HALLO, WHO’S THERE?

SUNDAY 18th APRIL 2021 ~ FLASH FICTION ~ POETRY

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Last Post on WordPress’  

Prompt ~ UNKNOWN CALLER
You receive a call from an unexpected person. Who is it, and what is the conversation about? Go!

HALLO, WHO’S THERE?

by John Yeo

​   ’Hallo! who’s there?

Sorry, I’m a little hard of hearing lately, since my husband passed away. Can you speak up please dear?’ 

‘What’s that you say you’re not selling anything? That’s OK! I have nothing to spend my money on, I don’t need much.’

‘Oh! You say you want to make lots of money for me. I don’t need any more cash at the moment thanks.’

 ‘You sound like a nice young man. I bet you are wealthy, if you can show people how to get rich quickly. Are you married?’

  ‘It’s so good to have someone to talk to. I get lonely here on my own. I spoke to someone this morning and we had such a lovely long chat. He wanted to sell me something nice, I asked for more details. I explained my situation clearly, so nice to have a friendly ear. He asked for my bank details in such a nice helpful way.

I asked him if he was married and how things were with him.

He finally got exasperated and rudely slammed down the phone.’

’Hallo! who’s there?

   You say my computer needs a new service plan!

Tell me more, sounds interesting, so nice to have a chat.

What is your name and where do you live? I would love to meet you and get serviced by you. Are you a married man?’

‘You would like to have my bank details to start the service plan?

Great to hear a friendly voice. Give me your bank details first! We can then plan a future together.’

‘So nice to have someone to talk to. What’s your name and where do you live?’

 ‘Hello! Hello! Oh, he’s gone, I thought I heard the phone slam down only I’m a little hard of hearing now.’

’Hallo! who’s there?

“Hello! Yes, Double Glazing? That sounds so interesting .

I would love to hear more about that, you have such a friendly voice.

What? You haven’t got time for a chat? I love the sound of your voice. Who knows we could become really good friends. I might even buy some new windows, in a few years time.

Are you really going to cut me off before we get to know one another?

Call me again, just say hello. I promise to never hang up the phone;

It’s so good to have someone to talk to, I get lonely here on my own.

​Oh! Please don’t cut me off yet.

Bang!

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

CRANK-SHAFTED

FRIDAY 16th APRIL 2021 ~ FLASH FICTION

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Last Post on WordPress’ ~ 

Prompt ~ CRANK

CRANK-SHAFTED

 by John Yeo 

  ‘I tell you he’s a cranky old buzzard! Every time one of the local’s dogs pulls on the lead and steps onto his front lawn, he races out of the front door yelling his head off; cursing and waving his arms around. Why doesn’t he invest in a fence alongside the path? In my view, he ought to be locked up before he resorts to violence!’

   Mrs. Manners was annoyed and sounding off at PC Bott. 

    ‘Hmm!’ Said the Constable thoughtfully:  ‘You say he charges out of his door shouting? Has he ever made any direct threats of violence, or actually attacked anyone?’

   ‘Not that I know of,’ replied Mrs. Manners. ‘I will certainly ask around; lots of the neighbours here are fed up with the old rascal.’

  ‘Well, Mrs. Manners, I will have a word with him about this threatening behaviour and see what he has to say, but that is all I can do.’

  ‘I hope you won’t mention my name Constable, I don’t want any trouble, he’s probably mad at me since my husband went for him with a car crank handle. Purely in self-defence, you understand.’

  ‘Your husband did what? Exactly what do you mean by self-defence?’ asked the police officer, suddenly stern in his manner.

    Mrs. Manners hesitated for a moment before she said with tears in her eyes. ‘Well, it happened this morning: Our little doggie Poochie, pulled on the lead as we passed the property, and did his business on the old man’s lawn. I always pick the droppings up with a plastic bag. There was the usual terrible reaction as the old man came charging at me shouting and swearing. My husband had been trying to start the car with a crank handle and as the madman came rushing towards him he hit him with the crank handle.’

  ‘Don’t worry Mrs. Manners, I’ll deal with this: Is your 

husband home? I will need him to be here.’

    ‘Yes Constable: He’s indoors, he will be a great help with your enquiries.’

   The policeman took a deep breath and picked his radio up! 

  ‘Can I have backup, urgently please!’

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

DECISIONS? ~ DECISIONS?

 MONDAY 12th APRIL 2021 ~ FLASH FICTION ~ POETRY 

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Last Post on WordPress’ ~ Prompt ~ DECISIONS, DECISIONS


How are you more likely to make an important decision — by reasoning through it, or by going with your gut?


Personally I tend to tailor my decisions to the situation I am making the decision about, as I humorously describe in my little piece of poetic Flash Fiction below.

DECISIONS? ~ DECISIONS?

by John Yeo

   The fictional garden needs a lot of work and we are at the planning stage. I would say this internal dialogue suggests that in this case there was a lot of reasoning through the problem involved.

  ‘I think if we cut the trees down, we can lay lawns and have a lake for wild-fowl, with flower beds and borders. We can build a summer-house with many arbours and marble statues everywhere. Nature can be modelled, shaped and controlled.’

   ‘No! Why not have a forest garden and encourage wildlife with deer, squirrels and much birdlife. A natural garden would be best, we don’t need the artificiality of manicured lawns and borders, that is too much like hard work. Nature always wins in the end, whatever we do.’

  “We can always concrete the whole area over and build high-rise flats, we could make a lot of money that way. Nature would take a long time to win then!’

  ‘Now you are being silly, I know you don’t like to be overlooked and feel crowded, I see a natural garden, where we keep the trees and shrubs. We would have our isolation with privacy to write and create. We will have a vegetable plot with chickens in the middle of our own forest. Nature would be our friend and we would both win then.’

  ‘Yes! We can build a small gallery with workshops and encourage a community of artists and writers. We will build cabins in the yard and sell our work in the gallery shop. Nature would be our partner and our friend.’

  © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

THE FROTH OF A CONMAN   

SUNDAY 11th APRIL 2021 ~ FLASH FICTION ~ POETRY 

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘The Last Post on WordPress’

Prompt FROTH

FROTH

by John Yeo

  The conundrum for the day was how to turn a seemingly ordinary five letter word like froth into an interesting Blog post. 

   My ever-creative mind conjured a situation where my main character; call him Phil, a go ahead young man who unwittingly has become the target of Silas, a smooth-talking con man. Phil has engineered a number of lucrative deals for his employer HMQ and is in receipt of a generous bonus. 

  Silas has arranged a meet to discuss some dodgy investments. Realisation of the situation has set in for Phil, but curiosity drove him to attend the ill-starred meeting.

 I wrote a villanelle style poem to describe the meeting and the outcome. 

 After all this is poetry month and so far I’ve completed a poem-a-day……

THE FROTH OF A CONMAN   

by John Yeo



I avoided getting caught in his intricate web,
Becoming just another part of his vocal froth;
With guarded responses I never turned my head.

~

I kept my distance stayed free instead,

I’m part of a suit tailored from a different cloth,
I avoided getting caught in his intricate web.

~

The froth on his promises never soaked my bread;
The smart trickster used words to subtly rebuff,
With guarded responses I never turned my head.

~

The inn where we met was a place to dread,
Our meeting started smooth then dirty and rough

 As I avoided getting caught in his intricate web.

~
I escaped clean away quickly or I’d be dead,
Using my ingrained logic, I stayed my wrath;

With guarded responses I never turned my head.

~

I avoided the invitation to join in the thread
Of broken promises stirred into a palatable broth;
I avoided getting caught in his intricate web,
With guarded responses I never turned my head.



© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

CONFUSION 

  WEDNESDAY 7th APRIL 2021 ~ FLASH FICTION ~ POETRY

This prompt is from the ‘Story a Day’ site. Wednesday writing prompts. Hosted by Julie Duffy

The Prompt ~ Your character is searching for something…and time is running out.

CONFUSION 

by John Yeo

There is something I desperately need to know,

I must find out where I am! My location!

I lie here soul-searching for a solution,

My mind slips in and out of the flow.

My thoughts are the centre of my meditation.

Where am I? How did I get in this situation?

The answers are there and they come and they go,

I must find out where I am! My location!

I search hard to get control of the motion.

Of the patterns of thought fast and slow.

Where am I? How did I get in this situation?

I am paralyzed with mental frustration,

The clues are there and I know as I follow

I must find out where I am! My location!

My memory was good, many years ago,

Instant recollection, free from sorrow.

Where am I? How did I get in this situation?

My character of the moment is a solitary man who is recovering  consciousness from a massive car collision. He crawled away into a nearby thick, woody, copse, at the side of the road, where he became unconscious. Slowly, as he recovers his sense of awareness, he realises he is losing blood fast, drifting in and out of reality, he begins to search for himself with the slow realisation that his time is running out.

©  Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

.

PUFFY-EYED PIXIES

MONDAY 29th MARCH

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..

Prompt ~PUFFY-EYED PIXIES

https://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2021/03/01/march-2021-writing-prompts/

Image ~ Wikipaedia.com

PUFFY-EYED PIXIES

by John Yeo

This is the place where the dream was created,

A peaceful glade deeply shaded by trees. 

Where answers by the puffy-eyed pixies were related.

~

After daylight along a shady path a surprise awaited

The discovery of the pixies always happy to please

This is the place where the dream was created.

~

A tree-lined path subject to many myths was located

Fairies and little people living here with their ease 

Where answers by the puffy-eyed pixies were related.

~

The sad puzzle of a man with an ass head frustrated,

Rumoured to be magically transformed by degrees.

This is the place where the dream was created.

~

The Bottom of this conundrum was never clearly stated,

The Fairy King and Queen did their best to appease

Where answers by the puffy-eyed pixies were related.

~

The pixies in the dream Shakespeare demonstrated, 

Midsummer night, puffy-eyes, shady, well-pleased.

This is the place where the dream was created

Where answers by the puffy-eyed pixies were related.

~

 © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

LAUGHING LIKE LUNATICS

SATURDAY 27th MARCH 2021

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..

Prompt ~LAUGHING LIKE LUNATICS

https://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2021/03/01/march-2021-writing-prompts/

LAUGHING LIKE LUNATICS


by John Yeo



MIke and Steve Jones were laughing like crazy,

  ‘That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen, there was Ferdinand, our miserable neighbour, talking to a dandelion in his back garden.’

  A crowd of assorted patrons of, ‘The Dog and Duck’ gathered around the pair, sensing a welcome bit of a laugh. Mike started the tale.

     ‘Our garden was a mess, there had been an incredible North wind overnight that savagely tore through the garden. I leaned on my spade and surveyed the damage, branches and leaves had been ripped from our trees and were lying everywhere.’

  Ferdinand, our grumpy next door neighbour, was working in his garden, clearing up, when Steve winked at me and crept to the adjoining fence.

 I guessed what was going to happen next, in view of his ventriloquist talents, little did I know how brilliantly it would work.

   Steve threw a tiny voice and whispered  ‘Please don’t tread on me!’
  Shaken, as he thought he was totally alone, Ferdinand wheeled around in surprise.

   ‘I’m down here! Next to your incredibly large foot.’
Ferdinand scowled and looked down to find there was nothing there except dandelions, daisies and grass.

   ‘I can’t see you! If you are real and not a figment of my imagination, make yourself visible!’ he growled. 

  At this point we were both doubled up, shaking with laughter desperately trying not to laugh out loud. 

    Steve continued in the tiny voice ‘Look again! I am the good looking one with the purest yellow petals and a heart of gold.’ 

  Ferdinand looked around wildly and made to get away from there fast.

    ‘No! Don’t go please, I would love to talk to you about many things.’ begged the dandelion.

   ‘What do you mean by petals and a yellow heart? Do you mean to say you are a common dandelion? If so, I can’t tell one of you from another, you all look the same to me!’
The tiny dandelion’s voice reflected a note of annoyance as it politely stated.
  ‘Less of the common, big-feet. We have a unique way of survival that excludes individuality and we are rooted here as one. Funny though, I can never differentiate the different clodhoppers that stomp  around and squash our leaves and petals!    

    ‘That’s amazing!’ shouted Ferdinand to the array of dandelions around his feet.

  Then came a sound that was suspiciously like a giggle coming from the vicinity of the fence. Then a chuckle was clearly evident leading to an embarrassing roar of laughter, that led to enormous fits of laughter. 

Ferdinand’s face became bright red as he realised the implication of these odious sounds and remembered his neighbour was a ventriloquist and very skilled at throwing his voice.
We were both curled up laughing uncontrollably like lunatics.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

SHADY LAMPS


WEDNESDAY 24th MARCH 2021

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..

Prompt ~SHADY LAMPS

https://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2021/03/01/march-2021-writing-prompts/


SHADY LAMPS

by John Yeo


  The housemaster silently checked the dormitory to find 10 of the 20 beds had shaded lights where the occupants were reading under the bedclothes after lights out. He made no attempt to disturb them and silently left them alone. The next day in the Grammar session the teacher smiled and informed the class of the dangers of a lack of restful sleep. I yawned visibly as I drifted into an intense daydream.

   The lecture was long and intricately constructed of facts that had been stitched together in a cycle of repetition to set the mind drifting. Looking out of the window at the pouring rain. I liked the look of a flaxen haired girl riding by on a cycle. I believe there is life on the other side. Would you believe if the world was two sided, dreams could be split in two? The culmination of this interpretation is that dreams are an ongoing fantastical spread of nocturnal desire, flooding diurnal dreams with ideas that could never be shattered. That girl with the flaxen hair has become a part of my personal individual stream. In a world that is well grounded she is now a part of my diurnal dream, simply waiting to become a part of my nocturnal dream. Perhaps to be visualised as a character in my stream of nocturnal reading with the aid of shady lamps.

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

BANGING OUT A DISH

SATURDAY 20th MARCH 2021

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..

Prompt ~ BANGING OUT A DISH



BANGING OUT A DISH

by John Yeo

 The auctioneer’s assistant was gingerly holding up an unusual solid silver dish. The dish was lavishly decorated with engraved images of fruit and flowers. Billy the assistant was holding his breath, this was reputed to be an extraordinary piece of work. The illustrations were incredibly ornate and the markings on the base indicated that this piece originated in Russia. The professional theory was that this dish had been stolen and secretly smuggled into Britain. Rumour had it that this incredibly historical dish had once belonged to a girlfriend of Ivan the Terrible; the Tzar of all the Russia’s in the sixteenth century, who had presented a full dinner service to her as a gift to seduce her. This exquisite piece of silver was part of that set; the remainder of which was now housed in the famous Hermitage museum in St. Petersburg. Billy could feel his hand trembling slightly as this information was passed to the assembled buyers in the auction room.

 The auctioneer started his patter; the bidding was fierce and competitive between two buyers. 

  Finally with the words, ‘In banging out a dish of this historical quality, before I bring the gavel down for the final bang have I any further bids?’

 Right at that moment a man dressed strangely in a Russian Cossack outfit leapt at Billy waving a sword.

    ‘This is a bloodstained dish tainted with the blood of creatures consumed by creatures. Bloodstains that will never wash away!’

  Billy, in a shocked defensive reaction, threw the dish at the approaching swordsman. The dish bounced off the attackers head and then fell to the floor with a sickening, damaging thud.

 The Auctioneer, shocked; dropped his gavel, picked up a gun and shot the menacing intruder dead.

 History, in the form of a badly dented valuable dish, lay sedately on the  saleroom floor.

  The buyer claimed his property, maintaining he had secured a bargain as any competent silversmith would be able to restore it to its former glory by simply banging out the dents.

 © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

PARTY FANATICS 

FRIDAY 15th MARCH 2021

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..

Prompt ~ PARTY FANATICS 

PARTY FANATICS 

by John Yeo

  It was a special day of celebration for the Beelzebubs. Horatio, the eldest son in the Beelzebub family had reached his first century and the family were keen to raise hell.

  ‘Father! We must invite everyone in our social circle.’

   The head of the family flicked his tail across the table and responded. ‘Of course son the word will be spread through all the neighbouring covens, dens and magic circles at once.’

    Messengers were dispatched, the arrangements were finalised and preparations were soon completed.

  The night arrived, the guests flew and slithered towards the venue and the party was soon underway. 

   Devils, witches, wizards, and goblins were soon rocking the night away. A banquet was served of deviled kidney stew, sour cream sauce and blood red wine, mingled together in a heady brew keeping the evil frivolity under way. Horatio danced with an attractive witch with a head full of live snakes hissing to the beat of the music. It was difficult to find any room to spare as the monsters were at play. Everyone was having a terribly good time celebrating this special birthday when something occurred to break the spell. There was a loud bong, when a clang of the doorbell-gong announced a late arrival. A phantom butler answered the door, then jumped back in horror and fright.

  There in a shining white clerical collar stood a ghastly frightful nightmarish sight, a priest stood smiling broadly.

     ‘Good evening to you; can I speak to the person who is responsible for this party please?’

  The party-host, looked hard, scrutinised the interloper closely.

     ‘Who are you? Can I see your invitation card? This is a private haunting party.’

The priest, put his hands up in horror and said,

    ‘I’m not here to party. I’m here to complain. Would you kindly keep the noise down, the noise in the graveyard is waking the dead.’

   It was then the turn of the host to smile as he motioned the priest to enter.

  ‘Here is a special invitation card, stay with us for a while as we wait for our friends from the graveyard. Stay and enjoy the party.’

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.