One Born Every Minute

Fairground Ride Photo: Copyright kattermonran.com

 

An official-looking gentleman approaches a tourist on the London Eye…

“Excuse me sir, you’ll have to give me your camera!”

“You what! Why would I do that?”

“I’m sorry, but you’ve just photographed a secret government installation.”

“Er, hello, it’s a fairground ride!”

“That’s what we want you to think. Look, since the Defence cutbacks we’ve had to mothball the submarine fleet and install our ICBMs in some strange locations.”

“But a fairground? What were you thinking!”

“I’d rather not discuss it. But it does have the advantage of allowing us to offset the costs of maintaining an independent nuclear deterrent by charging a little extra for the rides.”

“But this is madness!”

“Some would take that view, sir.”

“But now the secret’s out… won’t you have to kill me or something?”

“Look, it’s my first day. I don’t want to cause a scene, particularly with all these children here. Tell you what. I’ll keep the camera, and if you promise to say nothing about this, we’ll leave it at that. What do you say?”

“Wow, thanks, pal!”

“No. Thank you! Nice camera, by the way.”

It is a very nice camera. And what is it they say about suckers? There’s one born every minute…

 

This is my entry for this week’s Alistair’s Photo Fiction, which has a word count 0f 100-200 words. Click on the link for more details.

Killing Time

9-nine-mm-pistol-and-ammo                                       Photo: 9 Nine Mm Pistol and Ammo. alex grichenko

 

With the best of intentions, he went back and shot Hitler – then the Soviets overran Europe.

He killed Oswald, but another sniper shot Kennedy.

Now he doesn’t care about outcomes. Just the killing.

 

This story is for the Trifecta Challenge: 33 Words inspired by the Rolling Stones’ classic ‘Sympathy For the Devil’.

The Fall

100 Word Challenge

This story is my contribution for the ’100-Word Challenge for Grownups’, (100WCGU) from Julia’s Place. The prompt is “Fall”.

Click here to find more details. Please read the other stories in this challenge, by clicking here and following the link.

 

I blame myself. I never thought Jane would be the one to fall. I thought maybe my eldest daughter, April would. She’s always been the “nervous” type, who worries about anything.

But it was Jane. In and out of that psychiatric unit for two years. She had electro convulsive therapy, and that helped. It took a small part of her memories, but maybe she’s better off without some of those.

After the fall comes the long slow climb. She’s not there yet, but one day I’ll get my daughter back.

She may stumble, but I won’t let her fall again.

Time and Tide

100 Word Challenge

This story is my contribution for the ’100-Word Challenge for Grownups’, (100WCGU) from Julia’s Place. 

Click here to find more details. Please read the other stories in this challenge, by clicking here.

This week’s prompt is: …as the world turned…

As a young man, Bill had always wanted to have Millions in the bank and live the good life, in a mansion by the sea. Most of all, though, he wanted to leave a legacy for his family.

Poor Bill, being the dreamer he was, never got those business ideas off the ground. Having an ordinary job made him feel like a failure.

Time went by, as the world turned…

Now Bill’s retired, he spends lovely long weekends with his wife and grandchildren, in their caravan by the sea.

Little Maisie asks, “Grandpa, are you rich?”

“No, but today I feel like a Millionaire.”

Blood Brothers (Friday Fictioneers)

seagulls-wicklund Copyright E.A. Wicklund

The Friday Fictioneers’ challenge  is to tell a story in 100 words, based on the photo prompt set by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Please click here to view the other stories.

 

The calm sea was at odds with this violent struggle. Word spread around the flock, as one by one they flew in to witness the epic encounter.

Even though Steve and John were brothers, the two young gulls were ready to fight to the death. And in that moment, they were no longer brothers – they were mortal adversaries.

Steve’s supreme fighting skills were matched by John’s aerial prowess. Neither was prepared to back down.

John used his speed advantage and attacked. Steve parried and countered.

Then a clear, motherly voice cut across the bay. “Jonathan Seagull! Steven Seagull! It’s teatime!”