The Art of Boxing – Friday Fictioneers 2 March 2018

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

The Art of Boxing

“I’ll box your ears sure as look at you Brandon Harley! You wait and see!” hollered Bobby as he strode purposefully in the direction of Bing’s Boxing Academy.

“Hello and welcome.”

“Anyone wishing to share their reasons for Bing here?”

Bobby perked up,“ I want to be able to box the ears of an ‘*******!’”

“Ah, well, we’re certainly going to learn the art of boxing but, more importantly we are going to learn the art of not needing to use it in the first place.”

Bobby’s face was a picture, a concoction of dumbfoundedness and rage.

“Sir? “he whimpered.

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The Dead Rose Dilemma – Friday Fictioneers 23 February 2018

PHOTO PROMPT © Marie Gail Stratford

The Dead Rose Dilemma

Another week, another image.

This time a dead rose?

Sometimes I cringe.

“What the hell can I write about that?“

She drew a blank.

OK… so I know now… just leave it alone… eventually I’ll be inspired…

…but only if I really leave it alone! It doesn’t work if I ‘pretend’! She laughed at herself,

remembering the times she’d done this. Well I’m human.

They say meditate on a flower…

“I wonder what happens when I meditate on a dead flower?….”

“…Oh my goodness… it’s not dead! Such Beauty! Such Joy!”

She basked in appreciate of another challenging opportunity.

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Snow Story – Friday Fictioneers 16 February 2018

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Snow Story

“Shriek! Squeal!! Look! Mum!!”

“It’s snowed!” Sadie’s excited high pitched voice was soaked up and dampened by the effect of the snow as she danced on the spot under the porch.

“I want to be the first to make footprints!” she squealed, dashing back indoors to grab her wellies.

It rarely snowed where she lived and she’d prayed for weeks on end for a snowfall before winter disappeared again.

Unbeknownst to her, Garby loved snow too and was equally intent on investigating the white stuff.

As she opened the door, Garby came charging out, his paws christening the snow!


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The Vessel and The Water – Friday Fictioneers 10 February 2018



The Vessel and The Water

“What can I do?! She won’t listen!”

“Ok, imagine … calm day, still water…

…along comes a vessel, moving through the water…

…creating ripples, sometimes waves.

Do you fight to flatten the waves, get rid of them?”

“Of course not! I’m going to move to calmer water!”

“So why not do the same with Issie?”

“It’s not that simple!”

“But it is… we’re all like both the vessel and the water…

…wherever we go we create waves, meeting others creating their waves.

If the turbulence is too much…

…go sail in a direction that feels happier.

That simple, eh?!”


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Essence of Life – Friday Fictioneers 2 February 2018

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Essence of Life

It’s autumn, the smell of wood smoke permeates the air. Oh how I love this time of year.

The tail end of the earth’s energy feels like a rush, a speeding up. The urgency to prepare for winter courses through my veins.

Excitement is building.

We have bottled fruit, tinctured herbs, gathered nuts, frozen vegetables and buried the tubers, away from harsh frosts and hungry foragers.

Now the last of the chores is almost complete.

Chop wood.

This year we have had to say goodbye to our ancient apple tree.

I shall cherish your essence as you keep me warm.

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The Web of Life – Friday Fictioneers 12 January 2018
PHOTO PROMPT © Victor and Sarah Potter

The web of Life

“Wow, spy that web. Beautiful.”

    “We’re all connected you know…”
    “…It’s impossible for us not to be…”
    “…We just think we’re not connected.”

“What makes you think that?”

    “I sense it.”

“Right? That’s a great help!”

    “Just because we don’t visually see anything in the space between objects doesn’t mean it’s empty.”
    “Take wi-fi for instance, you cannot see the waves transmitting, but you know they exist because your portable devices wouldn’t work without them.”
    “Well, we’re the same. Portable antennae, each emitting our own frequencies.

“Creating our web, each of us the centre of our own world?”

    “Yes, exactly.”

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Dream Dreamer – Friday Fictioneers 5 January 2018

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

Dream Dreamer

Drifting back to consciousness, opening her eyes,
fear shot through her being.
Where the hell am I?
Must be dreaming.
Blinking rapidly to erase the vision, she re-opened her eyes…
…No! Still the same!
Reaching out with trepidation, she touched the white net-like objects,
her hand slipping right through them.
“Weird” she whimpered.
Feels familiar… yet foreign.
Always asking why! How about I just sit here, watch a while.
Somehow she felt connected to the fibres.
This is too Star Trek for comfort.
Neurons! They’re my neuron pathways!
“Mum!” “Wake up!”
Startled, opening her eyes.
“Must’ve been lucid dreaming.”

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Wheel Legacy – Friday Fictioneers 29 December 2017


Wheel Legacy

“Wheels! What d’ya think?”
“Hmmm? Different.”
“It’s that alright!”
“He left this for me…
…with a note – he’d a great sense of humour.”

For Ellie
Wheel always remember
Times that we spent
In deep contemplation
Of so much dissent
Around we would go
Full circle sometimes
Always the same answer
Want peace?
Quiet the mind.
There’s always a circle
A beginning and an end
Forever they’re fused
So nothing to mend
There’s always some movement
Nothing stands still
Just embrace any contrast
No need for strong will.
Be the axle my friend and just observe the wheel.

“When’s his funeral?”

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Symbology – Friday Fictioneers 15 December 2017

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook


He shuffled in, dragging a massive orb atop a rusty pole.

Surreptitiously, we eyed one another. A sense of unease rippled through the room.

He settled in his seat, both hands grasping the pole. Its weight, top heavy, swayed slightly.

Unease was building into discomfort as he sat, silent, observing everyone.

I glanced for the door… would I be first to leave?

He cleared his throat,


“I sense your tension… your unease.”

Our breath, audible in unison.

Discarding the orb, he stretched, sighed loudly, and began…

“How much lighter now… without the weight… of Our World… on our shoulders…”

Friday Fictioneers

Guilty Pleasure – Friday Fictioneers 8 December 2017

PHOTO PROMPT Dale Rogerson

Guilty Pleasure
The silence was tangible. Painful.
Every now and then a rustle of movement was heard, a creak of footwear, a stifled cough.
Charlie tried to swallow quietly, his heart shouted his guilty presence.
“I’m quite prepared to stand here all day!” the Master threatened.
Ted slowly turned, glowering at Charlie.
“Which bright spark of a budding scientist is responsible for the nature artwork in the school yard?”
Supressed laughter disturbed the silence as Charlie’s pores opened – glistening, exposing his fear.
”Well?!” the Master hollered.
Shaking, Charlie slowly raised his hand.
“Please Sir, it’s a Christmas tree!”
Detonation! Laughter Boomed!

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