Sunday Photo Fiction

143-02-february-14th-2016

“Oh look there! Is that a slaty egret? What a lovely bird!”

“Gerry? I don’t think we should have climbed that fence.”

“Don’t be silly I’d never have seen the slaty egret otherwise. I really didn’t expect to see one those here.”

“I think we need to climb back over the fence.”

“Not yet. Can you pass me the zoom lens?”

“I think this may be a wildlife park.”

“Hmm? If I can get the angle right, I can get a shot.”

“Gerry, we really need to run away now.”

“Stop hissing woman, you’ll scare it off.”

“They’re starting to move. Gerry? The rhinos are starting to move.”

“The what? The…oh dear.”

“Run, Gerry! Run!”

 

From Sunday Photo Fiction 

Thanks for the prompt!

Friday Fiction with Ronovan Writes

The link: Ronovan writes

The challenge: Take your favorite quote from a movie and use it as inspiration for your entry this week. If you want more direction, make it the last sentence in your piece

The movie quote: “Roads? Where we’re going we don’t need roads.” from Back to the Future

Length: 620 words

Puzzle of the Stars

I take the blame for this. When I suggested the road trip I was just trying to think of a way to break my flatmate Joe out of a bad habit. Every night he’d come home from the bank and spend the evening sitting with a puzzle book. Curled up over his Sudoku and cryptic crosswords like an old man. It didn’t seem healthy.

“We’ll drive down to Cornwall, stop off at a few pubs, camp out in fields. It will be a total change from the humdrum,” I said, pleased to see his glimmer of interest. Time to break free.

It was week of pub lunches and getting lost on winding roads before Joe began to change. By day we’d carry on as normal, bickering like a married couple. But at night, as I’d shout at him to help me with the tent, he’d ignore me and just stare up at the stars. Every night, red-faced and huffing from battling canvas I’d ask him,

“What are you looking at, you numpty?”

And without tearing his eyes from the sky, he’d whisper something obscure like,

“What does it all mean though? All those lights blinking on and off, there must be a pattern.” And then he’d carry on staring while I stomped off to find firewood.

By the eighth night I’d had enough and told him we’d be sleeping out under those stars, since he liked them so much. After we’d parked, I pulled our sleeping bags out of the car and threw them into a field. Sitting on a clump of grass, he gave me a faraway smile as a response and let his eyes drift upwards, while I climbed into my sleeping bag in what I hoped conveyed an irritated manner. I was just dozing off when he started speaking again,

“I think I’ve nearly worked it out.”

“What?” I asked, as if I didn’t want to know at all.

“The puzzle of the stars.”

“It’s not a puzzle, Joe,” I said with a sliver of patience. “They’re just stars.”

Maybe we should pick up a bumper book of crosswords from a cornershop tomorrow, he was clearly suffering from withdrawal. I should have tried to wean him off slowly. He started speaking again, his voice suddenly intense. After a week of this star-gazing wispy nighttime musing, it was a bit of a shock to hear actual inflection to his words, as if he had woken up.

“You’re wrong. It’s a puzzle. Like a treasure hunt, you just have to work out what the clues are, where they’re pointing. That’s how you find the treasure.”

“Sure thing, Joe,” I sigh, and turn over to sleep.

I don’t know how much later it was when he woke me.

“We’re going,” he said, shaking me. Too close, his eyes reflecting light, but all around us was blackness. There was a mischievous fire to his voice, like a drunken goblin on a mission.

I was still saying,

“What?” while he was jumping up and running for the car.

I was saying,

“What?” again, as he started the engine. In panic, I stumbled from my sleeping bag, staggered to the car and leaped in the passenger side as he drove away, my door not even closed. But he didn’t head down the road, instead he swerved into the field.

“I get it!” he shouted, driving alongside a line of trees and further into nowhere. Branches shrieked against the windows, leaves slapped at the windscreen.

“What are you doing?” I wailed. With a euphoric grin he said,

“Solving the puzzle.” His face pure wild innocence, free of sanity.

“You’ve left the road! We’re not on the road!” I howl.

“Roads?” he said, “Where we’re going we don’t need roads.”

Park Eavesdrop

It was a crisp spring day and I had forced myself, wheezing and blinking, from the dimness of the flat into the pale sunshine. I stopped in the park to sit down, I’m not sure which creaked louder, me or the bench. I eased myself back to enjoy the dappled light through the trees. A few moments later a young woman joined me. She had a complicated appearance, coloured string decorated her hair, bangles brightened her wrists and wires hung either side of her head. Metal glinted across her face, but her expression was empty. She sat back on the bench, it didn’t creak for her; and she stared vacantly at the sky. We sat side by side for six minutes before someone new entered the park, a gaunt, hunted man. He might only have been in his early twenties, but he had the desperate, wary hunch of someone much older. His face lit up eagerly when he saw the woman.

“Hey, hey!” he said “I know you, didn’t we meet clubbing last week?”

“Oh yeah, maybe,” replied the woman vaguely.

He sat down, a man so bony and skittish I doubt the bench even noticed his presence.

“So how are you doing? How’s tricks?” he asked.

“Oh you know, fine. Enjoying the sunshine.”

“Yeah, beautiful day, right?”

“Hmm,” she said, trying to end the conversation.

“So did you have a good night last night?” he asked, trying it keep it going.

“Yeah, alright, you know?”

“Yeah.” The banality of the conversation was starting to weigh heavily and I began the slow process of gathering my wits and thoughts, so that I could leave the bench. Suddenly, with his eyes flicking left to right and a twitch jumping at the corner of his mouth, he leaned over and whispered something into her ear. She sat back, shocked, and said,

“You’ve seen through time?”

“Shh, don’t shout it.”

I stopped gathering myself and pretended to be engrossed in the song of a robin. He carried on, he was attempting to whisper, but in his urgency to get the words out, he made them loud.

“I don’t know how it happened, I mean I took some acid, but not enough, you know? It definitely wasn’t that. This was something else, like somebody just stepped into my head to show me this, like I needed to see it. A portal just opened up.”

“In the room?”

“No, in my mind. I could feel it, like a door, it just opened. And I could see everything, past and future. And I understood it all, it all made sense. I can still see it now, ask me anything. I’ll tell you. I’ve seen it all.”

“Right. You know, it might have been the acid.” she said, gently. Even with my eyes on the robin, I could sense his demeanour shift, he pulled back. His eager, frantic expression changed to one of cold indifference. She didn’t get it; she wasn’t capable of understanding the enormity of his revelation. She was useless.

“Yeah.” he said.

 

Mingling

Hi there, I’ve been watching you a while. I can see you’re trying, but you’re still getting it all wrong. Your hesitant gait, the nervous smile that’s more of a twitch, the eyes darting around the room desperately looking for someone to talk to; it isn’t working for you.

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Theodore Robespierre Walsh. Quite a mouthful, isn’t it? But now I have your attention, that’s the first lesson right there. That one is for free. Oh don’t worry, I can see your unease. You’re thinking, That one’s for free? Then how much do the others cost? It’s wise thinking, astute thinking. You’re an astute person I can sense that, but don’t let your sharp mind get in the way of your future success.

Yes, I said success! And again, I can see your thoughts, Me? Success? Because you’ve spent a lifetime battered down by Lady Luck. But not anymore. Take a walk with me, away from these dull saps who would drain your life away. I can give you life, I can give you your dreams. Take a walk with me and I will give you the world, or my name’s not Theodore Robespierre Walsh, genie made flesh.

Relaxing

With Henry she didn’t need to be polite or keep up a veneer of niceness. She could share her secret hobbies: her collection of card games and her love of medical complaints with bizarre names. At work she kept her legs crossed, her lipstick from her teeth and her facial expressions neutral. Her personality toned down to shades of beige. At home with Henry she slouched into sarcasm and stink. She curled up around her laptop and burrowed through the Internet like a rabbit, her nose twitching as she searched for another obscur illness to add to her collection.

“Rotator cuff impingement syndrome!” she shouted with glee, scanning the webpage for symptoms and cures, picking through personal accounts, while Henry fiddled with the workings of a Furby.

“Haemochromotosis!” she called out, as he got up to make them a coffee, she rolled the word around her mouth like a boiled sweet.

“I love how you get such joy from the suffering of others,” he had replied, kissing the top of her head as he passed and she smiled, knowing it was true.