Ginger

Friday Fictioneers

I am late-very late-again! The jamboree at FF with our awesome hostess Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, took off  5 days back .Over 100 writers joined the fun and submitted their 100 word stories in response to the weekly photo prompt.The photo prompt below was provided by none other than my very talented friend Bjorn Rudberg. Thanks Bjorn for really stumping me  for two days and then with the mercury climbing  higher,I almost “melted” 🙂 Finally,today the weather  being slightly better,I decided to post the story.My 100 words follow the photo prompt below.

For participating or reading other entries in this writing challenge,click on the url http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/friday-fictioneers-2/

 

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Copyright – Björn Rudberg

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Ginger

Ginger’s orange coat shimmered as she climbed the wall.

 A loud burst of music startled her.

The neighbours were at it again-what did they call it? Jam session!

It was not that she did not like music but they needed to take lessons from her boyfriend.

Ah, when Tom serenades her even his friends can’t resist joining-the flirtatious rogues!

She did not socialize readily but tonight the delicious smell wafting over warranted a visit.

Nobody noticed her as she made her way to the dining table till someone cried out, “What a cute cat!”

Meow! So much for dinner…

 

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A life extraordinaire

A life extraordinaire

 

“This is your last chance, Myra,” thundered Magdalena.
No one in Neverland had ever seen Magdalena, the Fairy Queen lose her cool in last 600 years. But Myra brought out the worst in her. She had been training to be a wish fairy since the last 150 years but she was always messing up.

 

“Remember,” Magdalena continued,” you can grant three wishes to one human and this spell has to last for a year. Till that time you are to remain earthbound. In case you fail, you are going to be transformed into a butterfly fairy and that’s final.”

 

Myra nodded meekly and picking up her wand and the pouch of magic dust, took off in search of her quarry.

Harry sat at his ordinary dining table, eating an ordinary breakfast and looking forlorn. For the nth time in a week, he wished for an extraordinary life. Till recently he was quite satisfied, if not happy with his life. At 30, he held a good job at a small firm earning enough to live in comfort. He dated once in a while but did not have a steady girlfriend. Then, about ten days back, he happened to meet his friend George and the unrest started.

 
Now George had been a pudgy, pimply fellow with little brains and so to see him looking quite dashing with a sexy siren type of wife hanging on to his arm, while they walked towards their swanky Porsche was difficult to absorb. Then George invited him home and the sprawling, luxurious country house with golf course and swimming pools made Harry’s head swim. George was a businessman and hobnobbed with the jet set.

 
Since then, Harry had been moping, wishing for a hi-flying life. Sighing, he got up to get ready for work, totally unaware that Myra the intern, had landed at his window and decided to pick his brains at that moment. She smiled and said to herself,”Easy does it Myra! No goofing up-this is your last chance.” She concentrated, trying to remember the right spell and then flew inside Harry’s house. She pointed her wand at Harry and waved it, blowing some magic dust towards him.

 
Harry immediately felt very light and happy. That evening, he met a beautiful girl named Sara and could not believe his luck when she seemed interested in him too. They got talking and discovered that they had same likes and dreams. Promising to meet next day, they parted. Harry hardly slept that night.

 
Next morning he was taken aback to receive an email from a very reputed company, asking him to come for an interview. He believed that Sara was his good luck charm and went joyfully to give that interview. His new found confidence and positive demeanour got him the high paid job easily.

 
Soon Sara and Harry were inseparable. It turned out that her father was a very well placed politician and with his help, Harry was soon scaling new heights in his career. Six months down the road, he proposed to Sara and she accepted. The wedding took place with a lot of pomp and show.

 
Myra watched all this with gleeful anticipation. She was looking forward to completing her internship successfully and flying back home in six months time. Funnily, she was beginning to enjoy her life among humans-they fascinated her. Thus distracted, she forgot to sprinkle fairy dust on Harry one morning and everything started unravelling.

 
On his way to his newly acquired business Harry met with a minor accident. Thought he was at fault, seeing his new Bugatti damaged, he lost his temper and berated the driver of the other car, not noticing that it was the police chief. He was jailed for committing a public nuisance.

 
Myra flew in to rectify matters but though her intent was to resolve the issue, in her panic, she mixed the spells and this caused so much complication that Harry was not only refused bail but was imprisoned for 3 months.

 
Meanwhile, Myra lost her wand and this worsened matters. Sara started seeing another man and soon she eloped with him.
Harry returned a changed man. He came back to an empty home and was not really shocked to learn that he had been dismissed from his job. Looking back he pined for his old life. Myra was recalled to serve as butterfly fairy.

 

Through the clarity of retrospect, the obvious conclusion surfaced: things don’t always turn out as planned.

 

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This is my response to Speakeasy’s weekly prompt #154, which is to(a) write a piece in 750 words or less (mine is 750,including the title & the required quote) (b) with some kind of reference to the media prompt, a short film by Tanmay Shah, entitled Intent, and (c) use the last sentence of: “Through the clarity of retrospect, the obvious conclusion surfaced: things don’t always turn out as planned.”

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Mr Fox and Ms Crane

 

 http://t1.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRI6aJ_0nLBMxRApEqeipUQCh7rAFlopIuBxbgoUljtVrxdf7WYiw                                                                 http://www.gutenberg.org/files/11339/11339-h/images/052-2.jpg    

 

Mr Fox and Ms Crane

 

Sara the crane, stood watching, anxious 

as Ryan her son, was teased in the schoolyard

she wrung her wings, tension brewing

Just then Brer fox, her husband, came and stood next to her

pulling her close, he said,”Honey, no worries

he is our son; no way will he be beaten.”

Sara looked at him and smiled for

Sure enough Ryan did not weaken,

but walked away

leaving the bullies defeated.

Brer said, “Yes, he has taken after you,

 Knows how to give as good as he gets.”

 

Strolling back, they saw Diane, the lissome vixen

followed by a horde of admirers

And Mommy Sara winked and said,

”She sure is her Papa’s daughter,

there’s no escaping her allure.”

 

Walking home, he reminisced

“Remember our first date?”

“Yes!”She laughed, “You invited me to dinner

And served goulash on a dish

And I went home mad with hunger

drooling on the pillow

dreaming of skewered fish!”

 

He chuckled and responded

“Not one to be left behind,

you decided to pay me back in the same coin

Invited me to lunch on a hot afternoon

And, served my favourite sherbet in a pitcher

almost killing me of thirst, that eventful day

per chance you wanted to send me home

lying on a stretcher?”

 

“But then” she grinned, “McDonald’s came to town

Brer’s eyes shone and he added,

”And when Starbucks opened shop,

it was the jewel in the crown.”

“Our dates were non- stop

and we fell in love!”Sara sighed.

 

“Am glad we were both smart

Not to let our shortcomings keep us apart

Found a way to reach each other’s heart

And that’s how our life got a head start”,

Brer concluded, beaming with pride.

 

 

MORAL- Sometimes tit for tat may lead to this and that (and more) 😉

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The above poem was written for http://dversepoets.com/.Today’s challenge,Let’s be fabulists today is being hosted by .The rules he has set for this challenge are-

 

    • take an existing fable and create a poem out of it, maybe moving the anthropomorphism back to real humans.
    • or, tell your own fable in the form of your preference. I think a world of foxes, lions and scorpions still exists, and can be used to create a poem.
    • or simply rewrite you fable of choice in poetic words, many of the fables were actually poems to start with so you are in great company with the original fabulist.
    • And if you use a fable and not just the characters, please include a reference to that fable. I would love to learn how your world of fables look like.

For more details,or to read what other participants have posted or to participate,please visit the site http://dversepoets.com/

 

 

Red Herring

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS

This week I am really running late for Rochelle’s 100 words flash fiction contest and when I just checked,already 104 writers from across the globe have  made it to the arena.The lamps must be aglow with happiness and all these  energetic writers must have had some really bright ideas ,looking at the cool photo prompt for this week,supplied by Down M.Miller.Well,the bulb in my mind must be  on a holiday and thus,,if you find my 100 words a little “dim”,blame it on the absence of illumination,lol!

For those of you who want to check out what the bright ones have posted or those who would love to write  for this amazing site ,do check  Rochelle Wisoff- Fields amazing site by clicking on this link-http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/friday-fictioneers-2/

Here is the photo-prompt for this week and my story follows it:-)

Copyright - Dawn M. Miller

                                                Copyright – Dawn M. Miller

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Red herring

When it made contact with the target, the resulting crunch sounded very satisfying.

Sharon looked at the broken shards of the lamp -poetic justice, huh?

Now, all that remained was to tidy up the place and remove all evidence.

Then she had a brainwave. Why not implicate the other?

She so hated Simon.

Sharon laid the body on the carpet

Later in the evening, she returned to the crime scene.

Aunt Amy lay in bed, moaning.

“I hate you Simon! How could you break my favourite Tiffany lamp- just for a mouse!”

The cat sat outside, looking miffed.

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Christmas Pudding

Trifextra: Week Ninety-Eight

 

Trifextra says,“Now onto this week’s Trifextra prompt. Charles Dickens, in A Christmas Carol, wrote “There is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good humour.” We are giving you exactly 33 words to make us laugh out loud and spread some festive cheer.”

See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.C0AqeSTM.dpuf

Here come my 33 words.

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Christmas pudding

Honey, what’s for dessert?

Season’s favourite-Christmas pudding! Taste some?

Umm …yummy but has a funny flavour.

That must be Silvadene.

What!!

Darling, it got burnt a bit. So I applied the ointment…

Ack!

(Author’s note- “Silver sulfadiazine (INN, or silvadene) is a topical sulfonamide/silver[1] antibacterial used as a topical cream on burns.)

 

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Slippery customer

Trifecta: Week 107

 

On now to this week’s challenge, where the word is:

MELT (transitive verb)

Remember: 

• Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
• You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.  
• The word itself needs to be included in your response.  
• You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.  
• Only one entry per writer.   –

See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.Hod5X3m7.dpuf

 

 

Well,after two days of agony,nursing a bad bout of migraine,here I am groggy but better,attempting to play catch up.Hope this offering(333 words) is not entirely unpalatable,though a tad silly;-)

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Slippery customer

“It started two months back-with her feet, “Harris stated tiredly.

“What do you mean?”

“You see her beautiful feet were developing calluses and cracks. No salons would do-she was a DIY kind of woman. So, off she went to the market and came back laden with all kinds of special scrubs, exfoliating tools and oils .After that there was no stopping her. Agreed her feet started becoming softer but this was like OCD-I mean she would just melt at the mention of any product promising to soften her feet and order them at the drop of a hat!”

 Detective Sheridan looked at the middle-aged man sitting before him and said, “So you decided to kill her, Harris?”

“No officer, I did not! Yes, I admit I harboured that thought specially when meals became few and far between and the soup tasted-ugh soapy! The house reeked of exotic oils and my sinuses became clogged. Soggy towels, pumice stones and scrubbers of all kinds filled up our bathroom shelf! Worst was her insistence on wearing thick woollen socks even in our intimate moments-the few we had that is!”Harris sighed.

Sheridan hid a smile under his bushy moustache and continued with his investigation. His sympathies lay with Harris but he was duty bound.

“Then how do you explain the fatal injury on her head? Are you suggesting she hit herself?”

“Ah no Officer! I know how it looks but she must have slipped and hit her head on the marble floor, when she rushed to open the door. I had warned her many times about the dangers of walking on wet feet but she never listened. You saw for yourself the wet footprints and the tub of soapy water.The courier company can verify…”

“Hmm, you mean in her eagerness to receive the package of wonder foot cream that she had ordered, she ran?”

“Yes officer.”

“Too convenient don’t you think? But for your sake Harris, I hope the post-mortem report rules out any foul play.”

 

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The Baby

Monday, October 28, 2013

Trifecta: Week 101

This week Trifecta says-

On now to our weekly prompt.  It’s our last Halloween-inspired prompt of 2013, and we can’t wait to see what you’ve got in store for us.  Please remember that we are looking for the third definition of our prompt word.  Please also note that we need the word exactly as it appears below.  No tense changes allowed.  Good luck!

boo 

1 (interjection)
used to express contempt or disapproval or to startle or frighten2 (noun)
a sound that people make to show they do not like or approve of someone or something3 (verb) to show dislike or disapproval of someone or something by shouting “Boo” slowly

http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.wAcSvVw2.dpuf

A tough cookie-this!Hoping that I have used the correct definition and that my cookie won’t crumble 😉

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The Baby

Evening shadows lengthened and shrouded the nooks and crannies of the old mansion. The eerie silence was dotted with the shy rustling of fall leaves, being kissed by the passing breeze. Not a soul stirred inside-yet.

In the nearby forest, shadowy, amorphous shapes played hide and seek.

Night came in quietly, wearing her black velvet cloak. Moon peeked out from behind two brooding clouds, reflected for a second, and then went back into hiding.

Inside the mansion, furry legs scuttled from cellars, tails swishing, red eyes glinting. Whispery wings unfurled from their slumbering upside down positions and swooped down. Shimmery threads glistened in the corners of the room. The Master watched, unseen, pleased to see the minions bustling around.

He sensed her before she appeared before him. Even after 400 years, she looked as good as new and he was proud of his choice. She gave him a smouldering look and smiled, gold flecks glinting in her narrowed eyes. He enveloped her in his cape and they kissed passionately.

Just then the front door burst open and a handsome young man slunk in .He looked ashen and this pleased his parents, for it became him but he also looked down in the fangs, and that worried them.

“Oh! Not tonight of all nights!” cried his Mommy.

“What is the matter Son?” Asked his father.

“The kids in the village don’t like me!” The century old baby Vampire seemed on the verge of tears.

Instantly Mommy was next to him, holding him.

“My poor Baby!” She crooned.

Turning to her mate, she said, “ Didn’t I tell you not to let him go alone? He is too young and those kids are such bullies!”

Papa Vampire said quietly, “It’s time he grew up! He is a Vampire. They should be scared of him! Go, show them son!”

Baby Vampire cried out in fear, “No Papa! They will boo me again!”

“Put him to bed before the guests see him like this,” said Papa Vampire, looking dejected.

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Trifextra: Week Eighty-Eight

Weekend is here and  it is time for Trifextra.

Trifecta has a history of dedicating the entire month of October to Halloween.  They are kicking it off early and easy with this prompt:

You’ve found some old books.  On page 3 of one of the books, this illustration appears:

Artist credit: Dan Duford
www.poisonedplayground.com

Trifecta wants us to give the 33 words that follow this illustration.  What happens next? 

Here is mine 🙂

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Brain-dead

 

Jeepers! You are ugly!

Umm…pffttt…

Oh God! You stutter!

OOOOAAARRGGHH!

Don’t! Your breath stinks!

Squelch…Squish…

Man! You are falling to pieces!

Unhhhh…

“JOSH!”

 Go back! Hide!

 Mmmffff…

Banging the book shut-

 “Coming, Mom!”

 

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