MUDDLED MEMORY

RANDOM WRITING PROMPT
TUESDAY 27th OCTOBER 2020 ~ FLASH FICTION 

   You bought a memory foam pillow at a garage sale. Little did you know that it wasn’t an ordinary pillow. The pillow gave whoever was lying on it the memory of its previous users. 

~~~~~~

THE MUDDLED MEMORY 

by John Yeo

    I’m a single man, living in a sparsely-furnished bedsit in a densely populated area of the city. It was pushing the bounds of reason to describe this place as furnished when I first rented it and I had bought many items to make things a little more comfortable from local charity shops and garage sales.

 It was Sunday night when I started to feel odd. I remember suddenly waking with an urgent desire to visit the bathroom. I was feeling quite muddle-headed and I had to blindly force myself to remember where the bathroom actually was. I simply put this down to the result of a heavy-headed sleep and I got back into bed and tried to sleep. 

  I lay awake for a while and my mind began to drift over some odd subjects. I began to worry about getting caught and arrested by the police for my crimes. The criminal offences I was ruminating over were connected with money-laundering and extortion. I remember thinking they were just a series of ultra-realistic dreams. I brought to the surface of my mind a whole sequence of events and places where I apparently had lived and images of the people who were also involved in these criminal activities. Eventually I drifted off into a deep sleep until the alarm clock shrilled out and it was time to get up.

  I dressed for work and stopped in a small local cafe for breakfast. The weird dreamlike experiences from the night suddenly came to mind as I sat and ate and I thought I recognised the area where I was supposed to have lived and committed my crimes. The house was much like a large detached place where I had stopped to buy some items for my flat from a nice lady who was having a garage sale to clear some unwanted effects.

  I didn’t think anything else about the dream when I got to work as I was far too busy working on some intricate accounts.

  I was shattered at the end of the day as I hadn’t slept too well the night before and I went to bed early, where I immediately fell into a deep sleep. I woke a couple of hours later and visited the bathroom, again I was unsure where the bathroom actually was and I seemed to be unfamiliar with the way things were situated. I returned to the bed and tried to sleep again, without much success. 

  My pillow was uncomfortable and I turned it over and over trying to get the memory foam to fit my posture. Then I remembered I was married to a lady named Jean and we had been wed for three years. My brother and sister were also living in our house temporarily but they had both recently left the house. Jean had cleared everything out from their rooms, dumped some junk and had a garage sale with some other items, in aid of a local charity.

 I was heavily involved in a betting business where I made high profits from money-laundering and much besides.

  The next day everything faded into the background when I woke and I dragged myself to work and over my lunch break I confided in my friend Shirley.

  We decided to visit the house I remembered from my dream, on some pretext and check out the lie of the land. When we got there we found the house empty and shuttered up, the neighbour next door informed us they had moved overnight.

   When we arrived at the office there was a message for me from my neighbour at home to let me know there had been a fire in my house and the whole two flats, including mine, had been destroyed.

  Shirley and her husband immediately offered me the benefit of their spare room for a while until I was able to find somewhere to live.

   Strangely, I never, ever, experienced those strange dream-like feelings again.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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

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 CURE

The Baths, British Virgin Islands | © Boat Rentals Virgin Islands, Google Maps

Welcome to What Pegman Saw, a 150-word weekly writing prompt inspired by the photos found on Google Maps ~ The Baths, British Virgin Islands

THE CURE


by John Yeo

David was battling severe eczema. Davids’ face was a swollen mass of scaly skin. There’s no cure for atopic eczema.
David met Doctor Arpachshad, an American, with a dazzling smile and a reputation for effecting miracle cures.
One day Dr. Arpachshad excitedly called David.
‘Good news, I have a lotion guaranteed to clear up your condition. It’s made from the skin of a Lioness on heat, trapped and skinned on the night of a full moon. The lotion needs to be applied after a soak in the baths located on the British Virgin Islands.’
‘How much will it cost?’ asked David.
‘£20,000 pounds cash; double if you pay by another method.
David was unable to raise this money but there is a strange twist to this tale. The family visited the baths on the British Virgin Islands and Davids eczema was miraculously cured.

(149 WORDS)

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST (2)

THIS IS A CONTINUATION BEYOND THE RESTRICTED 150 WORDS OF THE ORIGINAL PROMPT

Welcome to What Pegman Saw, a 150-word weekly writing prompt inspired by the photos found on Google Maps. Yep, that’s really a picture of Manhattan. Inwood Park, at the very tip of the island, is one of the few places on the island that looks as it did three hundred years ago.

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Version 2

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

by John Yeo

  Gerald stood at the top of the hill transfixed and just stood drinking in the absolute beauty that seemed to reach out and draw him on. Georgina breathlessly caught up, then gasped with surprised wonder.
  Suddenly there was a chuckle as a rough looking stranger emerged from the depths of a nearby copse. A middle-aged, rather overweight, bearded man stood before them, he had long greasy black hair, with grey streaks, held in position with a battered trilby hat. His bushy black eyebrows met in the middle, atop a large crooked nose. He suddenly opened his mouth to reveal a blackened set of uneven, crooked, gap-filled teeth.

   ‘I see both of you young people are overwhelmed with this place. I’m Captain Ted, a hungry man and I’ll thank you to turn out your pockets and give me everything you find in them. Oh! And I’ll take that smartphone you’re clutching young man.’

  Georgina loudly screamed! ‘Go away you horrible man, I’ll scream the place down and you will be locked up by the Police.’ Screaming loud enough to split her lungs apart.

The stranger suddenly raised his gnarled walking stick in a threatening manner. ‘Stop that ruddy noise of I’ll break your curly head open.’
Startled, Georgina stopped screaming and stood with tears streaming down her face.
Gerald stepped forward and emptied his pockets and handed everything he had over to the stranger.

   ‘You coward!’ shouted Georgina sobbing loudly.

The stranger chuckled and held the club threateningly above her head.

  ‘That’s a good lad, now hand me that smartphone. I’ve always wanted one of those! Give it here! Quickly lad.’
As Gerald held out his smartphone to the stranger he demonstrably pressed a button twice and held the screen up towards the man.

  ‘You see these two nines on this screen!’ said Gerald.

 The man suspiciously nodded and gruffly said.
   ‘Just hand over the phone without any monkey-business or I’ll break her pretty little head open with my stick, then I’ll hurt you too.’

  Gerald took a deep breath and said, ‘Listen here you crook! If I press another nine on this smartphone, It will dial 999 and summon the Police. There will be a helicopter overhead instantly.’

     ‘Don’t lie to me you little monkey! How will they know where we are?’ said the stranger visibly unsure of this turn of events.

  ‘Why do you think they call them smartphones you ignoramus?’
Gerald then demonstrably pressed the nine button.
With a curse, the unkempt villain took to his heels and ran for his life.
Georgina looked at Gerald with new respect.

  ‘Sorry I called you a coward. How did you know he would believe your story?’

  Gerald laughed and said, ‘I guessed he hadn’t a clue about smartphones and I just took a chance.’

(463 WORDS)

© John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

 

JUSTIFICATION

A REEDSY PROMPT

Write a myth to explain a mysterious part of life (such as what happens after death).

Unicorns

Image Courtesy of pixabay.com

JUSTIFICATION

by John Yeo

 

  I heard it from my Father, who heard it from his Father. The origins of the tale go far back in the mists of time. Apparently, the saying goes that a horse with a horn situated in his nasal area, actually raised his head and spoke. Of course at that particular period in time, nobody understood what he had tried to say.

The Shaman, as the wisest person present, led the creature into a small field attached to his hut. A little later a loud whinny was heard by the assembled villagers. A sound that was enough to send shivers down the spines of the hardest-hearted person there.  

Soon the Shaman came into view and sternly said ‘It is finished.’  

Wiping the blood from a huge sacrificial knife, he said. ‘We must end the line of animals that presume to be equal to us by talking.’

The Chief of the village then came forward and addressed his subjects. ‘Kill any horse born with a horn. Especially the creatures that have the temerity to attempt to speak.’

There was a murmur of approval and cheers from the assembled villagers.

 Following this major event, almost every horse born with a horn was slaughtered.

  I say almost, as there were survivors. A group of three of these unusual animals were corralled and secreted in a valley surrounded by dense jungle.

 Danito, who lived with his woman and lifelong partner Marita were isolated from the rest of their neighbours and treated these lovely creatures as equals. Marita even learned to speak to them in a basic but quite fluent way.

 The Shaman was quite sure that the Chief’s instructions had been carried out and the unusual creatures were gone.

 Until the special day, Marita’s Father decided to pay her a visit to celebrate her birthday. Marita knew her Father was a mystical man, although she hadn’t seen him for many years, she welcomed this visit.

 Unbeknown to Danito and Marita the person who arrived was the Shaman, who happened to be Marita’s Father.

  Suffice to say, when the Shaman had greeted his daughter, there was a huge welcome and a feast was consumed. With wine served from the horns of a strange animal.

    ‘What meat is this?’ asked the Shaman.

  Marita replied, ‘This is the meat of our friendly animals who die and return to us supplying an endless supply of food. We have grown to know them and they have proved there is life after death, by returning in many different forms. Sometimes they come back with wings and fly away. Father, there will always be life after death in one form or another, once we leave this husk of a body behind.’

 The Shaman was overwhelmed with this and kept the secret of his daughter’s location.

 So the story of life after death began as the slaughter continued and the creatures came back in many forms. Sometimes absolutely unrecognizable.

  Thus was born the myth that is fine to eat the meat of animals as they always come back to life after death, in another form.

 

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.