerily empty shelves of phantom knowledge, loomed up menacingly in reply. Snotter attempted to gain entrance from the rear, however a fearsome wind blew him backwards.
A message flashed fearsomely on a crystalline screen. Sign in with your password or sign up with your phantom facts to gain access to the glugger search spook and the phantoms will access the knowledge from the phantasmagorical phantomime library. Glugger ghoulish ghostliness is here to pave the way forward.
Walter and Snotter were on the way to gain access to the magical mystical world of the fantastical Glugger search engine. The incredible effluence located in the glorious Glugger phantom library, brought amazing affluence to Walter and Snotter.

Image © Copyright John and Margaret

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved