A PINCH OF PURPOSE

FRIDAY 16th OCTOBER 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..

Today’s prompt ~ A PINCH OF PURPOSE

A PINCH OF PURPOSE

by John Yeo

   Magwich, Megan and Mary had been friends for years. They’d all met up at Professor Merlin’s magical college in the depths of a root encrusted, mysterious, haunted wood. No one who graduated from this academy had any illusions about their future careers. They left as fully qualified witches. 

  Magwich was a tall slim attractive blonde, with blue sparkling eyes that had a habit of involuntary fluttering whenever she was concentrating. She wore her traditional black pointed hat at a jaunty angle that betrayed something of an impish sense of humour. Her parents were successful industrialists who hadn’t done much research when they’d sent her away to school. They were just happy to have her education completed at a school where she would be well looked after.

   As a total contrast, Megan was born to be a witch, her parents were both steeped thoroughly in the magical arts and they knew exactly what they wanted for their only child. Her father was a practical working wizard who had enjoyed great success in curing people through his use of magical spells. He had been somewhat disappointed when he discovered he’d fathered a daughter, although he was genuinely proud of her. His wife Miranda thought the world of her bright, dark eyed daughter, with her long flowing black locks that hung freely down her shoulders. Megan was somewhat short and quite dumpy, which was a direct result of her mother spoiling her and over feeding her with tasty titbits from the family cauldron.

    Mary, our third and most remarkable member of this trio of spellbinding witches was an individual character in her own right . She had bright reddish auburn hair and a fiery temper to match. Mary was an orphan. No one knew what had become of her parents, or indeed if she had ever bothered to be born to conventional parents. The story went that she was the offspring of an egg laying large black tabby cat and a red feral feline wanderer. Apparently they were shapeshifters who had been originally born in the shape of humans and were able to take the feline form at will.

  Professor Merlin was seemingly an easygoing wizard who had educated many students over the centuries and inoculated them all with a sense of purpose. It wasn’t until you looked into his eyes that you realised there was a streak of steel running through his educational purpose.

  Graduation day had arrived and Magwich, Megan and Mary were destined to become a coven in a far off nation, where they were to reside until they received further orders from the Professor. 

Mary acted as a natural leader and she bluntly said. 

    ‘Listen here you two, we haven’t been informed what this elusive sense of purpose is. I’m certain it’s not going to be pleasant for certain people and I need you both to be loyal and obedient to our coven. We are going to live in a place in the Black Forest in a country far away from here.’

    Magwich flicked her blonde hair to one side, fluttered her right eye and spat on the floor. ‘Look Mary, I don’t take your orders but I respect your judgment. If we have to live together indefinitely I will do my best to tolerate you and your insolence but don’t push us too far.’

   Megan scowled and nodded at these remarks and aggressively responded. ‘My Dad is an important practising wizard and he knows what this sense of purpose is. I have been shown the universal sign of a magical sense of purpose.’

    With that she turned to Mary and administered a sharp pinch on her face that resulted in a scream of agony. Mary instantly retaliated and viciously pinched Megan back. Mary then savagely pinched Magwich and soon all three young witches were rolling all over the place pinching each other wildly, on the buttocks, in the face, literally everywhere.

   Suddenly there was a loud shout as the Professor arrived and waved his magic wand and some sort of peace was restored.

    ‘I’m happy to see you have all administered  several pinches of purpose to each other. Bear in mind you are all equal and I’m equally proud of you all. There aren’t any leaders among you. You will all work together or I will see you are reminded with some further unpleasant pinches of purpose. These will be stronger and more hurtful. Now go in peace and work together for the benefit of your coven.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

AUTHENTIC ARGUMENT

Photo by John and Margaret

WEDNESDAY 20 MAY 2020

 

  I thought I would indulge in some flash fiction today.

The photograph is a picture I snapped in a theatre Margaret and I visited in Stratford-upon-Avon, five years ago. The bust that is central to this display is of course the immortal bard surrounded by colourful costumes. There is a small fountain tinkling away in the foreground giving some wonderful atmospheric sound effects.

Supposing, just supposing, the great playwright came back to life and applied to act the leading role in a production of one of his plays.

 

AUTHENTIC ARGUMENT

by John Yeo

A letter received by a would-be Hamlet.

THE AUTHENTIC SHAKESPEARE COMPANY

Stratford-Upon-Avon.

Dear Sir.

 We are pleased to inform you that your application to play Hamlet in our current production has been successful. In view of your extensive past experience of playing this role, and the excellent performance you treated us to at the interview. Please report to the director at the theatre next Wednesday morning, where you will meet the rest of the cast.

Yours faithfully,

Jonathon Milton

~~~~~~

Wednesday at the Authentic theatre

  ‘Hello Luvvies, wonderful to meet you all, I am here to replace your leading man, I hear he is not very well, I’m sorry to hear that. I’m William! I understand if we have a successful informal rehearsal first, then we can have a full dress rehearsal this afternoon.’

    ‘That’s right William, Grab a stool and start following the lines when we begin. You were very impressive during the interview, everyone was amazed at the way you read your lines from memory. Although there were a few anomalies and variations from the script. Nothing we can’t iron out though. After all, we don’t want to change the words of the immortal bard.’

    Later in the pub, the talk is all about the wonderful, trouble free rehearsal of the morning and the full dress rehearsal to follow, this afternoon.

    ‘William please  have another good home brewed stout! Sorry they don’t serve sack here, perhaps if we ask them to order some especially for you, then you can enjoy it while you are working here!’

     ‘Fine thanks! I won’t have another drink now. If I drink too much then I will be heady this afternoon.’ Replied William.

    Back at the theatre, William is shown to the star’s dressing room. ‘Here are your costumes made to an authentic Elizabethan design. Good job you are the same build as our previous leading man. The makeup artist will be along shortly.’

     ‘WHAT! I was under the impression this was an authentic production. You have even altered the original words out of all recognition. I know the author, William Shakespeare would never have applied modern day makeup. I am not a circus clown man!  I would like to see the Director.’  Shouted William irritability. ‘Get him at once!’

    ‘Yes Sir!’ said the stage hand.

   The Director arrived and was stunned to hear about this turn of events.

   William shouted at him, before he could open his mouth.  “If I’m expected to  mouth incomplete sentences and words that have been subtly altered, then to have this muck applied to my face, then I refuse to play the part. It’s bad enough that the original play has been altered forever over the centuries.’

  The Director scratched his head and firmly replied, ‘Are you mad? This play is a word-for-word adaptation from the Folger library, based on the First Folios. Now I suggest you get your coat and clear off back to where you came from!’

  William was taken aback by this attitude and as he was putting his coat on he shouted,  ‘I will refer this non-authenticity to the trades description department of the Lord Chancellor’s Office.’

Copyright © Written by John Yeo All rights reserved.

 

 

photo of black ceramic male profile statue under grey sky during daytime

Photo by Mike on Pexels.com

Copyright © Written by John Yeo All rights reserved.

 

 

LUCKY NUMBER

LUCKY NUMBER ~ A little revision with a slight deviation from the usual subjective vision. Take a four-leafed clover and break off a leaf then subject yourself to much derision. Such is the usual consequence of breaking the mold.

LUCKY NUMBER
by John Yeo

There were three witches stirring the broth
Of the cauldron of fabulous fortune.
Three wise men stared into crystal balls.
A trio of wizards studied the runes.
Three answers to my question gave birth
To my tri-universal problematic equation.

~

The significant number with firm proof
You will need to follow wherever you roam,
A number that will always be with you;
The key to your future in a third dimension
Wherever you roam in Sea, Sky or Earth.
Look to the cycle of a mystical threesome.

~

Your lucky number will be with you forever
Engendering three branches of fortune
Three spins; Good, Bad or Indifferent.
Look to the leaves of a four leafed Clover
Then break of a leaf and feel the power.
Of this harsh sometimes brutal world
Where luck lies with the accident of birth.

~

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

NO SMOKE WITHOUT FIRE

 This week in honor of St. Patrick’s Day, Pegman takes us to Rams Island, an island on a lake in Northern Ireland. Though I picked a remote spot, you’re welcome to choose a more urban location anywhere in Northern Ireland.

Your mission is to write up to 150 words inspired by the prompt. Once your piece is polished, share it with others using the Linkup below.

Ram’s Island, Northern Ireland | Darran McDonnell, Google Maps

NO SMOKE WITHOUT FIRE

by John Yeo

  Billy and Pat, an adventurous pair of treasure hunting fanatics were chortling away at what they had discovered inside the chimney. An incredibly old and extremely beautiful locked box. This box was bound with rusted, salt-encrusted metal bands that were so corroded they were almost crumbling away. Pat gingerly rubbed the top of the box to reveal the hairy smiling face of a strange horned man. Intricate carving and strange writing with a floral emblem surrounded this kindly face.

  ‘We’ve got something good here Billy.’

   ‘Aye Pat! We’ll get some good money for this!’

Pat suddenly grabbed a rock and smashed the metal bands.

 Billy was shocked. ’What did you do that for?’

   ‘To see what’s inside, might be gold or jewels,’ replied Pat,

  Slowly Billy raised the tight-fitting lid. Dense smoke filled the air. Surrounded by ethereal music the two treasure hunters passed out. The box was gone?

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

THE GARDENER

This is my original rough take on the prompt before I had to rip it down to 150 words

Greenland | Johan van den Bos, Google Maps

Welcome to What Pegman Saw, a 150-word weekly writing prompt inspired by the photos found on Google Maps. This week Pegman is still wandering around in the Northern Hemisphere. However, this time Pegman visits Greenland for the first time

THE GARDENER

by John Yeo

It had been a good year for old Tekkeitsertok, in his garden on the side of a sheltered hill, located just outside of Nuuk, the largest town in Greenland. This year had been warm, the lake was full of crystal clear water and his plants were thriving.

Tekkeitsertok was expecting visitors his two grandchildren, Pana and Arnaq were on the way.

With a dual yell of delight, two young tornadoes rushed up suddenly and threw their arms around him.

 

‘Hi, Grandad!’ Shouted Arnaq, a sweet looking young lady, and the older of the two.

 

Pana, eighteen months her junior was a sturdy young man of thirteen who would hunt, shoot and fish with the older men, grinned broadly. ‘We want to see the miracle of your growth Grandad, will you teach us how you can produce such nice food from those tiny seeds?’

 

‘Of course, children, but we will need longer than a day.’ replied the weary-looking elderly man.

 

Suddenly Pana said, ‘Grandad, I have a question.’

 

‘What is it Pana?’

 

‘Grandad, your name is Tekkeitsertok, after the god of hunting, yet you are here growing vegetables. What happened?’

 

Arnaq, his older sister caught her breath and shook her brother, ‘Don’t ask stupid questions Pana!’

 

Tekkeitsertok smiled and said, ‘It’s alright young lady, I will enlighten you both. I have killed many animals in my life, for warm clothing, for meat and even for fashion furs. I have seen many things. One day I was trapped under an ice floe, when a pure white wolf sunk his teeth into my, now useless left arm and dragged me away. I passed out. Sometime later, I came back to life and I remember a deep growling voice that repeatedly said the killing must stop.’

I then came around to find myself on a sled pulled by five white huskies with eyes that seemed to say. “Remember!”

Since that day I have never killed again except when hunger drove me to kill for food.’

Both children were silent as they watched their Grandad handle his spade with one hand to till the soil.

The lessons had just begun.

©️Written by John Yeo ~ All Rights Reserved

Note

Inuit Names

Tekkeitsertok/ Mans name

(God of hunting or master of Caribou)

Pana/ Boys name

(God who cares for souls)

Arnaq/ Girls name

(Woman or Girl)

~~~

After my Buzz-saw had ripped it down to 150 words 

The Gardener

by John Yeo

Tekkeitsertok’s garden was located near Nuuk, the largest town in Greenland.

Tekkeitsertok, had visitors, Pana and Arnaq.

‘Hi, Grandad!’ Shouted Arnaq, the older of the two.

Pana, said, ‘Teach us how you produce food from those tiny seeds?’

‘We will need longer than a day.’ replied Tekkeitsertok.

‘Grandad, your name is Tekkeitsertok, after the god of hunting, yet you are here growing vegetables. What happened?’

Tekkeitsertok said. ‘I had killed many animals. One day I was trapped under an ice floe when a white wolf sunk his teeth into my arm and dragged me away. I passed out and a deep growling voice said, ‘The killing must stop.’ I found myself on a sled pulled by five white huskies with eyes that seemed to say, “Remember!”

I have never killed again.’

Both children watched their Grandad, handle his spade with one hand to till the soil. The lessons had begun.

(150 WORDS)

© Written by John Yeo all rights reserved,

THE GARDENER

Welcome to What Pegman Saw, a 150-word weekly writing prompt inspired by the photos found on Google Maps.
This week Pegman is still wandering around in the Northern Hemisphere. However this time Pegman visits Greenland for the first time.

Greenland | Johan van den Bos, Google Maps

THE GARDENER


by John Yeo

Tekkeitsertok’s garden was located near Nuuk, the largest town in Greenland. Tekkeitsertok, had visitors, Pana and Arnaq.

‘Hi, Grandad!’ Shouted Arnaq, the older of the two.

Pana, said, ‘Teach us how you produce food from those tiny seeds?’

‘We will need longer than a day.’ replied Tekkeitsertok.

‘Grandad, your name is Tekkeitsertok, after the god of hunting, yet you are here growing vegetables. What happened?’

Tekkeitsertok said. ‘I had killed many animals. One day I was trapped under an ice floe when a white wolf sunk his teeth into my arm and dragged me away. I passed out and a deep growling voice said, ‘The killing must stop.’ I found myself on a sled pulled by five white huskies with eyes that seemed to say, “Remember!”

I have never killed again.’

Both children watched their Grandad, handle his spade with one hand to till the soil. The lessons had begun.

(150 WORDS)

© Written by John Yeo all rights reserved

WAITING

Sunday Photo Prompt 25/02/2019

The challenge is to write a story using 200 words or less based, on the photo prompt.

Photo Credit: C. E. Ayr

WAITING


by John Yeo

I just wonder if this will be the one, the train my destiny will be on. I have stood on this platform many times during this last month since I received the last letter to say you would be coming home. I hate the thought of this crazy Afghan war, separating us any longer. I wish I’d never applied to join the forces to serve our country. I guess I was caught up in the patriotic fervour that swept the country, whipped up by stirring stories in the media. I was shocked when I discovered I was judged unfit for service and even more so when you informed me with a smile, that you’d applied and been accepted. I knew you were a special person when I asked you to be my wife, I never expected women to be allowed to serve, even Nurses. I have prayed for your survival every day since that terrible moment you were hit by a snipers bullet when you were desperately trying to save a life. Our separation has been excruciatingly painful and I’ve missed you and thought of you every single minute.
Please come home safely my darling fiancée!

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

(196 WORDS)





FATHERS DILEMMA

Welcome to What Pegman Saw, a 150-word weekly writing prompt inspired by the photos found on Google Maps.

This week Pegman takes us to Portmeirion Village in Wales.

Portmeirion Village, Wales | Google Maps

FATHERS DILEMMA


by John Yeo

Not many people are aware of a valley near Portmeirion that is a renowned centre for Cryopreservation. My Father was Sir Alexander Hastings, a wealthy Industrialist, I was the only family member who shared a secret. Father had been diagnosed with terminal Cancer one month ago. He had deteriorated rapidly but he had suddenly altered his plans for a revolutionary preservation of his body by Cryonics. Father is a devoutly religious man who wondered if freezing his body at the point of death, with the hope of awakening when a cure for Cancer had been found he would be interfering with God’s plans for him. Would he be the same person he once was or an empty shell of the memory of who he once had been? Would he be rudely reawakened from eternal life?
Father will finally be at rest in the graveyard of the Pink Church in Portmeirion.

© Written by John Yeo ~All rights reserved

The Pink Church in Portmeirion

LITTLE GOODY TWO SHOES

Sunday Photo Prompt 25/02/2019

The challenge is to write a story using 200 words or less based, on the photo prompt.

Photo Courtesy of Susan Spaulding

LITTLE GOODY TWO SHOES


by John Yeo

Matilda was a gifted child, always at the top of her class, with many other talents, she was well thought of in her community. Matilda was a chorister in the church choir, always singing her heart out and bringing tears to the eyes of everyone who heard her. She got straight A’s in her exams and she was looking forward immensely to going to university, to study Creative Writing.
Her sixth form friends had a nickname for her, Matilda was known as little Goody Two Shoes.
Four years later there was a huge shock to everyone who knew her when Matilda’s photograph was splashed across the front pages of the daily newspapers. Everyone was shocked to hear that Matilda was the brains behind a series of financial insurance scams.
In her defence, Matilda stated she had started to experiment to research a book she intended to write, and the whole thing just got out of hand. The Judge showed no mercy as he ordered her ill-gotten gains be seized and sent her to jail.
Matilda served two years in prison and became incredibly wealthy from the sales of a series of books based on her experiences.

(196 WORDS)

© Written by John Yeo all rights reserved.

Early April Yeti

Welcome to What Pegman Saw, a 150-word weekly writing prompt inspired by the photos found on Google Maps. 

Mount Everest

Mount Everest base camp, Nepal | mkslalove Google Maps

EARLY APRIL

by John Yeo

’The thing is; Bill: There are too many people here. This base camp is becoming overcrowded. Someone was wandering around in the dark outside our tent last night. I woke and went outside, but all I could see was a large shadow heading towards the mess tent.’

Bill looked astonished at this revelation.

Fortescue continued. ‘During supper some time ago Sherpa was telling us the locals have a legend about a saucer in the sky that landed here for some days and then took off. Rumour has it one of the aliens stayed behind. They have seen him on the mountain and they call him Yeti. Professor Rawlings believes there is a monster on the prowl. He found a large pile of excreta on the foothill, roughly covered with snow. Apparently, he’s sent a sample off to the lab for analysis.’

‘Really, Forty is it April 1st. already?’

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved