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


Who would you like to have to spend a day with and what do you hope you’d learn from the experience?


by John Yeo

Everyone calls him Jim, who really cares?
He stands with his hand out every day
Never says a word, just stands and stares 

On the same corner of the highway
I always put a coin in his hand as I pass,
He never smiles, just stares straight ahead.
I often wonder about his life in the past
One day I caught his eye and I said.

‘I know who you are, It was a mystery.
I think you are certainly out of place
I have weaved your life into a history
The fall must have hurt but it’s no disgrace.’
Jim looked shocked and angry.
For the first time ever, he actually spoke.
‘I have to beg for food as I’m hungry!
I was wealthy once but now I’m broke.’

The voice was nervous, and cultured
Betraying the roots of fine living.
I had guessed a good life was ruptured
Destroyed by cruel fate, unforgiving.
‘I have written a new turn for your story.’
I said, as I put a coin in his hand.
‘You will now be covered in glory
I am a writer you understand.’

Everyone called him Jim, who really cared?
He stood with his hand out every day
Never said a word, just stood and stared.
On the same corner of the same highway.
The original Jim was a sad mystery
An unhappy life confined to history.

The bad breaks in his life sadly failed 

A feeling of lost hopelessness prevailed.

Copyright © written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

I would in reality like to spend a day with a character like Jim to learn his story and how he came to find himself in this unfortunate position.



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..



by John Yeo

   The man walked into a village in India. The people were hungry and destitute, living from day-to-day, hand-to-mouth. The villagers attempted to grow a few vegetables to put food in the mouths of their children. The monsoon was late this year, everyone was desperate for a drink and the crops were drying.

 He was so shocked at the contrast between his comfortable lifestyle and this blatant poverty he couldn’t sleep at night. His thoughts swirled around the sheer magnitude of the unfairness of life. 

  Finally he resorted to asking for the opinions of a philosopher on the moral aspects of these shocking circumstances.

   This was the reply…..

‘They know nothing of your lifestyle, they grew up to endure their circumstances. They’re absolutely in total ignorance of  anything different. For your own and their sanity you must allow them to live.’

  ‘You mean, I should ignore their ignorance of a better life and do nothing?’

The man became a famous writer, drawing attention to this sad unfairness and many other anomalies in life.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved


Sorry, I’m Busy


Image © Copyright John and Margaret


by John Yeo

They were locked in the kitchen of a remote farmhouse in the hills. A farm in the deepest valley, where the crystal clear water ran down the hills into a lake.
The food supplies were finished and the pains were gnawing at his stomach. Jodie, his little sister, kept passing out in a dead faint, she would come round with tears in her soulful eyes and look appealingly at him. There was nothing he could do, since their Mum and Dad had been killed, no-one had been to the house. The bodies were still lying on the floor where the robbers had left them. He had tried to get a line out on the phone only to find the robbers had ripped the wires away and disconnected the telephone. Then, he discovered a mobile phone next to his parents bed, he hadn’t noticed it lying there before and he pressed a button that dialled his Uncles number. The ringing tone was answered by a recorded voice that kept repeating, “Sorry, I’m busy, right now. Please leave your message and I will get back to you later!” “Sorry, I’m busy, right now…………

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved