writing prompts

Zen You Least Expect It

/ Steve Lakey / 6 Comments

 

Zen Garden

Photo: © Al Forbes

Bob and Jim weren’t having the best of days. The sandstorm had come out of nowhere, and now they were completely lost.

Visibility was still low. The hot, dry sand seemed everywhere, pulling at their ankles, and making every breath painful. Occasionally, huge boulders would appear menacingly out of the dust, only to disappear again, just as quickly.

Heads down, they kept moving forward. But forward to where? Even as they moved, Time appeared to stand still.

“Hey, Bob. I’ve seen that boulder before. I think we’re going round in circles!”

“It’s worse than that, Jim. We’re out of energy drinks and chocolate. Only a miracle can save us now!”

They pushed on, for what seemed like hours, until they could go no further. Finally, the game was up. They sank to their knees in despair…

It was Jim that saw it first, or it may have been Bob – they couldn’t be sure.

Lush greenery amongst the sand. An oasis? No, it’s only a Garden Centre! With Easter holiday Discounts. Yay!

After recuperating in the café, with Mars bars and fizzy drinks, Bob and Jim needed to seriously chillax. They headed to the Zen garden and quickly lost themselves in the moment. Time appeared to stand still.

“Hey, Bob. I’ve seen that boulder before. I think we’re going round in circles!”

 

This is my contribution to Sunday Photo Fiction, April 20th 2014, hosted by Al Forbes.

Click  the logo for more details. 

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Stardust Scooper

/ Steve Lakey / 7 Comments
Beagle 2

Photo: Copyright Al Forbes 2014

Craig Z Stardust walks in front of the studio cameras, desperately hand-combs his greasy hair and flashes a grimy set of teeth. He nervously acknowledges the familiar TV Business Brains he is pitching to.

 “If you take a look at the picture I’ve brought with me, it’s my idea of what the ‘Stardust Scooper’ could look like.”

Craig removes a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket, which reveals a photograph of the Martian probe, Beagle 2. Blank looks all round. Craig’s nerves are getting worse, but he continues anyway.

“I’m hoping to revolutionise home cleaning by using Mars-tested technology. My automated, soundless vacuum system could wipe out the dirt, and silence the competition! I haven’t actually made one yet, but it’ll soon be up and running. I’ve heard the Beagle’s blueprints are on the internet somewhere. Of course, I’ll need upfront funding. $2 million should cover it.”

The Brains are loving it. They know what’s happening. This has got to be one of those crazy losers who’ll be filmed for the series’ outtakes. They all agree and sign the fake contracts that Craig passes them, just for the cameras.

Unfortunately, Craig may be eccentric, but his contracts are water-tight. With his fame and fortune, he’s hoping to pitch a new TV show, Craig Zee Like a Fox.

This is my contribution for Sunday Photo Fiction, February 2nd 2014, hosted by Al Forbes. Click here for more details.

To read the other stories, click the logo.

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Water Under the Bridge

/ Steve Lakey / 22 Comments
bridge

Photo: Copyright Al Forbes

 

Visiting time again. Standby for the Grandkids! They’ll probably want to know about more stories about my bridge. I tell them that I built it with my bare hands, back in the day.

The bridge has been a focal point to me over the years. Many’s the time I’ve leaned over the edge and told my troubles to the flowing water underneath. And they’ve all been carried off to who-knows-where. Maybe there’s a part of the sea that holds all my sadness and worries. And a better part where the good things I’ve lost are all there waiting for me. My lovely Alice, for a start.

I don’t go there anymore, at least not physically. I ask the staff, but they say there’s never enough of them on-shift to drive me over there. I’d wheel myself if I could. but my weak arms couldn’t get me further than the TV room.

The staff think I have an afternoon nap everyday. But I’ve got them all fooled. Since I read that “Creative Visualisation” book off the Volunteer’s trolley, I’ve learnt to take myself to the bridge in my mind. In fact, if my daughter and the kids don’t show up in a couple of minutes, that’s where I’ll be heading.

 

This is my contribution to Sunday Photo Fiction, January 26th 2014, hosted by Al Forbes. For more details, please click the link. 

To read the other stories, click on the logo. 

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Bed Rest

/ Steve Lakey / 18 Comments
Buildings

Photo: Copyright Björn Brudberg

 

“Mikey! Time to get up! No? Just lay there then. I’ve been ‘blessed’ with the laziest son in the world! Your house won’t finish itself, you know. If you think I’m building it all by myself, you’d better think again, Sunshine.

I’ve bought us a new metal ladder. That old wooden one that broke, I’ve chopped it up for firewood. You should have seen it burn!

Well, I’m going to get myself a nice cuppa. You want one? You can just nod, you know. Or blink. The doctor says you can hear me. Please Mikey, squeeze my hand! Just once.”

 

This is my contribution to Friday Fictioneers 100 word photo challenge, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Please click the link for more details. 

To read the other stories, please click the logo.

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Treasured Island

/ Steve Lakey / 4 Comments
Watchtower

Photo: Copyright Al Forbes 2013

 

It’s almost time. I climb up the ladder and in through the hatch. I check my calculations on the chart, once again. There’s no need to look through the telescope. The ship won’t be visible for another two hours and eight minutes.

I take a last look around. I have mixed feelings about leaving my Pacific island home. Two years and three months ago my luxury yacht ran aground and sank. I was the only survivor.

Surprisingly, the guilt and loneliness faded after a while. To pass the time, I set myself little challenges and tasks. When the salvaged rations ran out, I had to become self-sufficient anyway. But this island has been good to me, with unlimited fresh water and abundant wildlife for food.

I know the drill, off by heart. It’s a sixty minute walk to Beacon Hill. I’ll light the damp vegetation that’s piled there. It will burn black smoke for the rest of the day. Then, it’s a leisurely walk down to the beach and wait for the little boat they’ll despatch for me.

I sit on the beach until sundown, marvelling at the perfect harmony of the sea and sky.

One of these days, I may actually light that fire. But not yet. I’ll stay in my paradise a little longer.

 

This is my contribution to Sunday Photo Fiction, 29 December 2013, hosted by Al Forbes. Click here for more details.

To read the other contributions, click the logo.

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