Twittering Tales #154

Photo by Tama66 at Pixabay.com

A multilingual misunderstanding

“Il est temps de se faire la malle Frank.”

Marie-Claire followed him as he went upstairs and opened the big trunk.

“What are you doing cheri?”, she smiled.

“Packing – la malle!”

“Mais ‘se faire la malle’ means to make a quick getaway, not to pack it!

Frank grinned.

“Zut, wrong again!” (279 chars)

A cheeky French/English Twittering Tales story today.

My featured photo was taken in a Chinese high speed train somewhere between Chengdu and X’ian.

Sunday Photo Fiction – September 15, 2019

Photo from Pixabay

Looking at the sheer randomness of the chairs, you might be thinking that a hurricane, or at least gale force winds, had passed nearby, whipping the chairs into this seemingly random arrangement.

In reality BA/b had passed the better part of a week painstakingly placing the chairs in this, his most well known installation.

BA/b, formerly known as Robert Campbell, born in 1947, was a steelworker, made redundant in the early seventies.

Availing himself of his newly found leisure time, he initially sculpted intricate, miniature metal sculptures, before turning to metal installations around the cusp of the 21st century.

It was unfortunate that this installation was to be his last as he suffered a fatal accident slipping from the top of the structure as he was carefully placing the last few pieces.

The installation, posthumously entitled “Nowhere to Sit”, was bequeathed to the local council.

If you have any works of BA/b you would be well advised to hold onto them, and revise your insurance.

They have become very collectable. (174 words)

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I didn’t write much during my cruise around the Bristish Isles but I’m, back for this Sunday Photo Fiction Challenge!

Twittering Tales #153

Photo by Nadiya Ploschenko at Unsplash.com

When you left, I tried to remain in the dark, preferring the gloom that matched my splintered heart.

But the early rising sun found a way of dispelling my melancholy with its warm searching rays and sowed the seeds of my convalescence.

I took a long, deep cleansing breath. (271 characters)

I’m a bit late for Twittering Tales this week but I do enjoy this challenge!

The Witch : another story revisited

(c) Barbara W. Beacham

The Witch

From her tiny balcony, the witch, brazenly watched the world go by.

Long, unkempt hair rested uneasily upon the grubby shawl adorning her bent, and ungainly form.

A hooked and crooked nose erupted from her face.

A face covered in warts and festering pimples.

Her twisted and deformed mouth displayed her blackened stumps.

She really exemplified the archetypal witch.

Looking down to the street below she got a friendly wave from a man below, who pointed in the direction of the oncoming traffic.

She wore her best scowl as several tour buses passed slowly by. Tour-guides pointed to her balcony and the tourists looked upwards, with startled expressions.

When the last coach had disappeared, she arose, ripped off her wig, spat out her dentures, removed her false nose and reached for the make-up removal wipes.

Smiling sweetly now, she thumbed through her well earned dollars.

Not bad for an hours work. (157 words)


This was originaly an entry to a Monday’s Finish the Story challenge but I knew I could do better. I hope you enjoy it. 

I can’t say I’ve photographed many witches and I don’t like posting featured images that I didn’t take myself. This shaky photo (it must have been the emotion), was taken abord the Hurtigruten’s MS Polarlys, during a short ceremony when we crossed the Arctic Circle.

A cheeky squirrel

There are many advantages to living in the country, and the calm coupled with an abundance of wildlife make a compelling case.

My wife and I have discovered that most of the time it’s living with and not against that is usually the order of the day.

We have moles, and when we arrived in the new house, we saw the mole hills in the fields adjacent to our garden approaching day by day until they erupted in our own garden.

At first we were affronted and even called upon the services of a specialist until we arrived at the conclusion that we will just have to live with them so we’ve stopped the fight and do our best just to accept their presence.

In the same way, the rabbits playing in the fields, and bringing up their littles ones, was a cute sight until suddenly they were in the garden chewing through the plants that my wife had painstakingly planted.

We’ve put up as much fencing as we can and planted garlic and even sprayed garlic juices everywhere, but in all honesty it hasn’t had as much of a dissuasive effect as we would have liked.

Then there are the birds, a rich variety, including tits, thrushes, blackbirds, robins, chaffinches and a pair of Greater Spotted Woodpeckers that came and ate from the birdfeeders we erected.

The wood pigeons, ravens, magpies and those flocks of hungry starlings were a challenge but when we noticed fieldmice and probably a rat we realized that all that birdseed, nuts, and insect laden grease balls, were dropping on the grass and attracting all sorts of creatures.

Oh dear!

So we’ve abandoned feeding the birds until later in the year.

We probably miss them the most. It was wonderful to see them feeding as we ate our breakfast at the breakfast bar.

But the squirrels continue to go about their business and cross the gardens during the day, stopping occasionally to wave hello.

Twittering Tales #151

Mashup of photos by pendleburyannette (dragon) & MichaelGaida (forest) at Pixabay.com

Deep in the Forest

You hadn’t thought this through.

You cooked the DNA, grew me in nourishing gel, wrapped me round this tree, and waited.

What about my escape route, you moron of a crazy geneticist?

How am I supposed to get out of this damn forest?

Then I expelled my mythical powers.

Burn baby! Burn! (278 chars)

Here is this weeks Twittering Tale!

My featured photo was taken in a village in Myanmar (Burma)

Sunday Photo Fiction – 25 August 2019

Photo Courtesy of Artur Malishkevych

Stacey interrupted the silence.

“We should have taken that glass bottom boat excursion love.”

Simon let out a deep breath.

“Maybe.”

He turned slowly and smiled.

“Jostling with other passengers to take a few hurried photos is no fun.”

She chuckled. “I suppose you’re right. At least it’s quiet here.”

“More like deserted, I’d say, which is not surprising, given the state of this excuse for a beach.”

She reached for his hand and pressed it firmly into hers.

“Look at us,” she sighed. “Dressed in our cardies, we’d be more at home in our local supermarket than here.

It was his turn to laugh and he leant over and gave his wife a lingering peck on her cheek.

“I’m happy that it’s just the two of us.”

He let his arm glide across her back and cupped her shoulder, pulling her closer.”

“It’s perfect.”

They savoured the slow passage of time.

Being alone together, was what they most desired.

When the sun approached the horizon they were back on the cruise ship, cocktail gown and black tie, hand in hand and on their way to the main dining room.

Just another day at sea. (195 words)

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Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly Flash Fiction Challenge organised by Donna.

“The challenge is to write a story based upon the photo in 200 words or less. When you are done, post your story and the photo prompt on your blog.”