MAYBE IN THE DARK

SUNDAY 13th SEPTEMBER 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..

Today’s prompt ~ MAYBE IN THE DARK

MAYBE IN THE DARK

by John Yeo

    Nocturnal pleasure for Terry would be leaving his house and searching for night wildlife, such as shy Badgers on the prowl and urban Foxes. Many times he would track night-loving shy animals and follow them to their lairs. Barn Owls were his favourite bird to watch, closely followed by Hedgehogs, Bats and large colourful Moths. 

  One night Terry was in hiding, studying a family of Foxes, hunting and playing together in the neighbourhood gardens. Terry raised his camera to take some night photographs, when suddenly he was roughly grabbed by his collar.

    ‘Got you! You dirty rascally peeping Tom. We saw you coming with your camera, creeping along in the dark, I’ve a good mind to give you a good hiding, but my wife has called the police and they are on the way. You disgusting pervert, I bet it’s you who is responsible for stealing our underwear from the washing line!’

  Terry was shaken and scared, when he saw the huge man who was now holding him around the neck. The man had close-cropped hair and cruel looking eyes that were regarding him suspiciously.

   ‘No! You have got it wrong, I’m a naturalist studying nocturnal wildlife. Certainly not a pervert and I would never steal clothing or anything of that nature. I can prove it, I have my student ID in my wallet.’

 Terry  handed over his wallet. At that moment a police siren sounded in the distance, to Terry’s surprise the man immediately ran off. A neighbour had heard the altercation and called the police.

 When the police arrived, Terry explained what had happened. 

  The police swiftly caught up with the man, who turned out to be a notorious burglar and a peeping Tom. 

© Written by John Yeo

THE RED DRAGON INN

FRIDAY 14th AUGUST 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..

August writing prompts

THE RED DRAGON INN

by John Yeo

    Grandma Dragon owned the Red Dragon Inn, a busy dockside bar in Tiger Bay. It was said that she had inherited the bar through a family inheritance. Grandma was a tough cookie who didn’t stand any nonsense from any of the drunken sea salts who frequented her bar. In fact behind her back she was known to one and all by the shortened title of the Dragon. The lady in question had four sons who were mostly at sea, following dubious seafaring professions. There were six grandchildren constantly visiting Granny Dragon and keeping her busy.

    Widowed three times it was rumoured that her last husband had married her on the spur of the moment after a few drunken nights, then he’d absconded to sea and he’d never been seen again. The upshot of this short union was young Mary, who at sixteen years of age, was every bit as tough as her Mother. 

   Trouble broke out in the bar one evening when there was a vicious fight between two quiz teams who disputed the result of the bar quiz that featured every Wednesday evening.

   Apparently the Captain of a visiting team had sneaked a look at the answers. 

  Mayhem erupted, chairs were broken, heads were broken, the police were called and everyone except for the severely wounded disappeared. 

 Young Mary was the heroine of the evening as she bandaged up the wounded with towels until the ambulance arrived.  It was rumoured that most of the broken heads were the result of Grandma Dragon’s furious attempt to break up the fight using an old fashioned rolling pin from the kitchen.

© Written by John Yeo 

WRITNG PRACTICE ~ TORN JEANS

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Image from the Net

Writing Practice from a prompt by The Write Practice

http://thewritepractice.com

The Prompt

Let’s twist things up. You show up to Mrs. White’s Tudor style mansion to meet with your writing critique group, as you do every week. You expect to have a fun time talking about writing and getting feedback, not to find one member of the group murdered in the drawing room. First, describe how you find the murder victim. Then, after the police lock you in a room with the rest of the guests, write about your suspicions of who-dun it as you look around the room at your fellow writers. (Set your timer for thirty minutes.)

~~~~~~~

TORN JEANS

by John Yeo

   It’s Tuesday evening once again, My favourite evening of the week. We are off to take part in our evening of literary congeniality together, at Madeleine White’s mansion at the top of the hill, overlooking the village. Gilbert White is a wealthy industrialist who likes to play at being a Lord of the manor.

 The drive up the steep hill is very pretty, with the estate farm and fields spreading out into the distant horizon. The huge ornamental gates with a statue of a horse’s head on each gatepost, are always left open on Tuesday to welcome the writing group.

   Mrs White opens the door herself, in response to the chimes of the doorbell that resounds hollowly through the rooms of the mansion. The butler is off-duty on Tuesdays. We always receive a welcome from our lady hostess. There are just six of us in the group at present. Annie, Dorothy, Jill, Richard, Margaret and I.

  We usually meet in the impressive library, where there are many leather bound books from floor to ceiling, and many comfortable chairs and tables. Tonight is no exception and we get ourselves comfortable as we wait for Jill, who has gone to fix her torn jeans in the drawing room full length mirror.

   We wait a good ten minutes before we begin to work, we all leave one after another to get drinks in the drawing room, and visit the toilets situated there. Jill still hasn’t got back after another five minutes, and Mrs White leaves us to find her. Suddenly there is a frightening high scream from the drawing room. We all rush in there at once to find a shocked Mrs White and the prone figure of Jill on the floor of the drawing room. There is a pool of blood seeping over the carpet under her body. “She’s dead,” gasps Mrs White. somebody call the police.”

   Soon after the police arrive to investigate and to the horror of everyone, we are all locked up in the library by the police.

  Looking around at our fellow writers, I try to work out who is capable of the killing and why? Presumably we are locked up here because the police suspect one of us.

  I immediately rule out Margaret and myself. This leaves Annie, Dorothy, and Richard and of course Mrs White. I think my suspicions lie with Dorothy, she has always held a competitive grudge against Jill.

   Sometime later we are all interviewed by the investigating officer, who is still without a suspect, not a single clue has been revealed during the questioning.

   Then after a search of the pantry, a man with blood on his clothes, found hiding there, is led out handcuffed by the police. Mrs White is in a state of shock as she identifies her butler.

    The sensational twist in the tale  occurred a week later when Madeleine White was arrested for the murder of Jill Dyson who was blackmailing her, for an alleged affair she had with her father. Jill claimed Mrs White was her Mother who had abandoned her to marry Gilbert White.

   The butler was released after admitting smearing himself with blood to protect Mrs White.

   Gilbert White is moving away soon. Sadly our literary group is no more.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

 

BOILING POINT 

This is a poem I have written in response to a prompt on Writers Digest

http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2015-november-pad-chapbook-challenge-day-7

For today’s prompt, write a simmer down poem. This could be a poem about cooking, about calming down, about taking it easy. You get to simmer down in your own way. 

 

BOILING POINT 

by John Yeo 


The aggression was incredibly infectious 

As the demonstrators made their point.

With banners unfurled, chanting together,

Everyone united as followers of the cause.


A car was upended and exploded in flames,

Then a house brick shattered a window.

Shouting slogans, the demonstrators formed 

A wall of aggressive unwarranted outrage.


The authorities called in the police and the army

Anything to establish control.

Forming unbroken ranks, with protective shields 

They herded and faced the protestors down.


Amid the chaos of looting, fighting and arson,

The struggle erupted and spread.

A volcano of protest exploded and peaked.

To the boiling point of emotional stress.


The authorities began to take some control

The face-down began to turn things around.

The leaders of the rebels were under arrest

Leaving the last protestors to simmer down.


The chaotic outrage brought under control,

After much violence in the city streets 

The last of the ambulances left the scene.

The protest had finally run out of steam.


Copyright  © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.


~~~~~~~

DAILY PROMPT ~ 20th SEPTEMBER 2015 ~ EXHALE

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Image ©~ John and Margaret

DAILY PROMPT on Word Press ~ 20th  Sept 2015

Exhale
“Tell us about a time when everything seemed to be going wrong — and then, suddenly, you knew it would be alright.”

EXHALE SLOWLY 

(Pure fiction) 🙂

by John Yeo

The first thing that led me to believe that this was going to be one of those days, was when my absolutely reliable, dependable alarm call failed to sound I woke two hours late for my work, to discover that my mobile phone had stopped working, exactly one hour before the alarm was due to sound.
I immediately attempted to telephone my office to say I was running late but my landline was out of order and I still had no signal on my mobile phone. l switched on the television to catch the news, the newscaster was rambling on about all the troubles in the world, but there wasn’t anything about local communications failure. I switched it off in disgust.
I thought I may as well accept the fact that my morning was missing, why shouldn’t I indulge in a good brunch and start work in the afternoon. I put some toast under the grill and eggs were frying in the pan when there was a knock at the door. I rushed to answer the door to find my neighbour on the doorstep. “Have you a telephone that works?” She asked.
“No!” I replied. “I am going in to work this afternoon!”
Suddenly I smelt smoke and my smoke alarm went crazy, I realised what I had done and slammed the door in her face. I quickly went to the kitchen to find the oven was on fire so I raced to the sink and filled a bucket with water and tried to put the fire out. Too late, I realised that water and electricity do not mix, just as the lights fused with a crack and a mains fuse blew.
Then sirens sounded and bells were ringing as three fire engines raced up, summoned by my neighbour who had smelt smoke at the same moment I did when I slammed the door, and she had stopped a passing car-driver who had immediately raced to the fire station.
I held my breath as the electricity company arrived to restore the power, and the telephone company arrived at the same time to carry out repairs to the communications systems.
My telephone line restored, my mobile phone rang with a call from my Mother to say she had one of her headaches and would I mind bringing her some tablets after I finished work. I took another deep breath and attempted to quickly explain the situation, but I had to hang up on her as my landline sounded and there was a loud knocking at my door at the same time. I answered the door to find a policeman on the doorstep investigating a burglary at a local store where the thieves had disabled the local communication systems. The call on the landline was the telephone company apologising for the break in communications. Next I got a call from my mobile phone company apologising for the failure of the mobile signal, neither of the two incidents were related. I took another deep breath as I called my house insurance cover company and after much argument and clouding of the issue they promised to send an assessor to assess the damage. I finally got through to the office and my employer said this chain of circumstances was so far-fetched, it had to be true.
I then exhaled loudly as I realised everything would turn out OK!

It would be another day tomorrow. It is my birthday. Yes!!!!!

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

Picture it and Write ~ SATURDAY NIGHT IN SEA-TOWN

This is the latest Picture it and Write prompt from Ermilia’s blog

https://ermiliablog.wordpress.com/2015/07/12/picture-it-write-62/

Ermilia~alcohol-in-sunglasses-

Original image found on Pinterest

As usual the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia

SATURDAY NIGHT IN SEA-TOWN

by John Yeo

 A long hot summer had begun again.

The city council were holding an emergency meeting, to discuss
the increased levels of violence.
 “It’s always alcohol related!” Shouted Mrs Matse. “We should close all the beachside bars and clubs, to remove the threat of danger.”
The community was up in arms, the season had got underway again.

Jim Winchester was against the idea from the first. Prohib….What!”

 “Prohibition.” Repeated the mayor in his mayoral robes. “We should ban the sale and consumption of all alcoholic drinks along the beachfront until the season is over.

  “Not bloody likely! That would ruin the town, many traders would go broke, and Sea-Town would become a ghost town”
The voice was very strong, very relaxed, very sure of the points raised, and belonged to David Miller, a publican and a local club owner. David had served on the council for several years.
The meeting closed, with no firm decision, as always the council members were equally divided

 Billy and Bert pulled up on their bikes.
  “Looks like a good place to stop!” Smiled Billy, “Some nice looking pubs along the seafront here. We can enjoy ourselves and raise a little hell, for a while.”
Bert laughed. “Judging by all these Harley’s parked along here we will have plenty of company.”

 Nurse Joy had worked in the accident and emergency unit of the local hospital for many years. She dreaded the night-shift in this busy unit by the seaside. As with most seaside hospitals Saturday was usually the worst night shift of the week.

 Mary and her friend Juanita were very excited it was Saturday and they were heading into town for their first night out together ever. They were both first year students in the university of Sea-Town, they had adjoining rooms in the hall of residence.

 Billy and Bert met up with some other friendly bikers and started out on a glorious pub and club binge. They finished up in the “Tropicana” club, just as Mary and Juanita arrived. Little did any one of the the four separate people guess they were destined to meet up later under very different circumstances.

 The music was loud and the drinks flowed freely. Suddenly a scuffle broke out accompanied by loud voices shouting with much cursing as fighting began and the bouncers and doormen moved in to break it up. Then sirens belted out as the police and ambulances arrived at high speed.
Billy and Bert were both injured and rushed by ambulance to Sea-Town hospital.
 Juanita screamed as a flying bottle hit her in the face causing a very nasty cut. One of the police officers signalled an ambulance paramedic who helped her into an ambulance, accompanied by Mary.
  “You will have to go to hospital to be stitched up.” Remarked the ambulance driver.
 Both girls were horrified. “Will she be scarred in her face?” Asked Mary, shocked. “We were not involved, just out for an evenings fun.”
  “Sorry Miss, I don’t know the answer to your question! I will put her down as a bystander in my report. Collateral damage.”
  “What does that mean? Collateral damage? For heavens sake!” screamed Mary, now very upset and in shock.
  “That means she was an innocent caught up in an affray.” Replied the paramedic. “Sorry about that unfortunate choice of words.”

 The hospital accident and emergency department was a sea of people in various stages of treatment. Several incidents of drink-related violence had occurred in the town that night and the unit was very very busy. Nurse Joy and her colleagues were rushed off their feet, stitching up the injured and desperately keeping some order out of the chaos.
 Billy and Bert were interviewed by the police and released on bail, they waited for three hours to be treated for their injuries. Bert had a broken arm and a very badly bruised face and Billy had a six inch cut on his neck that would leave a nasty scar.
 Juanita fortunately had a superficial cut to her face and she was badly bruised. Juanita would be the owner of a nasty black eye on her return to college. She vowed never to go to the Tropicana club again. Ever!

 Nurse Joy was very tired at the end of her shift.
“Thank goodness I’m off-duty next Saturday. I will sit on the beach in the sun, protecting these tired eyes, that have seen so much, behind dark glasses.” 

Ermilia~alcohol-in-sunglasses-

the image is supplied and credited by Ermilia

Copyright (c) Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

Picture and Write badge

WHEN ON-LINE AND OFF-LINE REALITY MERGE

FLASH FICTION ~ INTERNET CAFE ~ 10TH JULY 2015

Another challenge from https://therattlingbones.wordpress.com/
the life and works of Lori Carlson
Today’s prompt is to write a scene set in an internet cafe. You decide the people involved, the situation and the outcome.

image

Image © John and Margaret

WHEN ON-LINE AND OFF-LINE REALITY MERGE

by John Yeo

 The day was hot but Jed needed to get on-line fast, he needed to establish an on-line footprint. The man, a tramp, or hobo, lay dying in a pool of thick red blood. This was the lull before sirens and the usual hubbub of noise followed one of his exterminations.
   “Coffee please, with cream and sugar.” Ordered Jed from the faceless man behind the counter.
  “OK! That will be one hundred and fifteen pounds, please.”
   “How the heck do you work that out?” He demanded.
 “One hundred for the footprint and fifteen pounds for your coffee.”
Jed peeled the money off from a wad of notes in his pocket. He had managed to hold on to some of the money he had earned from his last excursion into the back streets.
This was getting harder and harder to keep up the masquerade for the required time.
A button was pressed hard, and the game began again. The sirens exploded on to the naked eardrums as his pursuers began to get closer. He secreted himself in the farthest corner from the entrance and began to surf and keep in control.
 Another player entered the fray, needing the security of four walls to keep up the illusion of privacy.
A young woman with smiles and femininity had arrived. He nodded at her as she approached the coffee counter.
  “Skinny Latte heavy on the molasses?”
 “Are you sure? Skinny coffee and molasses is an unusual request!” asked the nondescript man serving behind the coffee bar.
   “Yes please!” She responded with a smile. “I’m an unusual person, I need to give myself the illusion of keeping slim together with the reality of keeping sweet”
 “That will be one hundred and thirty pounds, please.”
   “How much? I am sorry I am five pounds short of your extortionate demands. How on earth did you work that price out?”
 “With our hourly increases for inflation that is one hundred pounds for your online footprint together with your speciality coffee.”
Jed came to her rescue and peeled off another five pounds from his wad.
  “Hi! Thanks, I’m Samira, pleased to meet you. I can’t stop, I have a world of on-line things to get on with.”
  “It’s OK!” Jed replied, “I am a player on the run from the twists and turns of an on-line game.”
They both were soon lost in the ether of the world within the outside world that was reality.
Then another person shattered the concentrated silence by throwing a bag full of money on the counter.
  “A milky coffee quickly please. I must get on-line fast. I have had a tip that will not wait and you are my only chance to effect an on-line deal, I will save myself thousands of pounds.”
 “Peace my friend, How much is there in your bag?”
  “More than enough!” Shouted the burly man in a suit. “Take what you need, get on with your job and pour my coffee.”
 “Sugar?”
  “No thanks! I’m sweet enough!” Joked the ignorant man in a hurry. ” I want to use the machine in the corner farthest away from the door and the risk of interruption.”
 Jed’s game was coming to an end and the dying hobo had magically come back to life. Jed had lost interest now and Samira had done her on-line shopping.
 Jed smiled, “Would you like another special coffee Samira? I am done with my on-line gaming and I need the warmth of reality.”
  Samira blushed and nodded “Yes please, I am also through here shall we share an on-line footprint or shall we get out of here into the reality of the harsh-edged world outside?”
There was a crash as the door was thrown open and suddenly the internet cafe was full of uniformed police. They arrested the burly man in the suit for armed robbery and confiscated his bag of money, retrieved from the man behind the coffee bar.

“What about my bill?” He demanded.
 “Send him a bill” replied a police officer.
Samira and Jed left the internet cafe together arm in arm.

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

(766 Words)

THE RAVE

Pen n tonic Creative Expressions

Each week on Tuesday Pen’n’Tonic will post  a word, a phrase, a picture, or an idea that will constitute a prompt from which to submit a poem, a flash fiction piece (not longer than 250 words), an original photograph, an original artwork, or a combination of these things that you think applies to the week’s theme.

This week, as a learning exercise to help understand point of view, I challenge you to write the same story from two perspectives. Choose two main characters, one settings, and one mini plot. Write two stories, one for each character.

https://penntonic.wordpress.com/2015/02/24/creative-expressions-11-point-of-view/

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THE RAVE

by John Yeo

 We live on the borders of a modern dairy farm. About once every three months or so an illegal rave party would take place in one of the fields. The farmer was unable to control the influx of thousands of fans and partygoers. The police were powerless, in the face of such large numbers of people, attracted by news on social media.

FATHER

 Father was always hopping mad.

“Why don’t they send in the army and round them all up as an example to other law-breakers! The loud volume damages peoples hearing, they will all suffer in later life. The rubbish they leave behind the next day is never properly cleaned up. These raves are illegal, yet the authorities are unable to uphold the law.

SCOT

 Thirteen year old Scot the farmers son, had a different view, he was excitedly communicating with his i-phone to his friends from school describing the music and the excitement of the rave-up.

“The music is fantastic and all these really cool ravers with their friends camp out for the whole weekend. The beat never stops, I can hear it free at home! I look over at the field where thousands of young people are dancing, drinking and enjoying themselves. I wish I was a few years older, I would be with them enjoying myself

.

RAVE PARTY

Image from the net

Copyright ©  Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

AN EVEN MATCH

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers-

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers is a new weekly fiction writing challenge. The goal is to write a story between 100-150 words (give or take 25 words) based on the provided photo.

TENNIS COURT

Image © Dawn M Miller

AN EVEN MATCH

by John Yeo

“Winner takes all”, said Wide Willy, leader of the local gang. Daring Dick leader of a rival gang smiled with disbelief.
“You will concede everything if we win, including Diana the darling of the town”
Willy nodded, “If Diana agrees I will concede all my love for her as well as our business assets, but if you lose we take control of your patch entirely.”
The tennis court behind the flats was rarely used, until Doreen and Len decided 6 year old James would be brought up, living and breathing tennis. Now 18, James’s talent was about to be revealed to the world. They were approached by Dick, who had been informed of James’s unbeatable prowess. Willy was confident as his player was county champion.
The match was fiercely contested, after 4 sets the players were even at 6 games all. Suddenly a helicopter landed and surrounded by police, all members of the two gangs were arrested on drugs charges.
18 year old tennis prodigy James ran away with Diana. All bets were off!

(174 words)

Copyright © written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

This is in response to a challenge hosted by Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. If you would like to participate in this challenge or need more information, please click the following link:

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com

JUNE 25, 2014 Writing 101, Day Eighteen: Hone Your Point of View

Craft a story from the perspective of a twelve-year-old observing it all. For your twist, focus on specific character qualities, drawing from elements we’ve worked on in this course, like voice and dialogue.

Today’s prompt: write this story in first person, told by the twelve-year-old sitting on the stoop across the street.

The neighbourhood has seen better days, but Mrs. Pauley has lived there since before anyone can remember. She raised a family of six boys, who’ve all grown up and moved away. Since Mr. Pauley died three months ago, she’d had no income. She’s fallen behind in the rent. The landlord, accompanied by the police, have come to evict Mrs. Pauley from the house she’s lived in for forty years.

GROWING UP

Written by John Yeo

 I have been chucked out of the house by me Mum and Dad, they reckon I have been very naughty. Dad clipped me around the ear, all because I was hungry and scoffed that piece of chicken from the fridge. I s’pose, I can only sit here on the step. My friends William and Tommy are indoors now, having supper in the warm. Some of the older kids from the block went past in an old banger of a car, laughing loudly and shouting. I know they are the ones who do the drawings and words all over the walls in the street. My Dad says they should be locked up.

 Wow! The police have turned up across the road, with another man in a big flash car. They keep on knocking on No.39, Mrs Pauley’s door, there is no reply, she’s not answering. The man crosses the road and talks to me. “Hallo youngster, do you know Mrs Pauley? Is she at home?     “Yes Mister, I know her but I have not seen her”. I watch him walk back to join the police who are checking around the back of the house.

 My Mum has heard me talking to someone, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing Mum, I’m being good, just watching the police at Mrs Pauley’s house”.

“What?”

Mum rushes across the road to talk to the man with the big flash car.

“Now don’t you get involved, Mrs Yates,” The man shouts. “We have come to see Mrs, Pauley, she has paid no rent for three months and I need to re-let the property”

My Mum shouted back at this man, calling him an unfeeling leech, only interested in making a profit.

The police calm things down and say they will have to break the door down.

A few minutes later, I see a flashing blue light as an ambulance arrives. They bring poor old Mrs Pauley out on a stretcher, she is very sick. My Mum is telling Dad, they don’t think she will survive the journey to hospital.

We all go indoors and I overhear them talking about Mrs Pauley.

“It’s a shame, she has six sons, someone should have come to see her and sort her bills out. They should have looked after her”

 

Copyright © ~Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved

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