Bewilder-Wood

FLASH FICTION
Sunday Photo Prompt 18/02/2019

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

A Santa Claus

Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding

Bewilder-Wood

by John Yeo

  The children were on holiday and their parents had decided to treat them to a visit to the magical Bewilder-Wood. These woods were on the edge of Fantasy Forest, it was rumoured there were imps and fairies hiding away here.
Pip, Paula, and little Chloe were playing, hide and seek among the trees. Chloe was hiding and the twins, Pip and Paula were hunting for her.
Soon, Paula became concerned.

   ‘Chloe! Where are you? We have to find Mummy and Daddy.’

Then they saw Chloe, chatting away to a stranger with long white hair and a long white beard

   ‘Hello! I’m Mr. Claus, most people call me Santa.’ exclaimed the man.

   ‘You’re not Santa Claus. You’re too scruffy.’ Pip said giggling. Paula then took up this infectious giggle and they were soon shaking with laughter.

  The stranger said, kindly, ‘I’m off duty. Ho! Ho! Ho!’

Just then a tiny green elf hopped on the man’s shoulders and whispered and they both disappeared instantly.
At that exact moment, the children’s parents arrived.

    ‘Daddy, Mummy, Santa Claus was here and he was speaking to us.’ Chloe said excitedly.
Both parents shook their heads and laughed loudly.

  The twins chorused. ‘He disappeared with an elf.’

 

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

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THE MESSAGE

FLASH FICTION
Sunday Photo Prompt 04/02/2019

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

Photo Credit Subramanya Bhat

THE MESSAGE

by John Yeo

  I took my usual seat on the bus and folded the seat in front of me back to allow me to stretch out my osteoarthritic-riddled legs in comfort.  It was then an interesting character arrived, in the shape of a lady in her mid-forties. This lady immediately pulled the seat in front of me back down, took a seat and leaned on the side of my seat. I was able to keep my legs stretched out as she adjusted her position around them. It was then I began to take some notice of her. She had long jet black hair that was obviously helped with black dye. Her nose was large, not unattractively large, set in a face with sharp brown eyes and little make-up applied. She was dramatically dressed, totally in black, except for her grey shoes. I noticed she had her fingernails painted a bright red, and she wore a thin gold bracelet. She wrote something on a piece of paper and promptly began to fold the paper into an origami shape. As she was leaving the bus she handed me the piece of paper and left. I opened the paper to reveal the scribbled words, DON’T STARE!

(200 WORDS)

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

This story was written for Sunday Photo Fiction hosted by Susan Spaulding.

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THE CURE (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. The Baths, British Virgin Islands

thebaths-bva 

THE CURE

by John Yeo

  David White had been battling with a severe eczema skin condition for most of his life. Davids’ face had always been a swollen mass of skin that resembled the scales on the skin of a crocodile. Life had become so hard at school that his parents had withdrawn him and engaged a series of private tutors to complete his education. The family Doctors had given up trying to eradicate his condition as there is no known cure for atopic eczema.
David had tried everything, from expensive creams and lotions to exotic plant remedies and tablets. David began experimenting with alternate cures. This was when he came into contact with one
Doctor Arpachshad, a philosopher with a reputation for effecting miracle cures with some unfamiliar potions and remedies. Dr. Arpachshad was a tall well spoken American man who wore a monocle, and when he smiled he revealed a mouthful of gold teeth.
  One fateful day Dr. Arpachshad had excitedly called David to attend his clinic in Brighton.
   ‘I have good news, I have found a lotion that is guaranteed to clear up your condition. But it’s extremely expensive and involves a trip to the British Virgin Islands in the Caribbean. I have an extraordinary lotion that’s made out of the skin of a Lioness in 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.’
  David’s first reaction was one of delighted astonishment. ‘How much will it cost?’
  The velvety voiced Doctor smiled as he quickly replied, ‘Just £20,000 pounds. If you can raise the sum in cash, or almost double that if you pay by another method. Cash is required to pay the hunters in advance.’
  David was shocked and sadly replied, ‘That sort of money is out of the question. I will try to borrow it from my parents but I don’t hold out much hope.’
  Obviously, 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 totally cured.

(362 WORDS)

 

 

 

 

FIDO

 

FLASH FICTION
Sunday Photo Prompt 04/02/2019

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

Photo Credit: C.E. Ayr 

FIDO

by John Yeo

  The ice had been slowly melting for years. Many corpses of extinct creatures had been discovered, all frozen solid in death over the centuries.

  Contrary to the hopes of some of the Scientific Community; none of these creatures so far had come back to life.
Professor Chan headed a team exploring these Arctic Ice-fields and Glaciers with Mary Lee, his clever assistant.
Then the egg was discovered. A huge egg, muddy brown in colour, absolutely new to Science.
When Mary and the team saw the egg appear as the ice slowly melted, they were quick to retrieve it and deposit it in their icehouse for protection.
After a few days, Mary noticed a slight trembling inside the egg.

      ‘Professor! It’s coming to life, it must be the change of temperature.’
The normally reserved Professor became excited.

    ‘This is sensational Mary! We must keep this quiet and allow Nature to take its course.’

  ‘Certainly Professor!’
 Although high-security measures were in place, news leaked out. When the egg finally cracked a large crowd had gathered.
A gasp of shock and horror rippled around when this fearsome brute appeared.
Laughter ensued when the monster rolled over, smiled and wagged his tail.

(200 WORDS)
© John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

This story was written for Sunday Photo Fiction hosted by Susan Spaulding.

A PICTORIAL PRESENTATION

Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding

A PICTORIAL PRESENTATION

by John Yeo

Expectations were high throughout the school. The esteemed artist was arriving at precisely 14.00 hours to judge the pupils work. A prize was on offer.

The headmistress. Miss Elaine Smithers, and Luigi Pescasso had both attended art college in London. Elaine had encouraged her brightest, creative pupils to do their best to produce some pictures along the same lines as the great Luigi.

Tommy Dawkins was favourite to win and his painting of a donkey took pride of place among the exhibits. Entitled, ‘The Ass,’ it was hung on the wall alongside, Mary Green’s, ‘Dog with a Bone,’ And Elaine William’s, ‘Girl leading a Pig’. There was an interesting painting of a headless horse, painted by Mary Tomkins. The classroom wall was covered with a variety of paintings The moment arrived and there was a hush as the great man walked along the line of pictures. He took a deep breath then said.

‘I find there are four paintings equally good and I award four first prizes. ‘The Girl leading a Pig to the Dog with a Bone, leads to the Backside of a Horse that finally ends up as an Ass.’ Well done you four talented young people.’

© John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

(199 WORDS)

This story was written for Sunday Photo Fiction hosted by Susan Spaulding.

The Pipers legacy

This is a resurrected and revised piece of work I wrote some years ago. I am submitting it now for publication in our church magazine in answer to the theme of music.

Piper

Image courtesy of pixabay.com

The Piper’s Legacy

by John Yeo

 The two brothers, Donny and Flip were out playing in the fields, wandering around at the bottom of Piper’s Hill. This steep local hill was suffused with local legend and magical tales were told about many mysterious occurrences throughout the ages. The two brothers were as alike as chalk and cheese as the old saying goes. Donny was tall and thin with a shock of black hair and piercing blue eyes; he was the oldest of the two by eighteen months.

Flip was shorter, much to his chagrin, with brown straight hair and brown eyes to match. A daredevil, always game for anything.

The one thing the brothers had in common was their quick wits and friendly demeanor.

 Flip was acting as a hunter and racing along ahead of Donny.

  ‘Slow down Flip, we don’t want to lose track of each other, it’s getting late and we don’t want to get lost.’ shouted Donny.

  ‘It’s OK, I know exactly where we are. That’s old man Grieves farm over there.’ replied Flip. A startled Blackbird flew up as he continued to run, making the familiar squawking sound that is the Blackbirds cry of alarm.

 Then he suddenly shouted, ‘Hey Donny, come quick.’

 Donny pushed his way through some bushes at the bottom of the hill and suddenly saw Flip standing in front of the strangest wizened wrinkled old man he had ever seen. This man was wrapped up in an incredible multi-green coat, covered with streaks of brown that looked suspiciously like mud. The old man had a twinkle in his green eyes that were almost dazzling when he looked directly at Flip and Donny.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, What do I see here? Two young escapees from humdrum, looking for adventure? Sit on this handy log here and I will tell you a story.’

Donny sat down straight away and signaled to Flip to join him. Both of the boys were captivated by this strange old man with his merry grin.

The old man picked up an intricately carved wooden tube that was lying at his feet and waved it in front of the boys.

  ‘You see this? This is an ancient tube, in the right hands, it makes the sweetest sounds you have ever heard. I inherited this from its mysterious owner many years ago. When I was your age, our town was plagued with vermin. The town council hired the man who owned this magical tube to get rid of them. A price was agreed and the fun began.’

 The man then suddenly picked up the tube, put it to his mouth and blew once. Soon every tree and bush in the vicinity was covered with hundreds of birds of all shapes, sizes, and varieties.’

The strange old man continued.

  ‘This musical man dressed in a strange multi-coloured costume was leading the thousands of assorted troublesome vermin from the town. My Mother and Father watched with glee, as the Piper worked his magic. Just as he had predicted, his music was hypnotic to the ears of the vermin and his assignment to clear the town was an instant success. I was 7 years old at the time, and the sight of these vermin leaving the town produced loud cheers and much happiness from the townspeople.’

The old man continued, laughing loudly.  ‘What do you think happened next?’

 Both boys were dumbstruck and simply shrugged their shoulders.

   Flip piped up and said, ‘Can I have a blow on that whistle?’

Donny kicked him in the shins and said,

 ‘Shut up Flip! Please carry on with the story.’

The old man smiled. ‘Well, the mayor decided not to pay the agreed fee and tried to cheat the piper.

The piper was angry at this and blew a strange tune on his whistle. A tune that got into the ears of every child in the town. I remember beginning to dance along with hundreds of my friends. The urge to dance was overwhelming. We followed the piper, dancing to the merriest tune you have ever heard. We danced to this very hill and suddenly two huge cave doors appeared and we all danced inside, to find a Wonderland. A place where dreams come true in the blink of an eye.’

The boys were overwhelmed with curiosity.

  ‘Why have you come back?’ Asked Donny.

 Then Flip interjected. ‘Can we come with you to see this place?’

With a shake of his head and a wave of his hand, the ancient traveler suddenly disappeared in a puff of smoke.

 Then Flip bent down and picked something up, something long, tubular, intricately carved, with holes in. ‘Look, Donny, he’s left the pipe behind.’

 Donny grabbed the pipe and put it to his lips but nothing happened. Flip tried to get a sound from the flute without success.

Both boys then returned home with their treasure. They tried many times over the years to get a sound from this pipe, without any success.

 The boys didn’t let on to anyone about their magical meeting with the little old man on Pipers Hill.

However magic certainly came from the meeting as Donny became a talented well paid Flautist and Flip made a name for himself by playing the Saxophone in a famous orchestra.

The brothers later became renowned as a duo that rocked the jazz world.

Written by John Yeo, (With apologies to ‘The Pied Piper of Hamelin.’)

© ~ All rights reserved.

 

THE MORNING AFTER…….

31 st March 2018 A Reedsy Prompt

“He woke up and all seemed normal. Little did he know that before he’d even had a chance to get out of bed, he would become the subject of a prank.”

~~~

First of April

THE MORNING AFTER THE NIGHT BEFORE

by John Yeo

   March had stormed through to a windswept close with frost and snow combined. They say a whole generation of unwanted bugs and vermin die as a result of a harsh frost. The parents are unable to forage for food and the young die off. This is Nature’s way of culling the overpopulation and striking a balance. Extreme but effective, clearly a supreme example of survival of the fittest in action. Scooter Danes was a smallholder and a budding pig farmer, he sighed as he did the rounds of his smallholding, feeding and checking on the animals. Scooter was a hard worker, a broad-shouldered man of medium height, whose most distinguishing feature was his head, which had a curious shape with a protruding forehead that was absolutely devoid of hair. Scooter worked tirelessly to make ends meet. He was well known in the community for his sense of humour and his laid back style of leaving the unimportant things to chance.
Scooter sighed again and thought, ‘At least I can feed the dead rats and other vermin to the flocks of local scavenging crows. The vermin are so hungry at the moment they make no attempt to conceal their whereabouts.’ Scooter loosed off a couple of blasts from his trusty shotgun and picked off a few of the blighters who were busily engaged in making a meal of his overwinter greens.
  Violet, his young wife appeared at the cottage door and called to him, ‘Come inside Scoot, your meal is on the table, it’ll get cold if you don’t come in soon.’
       ‘Coming Vi! I’m starving hungry, this weather really does give me an appetite.’
Violet straightened her pink striped apron and put her hands on her extremely generous hips. She was a comely woman in every sense of the word, a typical farmer’s wife who never stopped working from dawn to dusk. Flicking a few strands of her loose greying blonde hair from her eyes, she grinned as she said. ‘ Charles from Willow tree farm telephoned to ask if you would be going for your usual pint in the Crown tonight.’

      ‘Of course, I will my darling, ‘ replied Scooter smiling broadly, ‘I never miss my usual pint of draught ale with the lads.’

    ‘That’s what I told him, now eat the farmhouse stew, it will warm you up before you go out.’

  Later that evening, Scooter joined his pals Chas, Mick, Pete and Phil in the local. They had all grown up together in the area and they were firm friends.
Chas was his nearest neighbour, who lived on the next small holding to his, a friendly man who always had a good word to say about everyone else. Unlike Scooter, who had his own way with words when he put a slant on reality to the detriment of anyone who displeased him.
  Mick and Phil were firm friends who worked for the same building firm together and shared a lot of common interests. Pete was the joker in the pack, a short man with a huge personality. A local builder, he had built a thriving business from scratch and often kept Mick and Phil in work.
    Scooter was warmly welcomed by everyone, especially Pete who was secretively grinning as he chatted with everyone.
  Scooter immediately took his position in front of a brightly illuminated one-armed-bandit and began feeding £1.00 coins in. Ever since he had hit the jackpot some months ago he was hooked, chasing money he had been piling into these machines ever since.
Pete and Mick sidled up alongside him and Pete grinning broadly handed him an envelope.
     ‘We’ve had a bit of luck Scooter, our syndicate has won a nice sum on the Lottery. This is a copy of the letter confirming the win. The cheque hasn’t been cleared yet but I intend to post cheques for the winners through everyone’s letterboxes first thing in the morning.’

    ‘The drinks are on me!’ Exclaimed Scooter excitedly, but he was a little disappointed when the rest of his pals declined. Except for Pete who accepted a double scotch and Scooter joined him in a toast.

   The evening passed swiftly and Scooter wended his way back to his cottage and was soon fast asleep.

   The next day he was up with the lark. To his delight, there was an envelope lying on the doormat. Without opening it he rushed into the lounge and hugged Violet. ‘Our lucks changed Vi! This envelope contains the answer to all our worries’.

  Violet opened the envelope to find two words boldly emblazoned across a dummy cheque. APRIL FOOL.
Scooter then realized the horrible truth, it was April 1st and he had been the victim of a cruel prank.

 

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved