MISANTHROPE

MISANTHROPE


  The island was just cliffs containing an enormous lighthouse. The lighthouse contained a keeper, but recently nobody had seen him. Provisions were delivered by a helicopter drop on a monthly basis. The pilot Tom landed, contacted base and reported a mechanical fault with the helicopter. Help was on the way.

 Tom knocked, there was no response, he tried the handle, the door was locked. He peered into the window and saw an unkempt, bearded, hunchbacked figure, sitting watching him, with an ugly scowl on his face pointing a gun. ‘Can you hear me?’ 

A loud bang was the reply.

© Written by John Yeo

PERISTERONIC

SATURDAY 1st AUGUST 2020 ~ FLASH FICTION

PERISTERONIC

by John Yeo

He was a streamlined silver blue streak

With smooth feathers and a sharp beak

Groomed and reared for perilous flight

Certain to reach home by day or by night.

He delivered his message absolutely sure

From electronic eavesdropping safely secure

His internal compass never led him astray 

Perfectly pigeon in every possible way.

(53 WORDS)

© Written by John Yeo

HINTERLAND

SATURDAY 18th JULY 2020 ~ FLASH FICTION

HINTERLAND

by John Yeo

 Billy was an urban rat, part of a large ratpack. Food was becoming scarce during the lock-down of the two-legged giants. No-one was eating in their restaurants and discarded food was becoming scarcer. The leader of the pack called the rats to a mass meeting. 

  ‘Listen friends, we’re moving out to the green fields of the farms with grain stores, and mounds of food growing everywhere.’

  There was a chorus of agreement, then Roberta Rat shouted.

‘ Where are we off to Boss?’

‘The hinterland just outside town.’

(87 WORDS)

© Written by John Yeo

DON’T TELL ME ITS FATE

TUESDAY 14th 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..

DON’T TELL ME ITS FATE

by John Yeo

‘Don’t tell me it’s fate.

I know it’s sad to relate, but I had to do it before it was too late.

After all, I am getting on and I’ve reached my elderly years.

The consequences of holding off would engender fears

Spending the rest of my life with the deep frustration of not accomplishing a dream.

 My instincts told me when to act, don’t hesitate by using polite tact.

Take the bull by the horns and never stop to look back. 

Hesitation is a stumbling block to the accomplishment of long held schemes. 

Some would say the only way forward is to follow your dreams.

Seek the answers by studying every aspect exceptionally well,

Weigh up the pros and cons and feel your confidence swell.

Each minute one spends in dithering and simple procrastination 

Is a stumbling block that will deny me the satisfaction.

Finally when time comes together and it begins to gestate 

The last thing I need after planning and scheming the wait

Is for me to respond, yeah that’s great!  (Don’t tell me it’s Fate).’

© Written by John Yeo

KILLER OF PLASMA TV’S

SATURDAY 11th 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..

KILLER OF PLASMA TV’S

by John Yeo

   Professor Vince was working on mind magic. A way of allowing people to experience their own individual versions of television programmes delivered through a special mind controlled screen. 

    ‘Jimmy, think of a programme you would like to see, or just say programmes into the magic box.’

    ‘Yes Professor,’

Jimmy thought of football and instantly a match was relayed onto a blank picture frame set up in the lab. Time and again the programmes changed to his personal preferences on the instant of a thought. With a sparklingly realistic picture on the blank canvas in the picture frame.

   ‘Wow! This is an impressive new technology, how much will it cost to be developed?’

  Suddenly Jimmy collapsed on the laboratory floor and stopped breathing. He came round after some resuscitation and began to comment on a nonexistent football match garbled with travel programmes, mixed up with history programmes and peppa pig.

  The Professor gave a shrug of his shoulders and remarked, ‘Further experimentation will be required. Meantime LCD televisions are a far better buy than Plasma televisions.’

  Jimmy was confined for treatment in hospital and is still there to this day.

© Written by John Yeo

~~~~~~~

RESEARCH from Wikipedia 

Until about 2007, plasma displays were commonly used in large televisions (30 inches (76 cm) and larger). Since then, they have lost nearly all market share due to competition from low-cost LCDs and more expensive but high-contrast OLED flat-panel displays. Manufacturing of plasma displays for the United States retail market ended in 2014,[1][2] and manufacturing for the Chinese market ended in 2016.[3][4][needs update]

THE CAVORTING CAVALIER

SATURDAY 11th JULY 2020 ~ FLASH FICTION

https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/author/sammicoxwriter/

THE CAVORTING CAVALIER

  It was rodeo day on the ranch, everyone came in fancy dress.

The costumes were magnificent from Nell Gwynn to good Queen Bess.  

  A rider was dressed as a sailor making waves on a bucking bronco. 

  Portly King Henry the eighth, rode a pony and trap.

The star of the show was a feathered Cavalier riding on a fierce bum steer, spinning a lariat.

© Written by John Yeo

(64 WORDS)

LIT BY THE DAWN

THURSDAY 9th 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..

LIT BY THE DAWN 

by John Yeo

A peaceful scene soon lit by the dawn.

As creatures gathered by the waterhole 

A pitch black night slowly began to reform

~

The rising sun picked out the animals drawn

A mother nurses and shields her foal

A peaceful scene soon lit by the dawn.

~

Predators waiting prepare to storm

As thirst is slaked without control.

A pitch black night slowly began to reform.

~

Green hills reflect the rising sun and adorn

Antelope Impala, Zebra joining the shoal

The peaceful scene was soon lit by dawn.

~

Sounds break the silence, a picture redrawn

Stampede and flight from the watering hole

A pitch black night slowly began to reform

The unpeaceful scene soon lit by dawn.

© Written by John Yeo

THE STING OF REJECTION

Sunday 5th 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 STING OF REJECTION 

 The scene was played out in the rural peace of central suburban England. Deaven and Gertie were lovers and they had enjoyed a long affair together throughout their years at University.

 They had returned from a long holiday together in the sun of the Caribbean now a fragment of both of their memories as they landed in windswept, rain-lashed England.

‘Will your parents be at home when we get there Gertie? I would like to meet them and have a chat with your father.’

‘Yes! They should be there Deaven. What do you want to see him about?’ asked Gertie, feigning ignorance.

Deaven smiled and said nothing in response to this. The chauffeur was waiting for them when they alighted from the train and they were whisked off to the Manor House; Gertie’s home.

Immediately they arrived; after the introductions had been completed, Deaven asked to have a private word with Gertie’s father and the two of them retired to the library.

Raised voices could be heard and the noise of a gunshot broke the silence of the manorial splendour.

The servants dashed in to find one man shot dead and the other man with a serious head wound. 

It seems Deaven had asked for the hand of Gertie in marriage and the sting of her father’s response of total rejection had caused him to lose his sense of reality. Deaven had pulled a ceremonial sword off the wall and attacked the overbearing man. Gertie’s Father had pulled a gun from a desk drawer and killed the young man in self defence.

The tragic effect of the sting of abject rejection had a permanent irredeemable effect on all their lives.

© Written by John Yeo