TRIGGERED BY TIME

FRIDAY 31st JULY 2020

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..

TRIGGERED BY TIME

by John Yeo

    ‘Well Jim, step back when I say the word. Listen closely, we’re going to be experiencing the most amazing thing you’ve ever seen. When I set the clock a huge red balloon will be inflated with the words.  ‘JO WILL YOU MARRY ME?’ This will be triggered by time. Following the balloon going up there will be a massive explosion which will detonate a fantastic fireworks display. All the colours of the rainbow will be featured in the sky. At the same time a carriage pulled by four pure white horses will arrive containing a butler who will hand you the ring to pass on to your good lady, providing she accepts your proposal.’

 Jim was overwhelmed with this proposal.

   ‘It will certainly make it a memorable occasion. How much will it cost?’ he asked.

   ‘£7000,’ replied the bearded man smoothly, ‘But I will give you a 10% discount, to welcome you into the family.’

At that moment Jo walked in and Jim got down on one knee and asked her the time honoured question. ‘Will you marry me Jo?’

‘Of course,’ she replied, ‘I was wondering how long it would take for you to ask’.

With that, the conman  pushed the time controlled trigger and a buzzer sounded in the bar across the road and a barman arrived with champagne and two glasses.

The conman removed a false beard and took his hat off, and said, ‘Welcome to the family Jim.’ 

© Written by John Yeo

THE SOUNDS OF THE ALPHABET

THURSDAY 30th JULY 2020

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..

THE SOUNDS OF THE ALPHABET

by John Yeo

Synaesthesia a magical process

Turning sound into colour.

Musical instruments bring to life

The beautiful sounds of the alphabet

~

Skiffle, Rock, Country sound,

My youth in words, Swirling around.

Lonnie, The King and the Famous four,

Crooners, Swooners and many more.

~

Vid Sicious, Punk Rock,

Safety pins and the Union Jack.

Shouting, pouting, Strolling clones,

Gyrating, ear-aching, mind numbing tones.

~

Then, conversion through a live performance,

An orchestral night out with a friend,

Feeling apprehensive and very mellow,

Admiring a pretty girl, cradling a Cello.

~

The bow is poised, the strings are silent,

The mind is focused.   Expectant!

The baton is raised, the sound reverberates,

A beautiful Cello sings.

~

A cloudburst of music then resounded,

Each note, a rainbow hued drop of magic.

Gathering force and bursting forth

Entering and impressing my consciousness.

~

The sensual Cellist, lost in producing,

The magic of the sounds.

My mind is taking in her interpretation.

The mechanics of the piece.

~

She reads the script from the music sheet,

Stroking the bow across the strings.

Producing sounds that shake the Soul

Sending the mind on a journey.

~

The notes flow from the instrument,

The musician interprets the composers’ creation.

Mellow sounds fill the air, colourful, resonant.

Each note touches a nerve, the nerve ends tingle.

~

Sound reaches out to colour the brain.

Interpretation begins.

Using the instrument to bring to life

The beautiful sounds of the alphabet.

~

Picturing a beautiful Swan from “The Carnival of the Animals”

Composed and created by Camille Saint-Saens.

© Written by John Yeo

CHICKENS AND CHOCOLATE

WEDNESDAY 29th JULY 2020

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..

CHICKENS AND CHOCOLATE 

by John Yeo

   Larry was a 10 years old legend among his boarding school fellows. He was leader of the Blaggards, a small group of six young lads who were always getting into mischief. They had got their colourful name from a local farmer who had chased them away from stealing apples from his orchard. ‘Come here you crowd of thieving blaggards;’ he was heard to cry out as the friends scattered in all directions.

   The group of friends were always together during the school day teasing the other pupils and making a nuisance of themselves. If they were a few years older they would have been labelled a gang of ne’er-do-wells and severely dealt with.

   There had recently been a national strike and the pupils were shocked to hear there would be no Easter eggs available anywhere this year. Larry was out walking in the school grounds with Walter and Jim when they heard the news from one of the prefects.

 ‘Oh no!’ Exclaimed Jim, ‘No Easter eggs, what next?’

 Walter shrugged and said, ‘Don’t worry, my parents always send me parcels full of chocolate bars, we can all feast on those.’

  Larry was quiet for a while and suddenly said. ‘I have an idea that is bound to work. Call all the Blaggards together,

 We will have our own supply of delicious Easter eggs. Trust me.’

There was excitement among the boys when they met up in the early hours of the morning a week before Easter. Larry had been hatching a plan and there had been some mysterious goings on.

Walter had been carrying a mysterious paper bag and scattering the contents in the farmers chicken pen for the last few days. The Blaggards were up early to collect some special eggs from the chickens. Larry was excited about collecting his first chocolate eggs laid by the chickens.

  There was a shock in store for them when they discovered  four dead chickens in the pen. They ran back to the school as fast as they could. 

© Written by John Yeo

Information from the web.

‘Chickens should not eat chocolate

The darker the chocolate, the more theobromine it contains and the more dangerous it is. … Chocolate is known to cause heart problems in birds which can range from an irregular heartbeat to full cardiac arrest and death will happen very quickly – within 24 hours of eating the chocolate.

26 Jan 2018′

THE WAY THINGS USED TO BE


TUESDAY 28th JULY 2020

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..

THE WAY THINGS USED TO BE

by John Yeo

Peter and his sister Jane were visiting their granny for tea,

‘Hello Granny! our teacher said, we should ask you please

To remember your life and the way things used to be’.

~

Granny yawned, and bluntly said; ‘Hard times, but we were free

Of social distancing, masks and a pandemic of death and disease’.

Peter and his sister Jane were visiting their granny for tea.

~

‘We didn’t have the internet Zoom, Facebook or Twitter you see’

Granny said, ‘Things were simpler then, it will not be a squeeze

For me to remember life and the way things used to be.

~

There weren’t many aircraft jetting off, on holiday over the sea

We never needed to quarantine from death or a viral sneeze’.

Peter and his sister Jane were visiting their granny for tea.

~

‘Food was too scarce to hoard; we fought a war to be free.

We never had to keep washing our hands, it seems a wheeze

When I remember life and the way things used to be.

~

I remember the times when simple things made me happy

Sun shining on the fields, laughing, playing and climbing trees’.

Peter and his sister Jane were visiting their granny for tea

Exploring her life and the way things used to be.

© Written by John Yeo

THE CHARDONNAY OF TRUTH

MONDAY 27th JULY 2020

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..

THE CHARDONNAY OF TRUTH

by John Yeo

   ‘Cheers!’ announced the toastmaster, smiling broadly. Everyone around the table raised their glasses to wish the happy couple well. The best man was tipsy and the wine was slowly going to his head.

The family around the table were full of cheer as toast after toast was made to speed the happy couple on their way to married bliss.

  Roger, the best man, was an old friend of the bridegroom, Peter. He’d known both Peter and Jane for years, ever since their college years together. 

 When it came time for the best man’s speech, Roger struggled to his feet and loudly burped, there was a ripple of surprise from the wedding guests seated around the top table. The speech went roughly as follows.

 ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I apologise for being slightly tipsy as I confess, I’ve overindulged in this excellent Chardonnay. I’ve known both of this happy couple for many years, especially Jane who I’ve been more than close to. In fact I knew Jane long before Peter and I’ve had the pleasure of eating and sleeping with her many times over the years since I’ve known her. You can imagine my feelings when my best friend came into our lives at college and stole her away from me.’ 

 There was a sudden silence around the table, in fact you could have cut the air with a knife. Roger clumsily picked up his glass and emitted another loud burp.

 Then announced, ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, please refill your glasses with the Chardonnay of truth as I make a toast to the happy couple. My best friend Peter and my adorable sister Jane, may they spend many happy years together.’

© Written by John Yeo

HE WAS HUNGRY FOR HER

SUNDAY 26th JUNE 2020

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..

Image courtesy of pixabay.com

HE WAS HUNGRY FOR HER

by John Yeo

Captain Martin a dedicated astronaut and flyer,

Met Mary Lee, a high flying flirt and a tease, 

He was so besotted he was hungry for her.

~

Captain Martin, enveloped with strong desire

The flight plan filled his heart with unease,

Captain Martin a dedicated astronaut and flyer.

~

Copilot Mary smiled as the rocket flew higher

The Captain was impressed with her expertise 

He was so besotted he was hungry for her.

~

Deep space surrounded the rocket, still on fire 

Mary Lee pouted, flashed her eyes to unfreeze

Captain Martin a dedicated astronaut and flyer.

~

The autopilot flew onward, Mary removed her attire

Captain Martin approached trying hard to please.

He was so besotted he was hungry for her.

~

The stars shone brilliantly, fate seemed to conspire

Lighting a scene for love, with no guarantees. 

Captain Martin a dedicated astronaut and flyer 

He was so besotted he was hungry for her.

© Written by John Yeo

Image courtesy of pixabay.com

BOTTLE OF BAMBOOZLED

SATURDAY 25th JULY 2020

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..

A BOTTLE OF BAMBOOZLED

by John Yeo

   His Lordship suddenly passed away from a massive heart attack. He’d always been a man who took risks and he’d invested the family fortune in fine art and antique furniture. His pride and joy had always been his wine cellar which was packed to the roof with racks containing many bottles of rare wine.

    Some months later when the late Lords affairs were settled her Ladyship received a huge bill for death duties. Lady Ronson, was a petite gray haired lady, who’d led a sheltered life, always leaving the financial decisions to her husband. 

     ‘What am I going to do?’ she asked her son. Sir Nigel, who was a sharp stockbroker, with extremely square shoulders. At 6’ 6”, he was a formidable looking man

       ‘Well Mother, we’ll have to raise money quickly by selling off the family silver, starting with Father’s wine cellar. I know just the people to deal with this for us, Coldmarten and Carter, a firm of auctioneers who specialise in fine wine.

  A few days later Sir Nigel arrived with a portly fellow with a handlebar moustache, wearing a brown tweed suit. 

    ‘Mother, allow me to introduce you to Professor Coldmarten, a respected, proficient, auctioneer, he would like to examine the wines in Father’s cellar with a view to valuing them for auction.’

     ‘Of course!’  said Lady Ronson.

Two hours later Professor Coldmarten and Sir Nigel approached Lady Ronson with some sad news.

   ‘Mother, I’m afraid, Dad has been consistently robbed and bamboozled over the years. Most of the wine in the cellar is valueless. Absolute plonk! We’ll have to have the death duties revised and sell this rubbish for what we can get. Sadly it won’t be much.’

  Some months later when the estate death duties had been revised, Sir Nigel bought a place in Bermuda and retired. Professor Coldmarten became quite prosperous from the sale of some exceptionally rare wines that seemed to have suddenly arrived on the market. Lady Ronson went to live in an upmarket sheltered accommodation.

 Sir Nigel and the Professor visited her Ladyship five years later and they all raised a glass from the last ‘bottle of bamboozled’.

Do you know, the wine was really rather good.

 © Written by John Yeo

BREAD AND BUTTER NEVER TASTED SO GOOD

FRIDAY 24th JULY 2020

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..

BREAD AND BUTTER NEVER TASTED SO GOOD 

by John Yeo

  Our hard work on the allotment had finally paid off and we were about to taste the fruits of our labour. We harvested some lettuce, tomatoes, beetroot, onions and some incredibly tasty soft fruit. We proudly took our crops home and laid them out on the kitchen table. Suddenly Margaret jumped back in surprise as a large green caterpillar idly rambled across the table. We both laughed out loud as I exclaimed, ‘Don’t worry, that’s all part of the fun of growing organic vegetables.’ Margaret quickly piled the lettuces into the kitchen sink and turned the taps full on. The stray caterpillar was gently placed on our lawn, I suspect this would have been an alien environment for this wanderer, as there are no handy lettuces nearby and many avian predators to contend with.

   Margaret then had the brilliant idea of preparing a huge club sandwich with some freshly baked homemade bread. I smiled in agreement. Soon the bread maker was in action and the familiar smell of freshly baked bread filled our kitchen. When the bread was made, Margaret cut a thin slice and liberally spread butter all over. The butter was visibly melting into the slice of hot, newly baked, fresh, homemade bread. I slowly consumed this taster, allowing the taste buds to savour the delicious flavour. Bread and butter never tasted so good. 

 I have to admit our club sandwich of fresh home grown tasty vegetables was a bit of an anticlimax after the initial taster. However we both thoroughly enjoyed our well earned, well deserved lunch.

© Written by John Yeo

MIND IN THE MAKING

THURSDAY 23rd JULY 2020

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..

MIND IN THE MAKING

by John Yeo

  There was silence in the outer hemispheres of the galaxy for millennia. The elder trolls were unique in the areas of communication throughout the exo-galactic panoply of extraordinary people. Their way of communicating by nonverbal means had been raised to new heights. 

 On an extraordinary blue planet life was formed and developed. Asteroids had collided and re-collided. Comets visited;  bringing chemicals to permeate a life-giving mix of chemicals giving rise to unique life-forms. Exoplasm mingled and re-mingled again in the hands of the entity that was controlling the flow of matter. 

 The life forms mixed and remixed, soon a survivor in the likeness of the controller emerged. “Hey!” Thought the controller; “I am almost there!”

 Then to his delight he heard the word. “Hey!” Repeated back to him.

Shocked, he silently strained his ultrasonic hearing to the limits.

Then the silence was broken by the familiar sound of his Mother’s voice resonating around the galaxy.

“God; put your toys away! It’s late!”

“Oh Mother! Please; Can’t I just have another couple of aeons?”

© Written by John Yeo