Category Archives: Whimsical

Sunday Photo Fiction – Sept 16 2018

923B10B2-85A0-4971-8563-C9010A6C42EF“Navigator’s yeoman to the bridge at the double,” the pipe was loud and clear and I could see the panic on Able Seaman Ralph’s face as as he raced across the mess to the forward ladder.

“Looks like old Ralph is in for a hard time,” I thought.

I decided to follow as it could be something everyone could have a laugh about later so started to make my way up to the bridge.

The navigator was pointing the finger at the chart on the table at the back of the bridge and saying to Ralph, “Now are you sure you haven’t missed an alteration to the chart, do you how serious that could be? ”

”No Sir, I heard the siren but thought nothing of it.”

”Well have a bloody look up ahead, is that or is it not a starboard buoy when all the rest are port?”

”Navvie, you’d better have a look at this,” the Officer of the Watch, laughing, interjected.

”What is it now, “ irritation in the Navigator’s voice apparent.

”Well, that so-called buoy is just a couple of idiot holidaymakers with a bright green umbrella , we’ll radio the harbourmaster to go and pick them up.

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Filed under Flash fiction, Self compositions, Whimsical

Colleen’s Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 101, “Plan & Finish,”

Start with an outline

then expand your ideas

end with a flourish

the layman’s guide  to writing

just another fantasy

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Filed under Advice and tips for writers, As you read it, Self compositions, Tanka, Whimsical

Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge #211 Brain & Cleanse

ronovan-writes-haiku-poertry-challenge-image-20161

Self-trepanning

is a dangerous way  to

cleanse a cluttered brain

 

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Filed under Advice and tips for writers, Haiku, Self compositions, Whimsical

“Flash Fiction 99 word Challenge for the Carrot Ranch Literary Community

 

fence

“Wow, look at that Dad,” The dad in question was trying hard not to show his own excitement.

They were standing high on the cliffs watching waves crashing into the beach below. Not only waves but numerous figures standing on multi-coloured surfboards rushing in with each breaker.

“Dad, “ his son pleaded, “can we get a surfboard?”

“Sorry Davey but you know that they are expensive and how often could you use it?”

“Awww,” the disappointment showed.

The afternoon was spoilt.

Next morning Davey went out before breakfast. Worried, his father went to find him. Then he saw the fence.

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Sue Vincent’s weekly #Writephoto beach frolics

sea-mist1

Listen to the torpid, turquoise waters,
langorously lapping at the sun scorched sands.
Imagine the tall, curving, coco-palm trees
casting welcome shadow over gay steel-bands
Parasols swirling, laughing ladies, clutch their
high, iced glasses in painted, long-nailed hands.
Gaze upon the lithe, lissome half naked bodies
in their bold, bright costumes, showing golden tans.
When the bright golden sun’s rays turn to crimson
driftwood is gathered and barbecues are manned.
As the fading light becomes tropical evening
everyone’s dreams and pleasures on demand.
Tuned dustbin lids polished, glowing in the fires
while stamping  and dancing capture the rhythm of the land

 

 

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Filed under Otherworldly, Self compositions, Temperatures rising, Whimsical

Sue Vincent’s weekly #Writephoto

shadow-wings (1)

Upon a branch a squirrel sat,
when far below he spied a cat
aha he said you can’t catch me
i know you cannot fly you see
but the foolish squirrel didn’t know
while teasing pussy far below,
an owl was hovering overhead,
heard the taunting words he said.
Thinking here’s a tasty snack
he swooped and gripped the squirrel’s back
with beating wings and talons full

that’s the last we’ll see of poor squirrel,

 

 

 

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Filed under nature inspired, Self compositions, Whimsical

Twittering Tales #89 – 19 June 2018

new-twittering-logoegg-3471439_1280You’ve been doing it again haven’t you?

Who me,  I  don’t know what you mean.

Breaking into those eggs, don’t deny it, your whiskers are all yellow and sticky, yeuk!

Well, you have to get in when  they’re still fresh or they’re all chewy. 236 characters

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Filed under Flash fiction, nature inspired, Whimsical

Three Line Tales, Week 124, A mind of their own.

tltweek124

“Look Shiloh, I think you’ve gone a little over the top here.”

“I just thought  I should express my independent thought  and free will for this exercise,”

“Yes, I see your point but the instructions for the project clearly said daub the frame with a  red cross, no abstract,  no embellishments so I think you’d better clean it up,

it’s being examined tonight.”

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Filed under As you read it, No offence intended, Self compositions, Whimsical

Sunday Photo Fiction

faithful

It was no good, I couldn’t rest with that strange looking animal sitting next to my bed. I pushed the lid aside and started to crawl out from under the marble. My visitor showed no sense of alarm, just sat there with his tongue protruding and a silly grin on his face. Shaking the dirt and dust of decades from my shroud I sat beside him and gently patted his head.

“I think you’re a bit late if you’ve come to rescue me. And aren’t you supposed to be a Saint Bernard or something bigger like that. What happened, did you shrink after getting wet in the snow? Your brandy bottle seems to have changed, a little handbag is it nowadays? I suppose that’s down to advances in medical science. After my time in there I think I’ve seen the light so the lantern is a waste as well. Anyway feller, I think it’s time for you to go home, no way are you going  to save my life. Should have come around a long  time ago for that but Thanks anyway.”

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Thursday photo prompt: Avenue #writephoto

avenue

It was the time of Sennei again. We stand in our lines,  along the avenue known as the windwhistle corridor, males to the left, females to the right.

We all lean forward holding our magnificent freshly green head-dresses steady. Having practised our lines for many days we bow low and whisper our self-composed love sonnets in the allocated ear of our chosen intended.

Each of us males has a rival with whom we stand shoulder to shoulder facing a selected female, hoping that the young future brides would choose us. If she cannot make a decision between the two beaus chosen for her then duels will have to take place. The prize, a bride with whom to mate and procreate.

For now, while the breeze is gentle the only sound that the people walking between us would hear is the familiar, soft rustling  of the leaves. All oblivious to the seriousness of the ritual taking place above their heads.

If a duel becomes necessary then the pair have to wait until there is a gale. Each tree is lashed against his opponent till one gives way. Some of these duels become quite violent with the occasional loss of limbs, even death by uprooting but this is rare as it would not gain anything for the species only the victor.

Most of the time the females are able to choose the strongest of the pair and accept the gentle brushing of their pistils with our anthers containing the fertilising pollen.

Now the wind plays another important role as the seeds may be carried far away from the avenue to land in another inviting area of ground, take root  and at the mercy of the grazing deer or rabbits attempt to start a new plantation of trees. In time they will have their own Sennei in their own avenues.

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Filed under As you read it, Flash fiction, nature inspired, Self compositions, Whimsical