MARVIN'S EXTRAORDINARY EXPERIENCE - a story in 100 words

MARVIN’S EXTRAORDINARY EXPERIENCE

Marvin was waiting for his brother to help move his stall, so when the Thing landed he was alone.

“Who are you?” it demanded.

“Don’t you mean, ’Take me to your Leader’?” Marvin replied.

“That is so last millennium.”

Marvin tipped his hat. “Marvin Brown, purveyor of pretzels and chilli chicken dogs. You look a bit undernourished.”

The Thing sniffed with a nose the size of a small car and covered its face. “Don’t think I’ll risk it, thanks,” it said, and shot back up into the night sky.

“Bloody aliens don’t know what’s good for them,” said Marvin.

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A ten minute, one hundred word story for a very odd photo prompt - my first thought was, who would actually PUT something so weird in the middle of a town? My granddaughter would be scared silly. 

Thanks to Roger Bultot for the photo and to Rochelle for running the weekly show that is Friday Fictioneers. Click on the link to read what other writers thought of the photo - https://rochellewisoff.com/

DINNER - a story for Friday Fictioneers in 100 words

DINNER

People were enjoying a peaceful dinner when the power failed, plunging the restaurant into darkness.

In the ensuing confusion tables were overturned, glasses smashed, and then the screaming started. One after another the voices rose to a crescendo ... and stopped. Then there was another sound, like a child slurping thick milkshake through a straw, but amplified a hundred-fold.

After a few moments there was nothing but silence.

When the police arrived, three strange tubes were disappearing into the ground, smeared with gore, and the floor of the restaurant was a foul, pulpy mess.

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Not the most pleasant way to make my reappearance after a few weeks absent, but those waving arms look menacing to me! Two weeks ago I was in Northern Ireland visiting my elder daughter and her husband and drinking Guinness. And last week I was painting my bedroom and my desk was inaccessible!

DELAYED - a story in a hundred words

DELAYED

When my flight is seriously delayed, I phone Ellie.

She’s furious. “How could you? We’re meeting the vicar tomorrow!”

Her shrill voice carries to the woman beside me, who smiles sympathetically. “My boyfriend has to attend a business dinner alone – he thinks I’ve done it deliberately.”

The airline offers hotel rooms and we share dinner – I haven’t talked to Ellie for that long, ever.

We meet again at breakfast, share a cab back to the airport, and part on a promise – once the decks are cleared we’ll meet again.

We have so much more to say.

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Rochelle is the indefatigable woman who runs this weekly beanfeast and you can find her on  https://rochellewisoff.com/   if you follow the froggy link you can read scores of other stories prompted by her photograph.

I have been busy painting the door frames on my landing. It's a small cottage and the three doorframes, which comprise three sides of a square, have only an inch of wall between them. This makes positioning the drip sheet easy, but it's also easy to step back and smudge the paint, and oh! the repetetiveness of the task! Only the light shining on wet paint tells me where I've been and which is still waiting to be done.

Writing and gardening have filled my spare time :)
PS - I may be AWOL next week - we are off to Lisnaskea in Northern Ireland to visit my daughter.

VISITING MABEL - a story in a hundred words

VISITING MABEL

“You’ve got a visitor, Nan,” Sandra said brightly.

“That’s nice, dear. The kettle’s boiling, I’ll make tea.”

Aileen looked around. A cushion-filled armchair, an iron warming on the antique range, a chenille cloth hiding the table-legs. Sixty years out of date, certainly, but nothing to suggest the old lady was losing the plot.

Mabel put a cup by Aileen’s elbow and offered a tin of biscuits.

“Don’t take the Bourbons – I’m saving those for Gerald.”

She touched the sepia photograph that held pride of place on the mantelpiece.

“His letter from the front last week said he’d be home soon.”

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People have different ways of coping with grief - who's to say Mabel's way is wrong? Dementia also manifests itself in many different ways, and losing forty years is possibly one of the easiest for the sufferer.

Thanks to Rochelle -  https://rochellewisoff.com/ - for hosting Friday Fictioneers every week, even when she's off on a jaunt, and to Valerie J Barrett for the atmospheric photograph.

SHUTTERS - a story in exactly one hundred words

SHUTTERS

All visitors see are the bright paintwork, the pots of cheerful geraniums leading up to the front door. Nobody notices the shutters down here, the shrubs blocking the steps in case anyone becomes curious.

Two years I have spent here – I mark the days on the wall behind the sofa, hidden from sight.

They tell everyone I died and left them the house. She wants to make it true, but my pathetic son hasn’t the stomach for it.

She will try one day soon. She imagines I am helpless, but even a wooden spoon can be sharpened to a point.

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Thanks as always to https://rochellewisoff.com/  for hosting our weekly jaunt into a flash fiction fantasy world. Follow the link from Rochelle's blog to read scores of other stories, all prompted by Ceayr's photo of a house that doesn't have the dark story I have attributed to it - or maybe it does?

WHEN MATT AND TRACEY WERE MARRIED

WHEN MATT AND TRACEY WERE MARRIED

Matt and Tracey’s wedding was perfect.

Her Dad mellowed from ‘Don’t bring that hippie round my house’ to ‘He’s a son-in-law to be proud of’.

His mother, who had threatened not to come, was splendid in pink with a huge hat.

His brother’s speech managed – just – not to offend Grandma, the cake was delicious, and her sister caught the bouquet.

They jetted off to the Maldives in a daze of happiness.

The glow lasted till the third day. The islands were so low in the fabulous azure sea that the only way Matt could get a signal was by climbing a tree.

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I wrote today's story in ten minutes, and it came in at exactly 100 words, so I hope it passes muster! 

Thanks to Rochelle for hosting our group of writers and to Susan Eames for the photograph - I am sure a mobile signal was the last thing on her mind when she took it! Sorry, Susan :(

BLINDFOLD - a story in a hundred words

BLINDFOLD

Nobody wanted to play Cousin Gary’s stupid game, but as we hadn’t seen him for years we let him persuade us.

I should have stopped it when he held Susie a second too long while guiding her hand to pin the tail on the donkey, but I told myself not to be paranoid.

Then it was my turn. Blindfolded, I heard scuffling and a smothered gasp, but even then I didn’t guess, and finished my go before I removed Gary’s woollen scarf.

The expression on Susie’s face will haunt me to the grave.

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I am late on parade this week, due mostly to the lovely weather which has taken me out into the garden instead of sitting at my computer. Having inherited a neglected garden last summer, there is a lot to do. Protecting my spinach from the depradations of pigeons was this week's prioiry!