Let the Games Begin

The Cave Mistress has given us another historical medical photo for The Scribes Cave flash fiction. If you want to take part, click on over; the Cave Mistress will make you very welcome. You only require 50-200 words to join in. While you’re there, have a read of the other stories too.

Scribes cave 17th March 2015

Admiral Masters walked up and down the rows of beds examining each subject without saying a word. He nodded towards the door and Professor McGoinen followed him into the hallway.

“Impressive.”

“Thank you, Admiral. We aim to please.”

“Why the nurses?”

“We have to make it look good if we’re going to fool any enemy moles. Of course, the uniforms are just a cover. They’re actually naval officers.”

The colonel harrumphed. “So, we just wheel ‘em on board right under the noses of the enemy and simply set sail on a mission of mercy.”

“The Captain had this wild idea and put it to me. Disguising the missiles as highly infectious patients was a stroke of genius on his part. No one is going to inspect them too closely for fear of contracting something. They’re about the same size as an average male, and unlike the old Sea Cat missiles, they don’t have any fins to try to hide.”

“Right then, let’s get the er… patients loaded.”

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It’s the Little Things that Count

It’s time for Monday’s Finish the Story. You have up to 150 words to dazzle readers with your brilliance, your wit, or even both – or just make us laugh. But unless you join in, we won’t be able to enjoy your story. So, hop on over to Barb’s Monday’s Finish the Story  and have a go. Do not forget to click on the blue guy on Barb’s page and add your link so that others can enjoy your story too! My story starts under the photo.

2015-03-16-bw-beacham - Monday Finish the StoryA body suddenly crashed through a plate glass window at the Brigadier’s house. His wife burst into tears, “Really, Alastair, it’s just getting beyond a joke. You must speak to the Andersons and tell them it has to stop.”

“Hmmm?” the Brigadier lowered his pipe and looked up from his Sunday Times. “Did you say something dear?”

“I said, you have to speak to the Andersons.”

“Did you want me to invite them to lunch?” the Brig looked confused, “but I didn’t think you liked the Andersons.”

“I don’t want to invite them to lunch; I want you to tell them it has to stop immediately.” Her voice rose to a piercing shriek.

“What has to stop, dearest?”

That has to!” Penelope pointed to a small man getting groggily to his feet. He poked his tongue out at her before running out the door.

“The Andersons, they’re having a dwarf tossing party again.”

Posted in Flash Fiction, Monday's Finish the Story, writing | Tagged , , , | 33 Comments

Lucky Dip Anyone?

You’ve heard of The Ghost in the Machine? Well, I have one—in my email program and he’s driving me crazy!! “Oh,” I hear you say, “How do you know it’s a he?”

Ha! That’s easy. What he’s doing is perverse, annoying and just plain childish.
I started my email program after lunch, and checked who has sent me emails. Every one of them is from the same person. “Whaaat?!”

I open one. The subject is the same as in the email list, but the actual email is from someone else. You can see what I mean from the picture. They all show that they are from Momus News. Yet the one I clicked on is from Leanne at Writer’s Wednesday Blog Hop.

screen shot

It’s the same with every one of them. This morning, when I first switched on my computer, they were all from Morpeth Road. Yesterday they were all from Wiley’s Wisdom. I’m fully expecting them to be from someone else if I shut down my computer and start it up again.

While I love surprises, this is just a tad annoying, because I read my emails in a particular order. Non-writing related ones I read first to get them out of the way, and leave the blog post notification ones till last – you know… keeping the best till last, because I love reading the flash fiction my internet friends write :D

This is certainly making life interesting; rather like a lucky dip at the fair. I guess I’ll just have to start from the beginning and go through them one by one. Hopefully, tomorrow my annoying friend will rack off, and go and bug someone else – but not one of my friends.

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Dear Friend, What is it about God…?

Lyn:

I cannot begin to say how beautiful this is.

Originally posted on Writings and Ruminations:

Dear Friend,

What is is about God that makes you so mad? The mere mention of His name causes your shoulders to tense, and your fists to curl, and your mouth to spit words of hate.

What is is about God that makes you so skeptical? The mere mention of His name causes indignant doubt and the passionate desire to prove His non-existence.

What is is about God that makes you so irritated? The mere mention of His name causes you to turn your back, to tune out your heart, to question the intention of the Believer.

What is it about God that makes it easier to believe in the universe, to believe in coincidence, to believe in “just meant to be”–all of which are equally unseen and void of visible proof and human explanation. Why is God so much more intensely unfathomable than those other things to which we…

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My Extended Absence

Just wanted to let all my lovely WordPress friends know I’m taking an extended leave from the world of blogging. Just after Christmas, I developed a lung infection that left me with little energy to do anything much more than walk from my bed to my recliner. I’m just finishing my fourth lot of antibiotics.

Cally at her best

Cally at her best

This weekend, our little dog, Cally, became very ill. The vet thinks she has a slipped disk in her neck. She’s on two different pain medication and some anti-inflammatory tablets. She has to be confined in a warm place and kept as still as possible. Fortunately, this is not a problem as she has no interest in moving around. When she does need to go on the grass, she staggers like an old drunk, poor little thing. I’m not getting much sleep – about three hours a night. Her brother, Napoleon (an Oriental cat), can’t understand why he’s not allowed to curl up with her in the basket. For those of you who haven’t met Cally and Napoleon, you can read their love story at, “Just so You Know, I’m the Boss .”

I’m back to reading blogs some days, but not up to commenting or participating in any of my favourite flash fiction sites. Lord willing, I’ll be back in full swing in a week or two. My very best to you all.

Posted in writing | 25 Comments

Over Christmas and the New Year

I’ll be disappearing for a few weeks over Christmas and the New Year starting from Christmas Eve. During that time, I won’t have access to the internet – or it will be so intermittent, that I’m likely to do something desperate like throw my laptop across the room. This internet havoc will mean I probably won’t be able to read your wonderful posts. I shall return though, just like a bad penny. But, before I head off into a world without cyberspace, I’d like to wish all of you a very wonderful Christmas and a safe and happy New Year.

Love and Blessings,
Lyn

merry-christmas-merry-and-bright-550x320

Posted in Christmas, Friendship | 32 Comments

Y Ddraig Goch – Sunday Photo Fiction

Each Sunday, Alastair supplies a photo from his collection for us to write a piece of fiction, poem, or whatever inspires you up to 200 words. If you’d like to join in, wander on over to Sunday Photo Fiction. Click on the little blue froggy thingy to leave a link to your post and read what others have written. My story starts after the picture.

DragonLewis stared at the apparition in disbelief. “Y Ddraig Goch!” his voice trembled. Whether from fear or awe, Gareth couldn’t tell.

“You know what it is?”

Lewis nodded, his eyes growing rounder as the dragon moved closer to their hiding place. “The Red Dragon. I thought he was just a myth—my Gran told me about him when I was a little boy.”

“Not very big is he…” the scorn in Gareth’s voice obvious, “for a vicious killer I mean.”

“He’s not a vicious killer. He’s a protector; our protector—Wales’ protector.”

The dragon stopped and sniffed the air; moving his head slowly from side to side. A low growl grew steadily until the dragon raised his snout, and a ball of fire erupted, melting the rocks that hid them.

“Lewis Blevins,” the dragon’s voice rumbled, “you will soon come into your destiny and become a true Bleddyn.” He lowered his head until it barely brushed the top of Lewis’s head and Lewis felt the dragon’s warm breath flow over him.

I’m going to die! But when Lewis opened his eyes, the dragon had vanished, Gareth was nowhere in sight and at his feet lay a sword and shield.

———————————–
Author’s note: The name Blevins is derived from the Welsh given name Bleddyn which meant “wolf cub”. Y Ddraig Goch means The Red Dragon.

Posted in Alastair's Photo Fiction, Flash Fiction | Tagged , , , , , | 24 Comments