micro fiction

Meet the New Boss…

/ Steve Lakey / 5 Comments

Masks Photo: Copyright Alastair Forbes

 

That night was spectacular! The Revolutionary Guard crashed the Palace Masquerade Ball at midnight and arrested all the Royals. We ran from room to room. Such opulence, we never even dreamed of! What we couldn’t carry away, we destroyed. I kept two masks as a souvenir of the night we stormed to power.

Our leader, Vladimir, was magnificent. He told us that we were all free, and how everyone was equal. He said that as one of his trusted lieutenants, I could personally put the nooses around every Royal neck. After their ‘fair’ trial of course.

We drank wine from the Palace cellars and chanted his name until dawn.

But how quickly Vladimir changed! He began having private meetings with the Royals, and started talking about “Power sharing” and “necessary compromises”. I was no longer in his inner circle and couldn’t even get to see him.

Of course, I still had influence with high ranking Party members. We had our own private meetings and we all agreed…

Vladimir’s fatal accident was a tragedy for the Revolution, but we will move forward.

I will say more later. But for now, I have a trial to preside over.

 

This is my contribution for Sunday Photo Fiction, hosted by Alastair Forbes. The idea is to write a story of around 100-200 words based on the photo. Click the link for more details. You can view the other stories by clicking here. 

Twist and Shout!

/ Steve Lakey / 11 Comments

skull Photo: Skull by George Hodan

 

In The Scorpio Races, author Maggie Stiefvater writes, “It is the first day of November and so, today, someone will die.”  Give us the next thirty-three words of this story, as you imagine it.  Take it wherever you like, but make it original and make it 33 words exactly.

 

It is the first day of November and so, today, someone will die.

“But I’m hearing in my earpiece that this week there’s a twist: ‘Miss November’ – through to the next round! The High Priest is ‘Sacrifice of the Month’!

Welcome to this week’s HEX FACTOR!”

 

This is my entry for the Trifextra Challenge. Click for more details, and to read the other stories. 

 

A Fishy Tale

/ Steve Lakey / 18 Comments

koi Photo Copyright: Douglas M. MacIlroy

 

Please Mr Spielberg…

I’m Kelvin Codner. That’s me in the photo – the orange fish in the middle. You may remember me from such films as ‘A Fish called Codner” and ‘Dude, Where’s my Carp?’

I make a splash in a crowd scene – you won’t catch me ‘sleeping with the fishes’!

Can I do comedy? Don’t make me laugh! You should see my double act with ‘Salmon Dave’, “Live in the Hollywood Bowl”.

I’m also very versatile. A review for ‘Waterworld’ stated, “Codner is mouth-watering. He just gets batter with every part.”

In short, I’m a scale model of Jaws!

 

This is my contribution for this week’s Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. You can view the other stories, by clicking here.

Redoubting Thomas

/ Steve Lakey / 2 Comments

sand-bags Photo: Sand Bags by Peter Griffin

 

The Weather forecast looked grim. High winds and flooding across England. 

Thomas knew what to do. As a war movie veteran, he got his reluctant family organised.

“Right, we need to build two lines of sand bags to form a flood redoubt”.

No one seemed to know what a redoubt was, but Thomas wasn’t to be put off.

“We don’t have sand or bags, so we’ll have to improvise. Kids, I’ll get some soil from the garden, you bring me pillow cases!”

Mum collected a week’s worth of provisions.

They waited, as the clouds parted…

and the sun streamed through.

 

100 Word Challenge

This is my entry for this week’s 100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups from Julia’s Place. The prompt is the sun streamed through. Click here to view the other entries.

The Blue Bus

/ Steve Lakey / 3 Comments

Puddle Photo: Copyright kattermonran.com

 

Emma watched little Charlotte in her waterproof boots, splashing through the puddles on the pavement. Of course, she wasn’t so little these days. Another few weeks and she’d be seven.

After a few seconds in her own world, Emma realised the time. They needed to get to the taxi rank before the evening rush started. Without thinking, she took Charlotte’s hand and guided her daughter into Main Street. They rushed past the shops, Emma keeping her gaze straight ahead. Halfway along the street, she felt her hand being squeezed. Charlotte had stopped walking and was looking at the ground.

“Mummy, mummy. Can you see the bus?”

“Don’t be silly. There isn’t a bus on this street. It’s just for pedestrians.”

Charlotte pointed at the nearest puddle. “No, not on the street. In the water! I can see Granddad driving his big blue bus, and he’s waving at me!”

“Charlotte! You know Granddad has gone away to a better place. When I was your age, they said I had a over-active imagination. I must have passed it on to you.”

Charlotte shrugged.

Still in denial about her own abilities, Emma avoids looking into puddles. Sometimes she forgets, and sees the blue bus driving by. It makes her cry.

 

This is my contribution for Sunday Photo Fiction, hosted by Al. Click the link for more details.

Click here to view the other stories