Sunday Photo Fiction – The Trucker

The truck stood waiting. His tricked out, shiny and sleek, big rig, 18 wheeler. The engine had been idling and now was warmed up and ready for him to go on his midnight run to the city and then out into the far lying reaches of numerous small towns, delivering goods that wouldn’t be delivered if it wasn’t for him and his mighty truck …

By wallyir3

… In the harsh light of reality’s morning sun, he rolled out of bed. After several cups of coffee and a quick breakfast he was on his way. Not in the 18-wheeler, but in a much more modest truck, picking up trash people left by the curbside each day.

Throughout the early morning hours he filled the back of his truck with the multitude of various unwanted things, finding (as usual) he couldn’t wait to return home so he could  rummage through the discarded items. His price for removing the trash.

58 05 May 4th 2014

Photograph by Alastair Forbes

Amazing that one person’s trash is another person’s treasure. Inconceivable how many quality items he found and resold, adding to his “dream truck” kitty.

One day … one day he vowed, he’d have enough money to buy the truck of his dreams. To be a real trucker,  to pick up and deliver cargo or “goods”. Being on the road – for real. Living the dream.

Until then he’d depend on his trusty little truck to get the job done. He was a trucker after all, even if for now – it was only in spirit.

But one day …

~

This is my entry for Sunday Photo Fiction. For more info. click here. Lots of great short fiction stories to check out or enter yourself. Lots of fun for everyone at Alastair’s Sunday Photo Fiction.

Have a great week ahead, keep working towards your dreams. Dreams do come true.

~ Penny

 

 

Alastairs Photo Fiction – Simple is and simple does!

Each Sunday my good friend Alastair offers up one of his excellent photographs as a prompt for writing a short fictional piece. Be sure to check out this fun activity, click here for more information.

29-10-october-13th-2013

Photo Credit: Copyright © Alastair Forbes, 2013

Simple is as Simple does.

“I just want to leave, daddy!” the little girl said. “I’m not having any fun!”

“But honey, you’ve hardly ridden any of the rides.” The dad was concerned to see the unhappy look on his daughter’s face. He had been so sure, when he picked her up at her mother’s house for his “weekend time”, that she’d love to go to the carnival. Didn’t kids like these things any more?

“I don’t care. I just want to leave and go some other place. It’s noisy and all the rides are scary with people screaming. They’re rude and they keep bumping into us on the ground.” His daughter’s small hand held tightly onto his while tugging him in the direction of the exit.

“Well, wait a minute,” Her dad tried again. “Let’s go by the food stands, they have yummy treats to eat there. That’s always fun at carnivals.” He patted his substantial stomach while deciding there was always room for one more corn dog!

“No daddy, my tummy still hurts from the last ride and we can buy treats everywhere. I just want to go.”

The dad looked and felt very frustrated as they slowly maneuvered their way through the noisy throng of indifferent people who, now that he noticed it, all seemed to be running around in hyper mode; looking for the next great thrilling ride, or fat engorged snack or cheap plastic prize to be awarded for winning a “fixed” game.

When they reached the exit the dad turned to his daughter and impatiently asked “So where do you want to go?”

The little girl answered quietly. “Could we go to the park, just the two of us, walk around, feed the squirrels and maybe you could push me on the swing. Doesn’t that sound like fun, Daddy?”

*******

Is there a loss of pleasure in “simple things” today? Are we perhaps so inundated with the never ending media of thriller type videos, movies, TV shows, books and of course real life activities, it has become difficult to go to a simple and happier place!

Alastairs Photo Fiction – Invincible!

A new photo prompt from Alastair. A challenge to write a flash fiction, a few hundred words. For information on how to join in the writing fun click here!

19-08-august-4th-2013

Photograph copyright Alastair Forbes, 2013

~

Sitting in the cockpit of his fighter aircraft, George was twitchy. This, the seventh night in a row. Designated one of the “intruders” each night he’d patrol the German airfields in France from his Hawker Hurricane attempting to catch night bombers during takeoffs or landings.

Henry should have been up here with him, flying nearby. He was gone, shot down in action. A life long friend, gone. But he wasn’t going to think about that. He could see the illuminating lights from the German airfield.

His focus tonight, centered there. He tried not to think about the enemy below. Tried to control the sweat coming out over his body, running down his back, his ribs. He hadn’t been afraid before, though there were the cannon shell holes, evident in the wood and fabric covering of his fighter aircraft from previous engagements; it had never bothered him. They had been invincible.

He and Henry, the invincible duo. It had become a joke with their friends, they did everything together, took risks for the fun of it and then the war and they joined the RAF (Royal Air Force) together, of course. Not for the fun of it. No this was different.

 A fight for their freedom. And they had not only put together a good team, but after each squadron’s successful run, each air victory, their fellow Fighters would cheer their return. Not tonight. Tonight the squadron was one less, without his comrade at arms, his buddy, his life long friend.

Circling above, he continued to watch the glowing lights from the lit airfield beneath him. He had never felt so empty, so alone … so afraid.

~

War sucks … all wars!

~ Thanks for stopping by,
Penny

penny

Alastair’s Photo Fiction – The Wave of the Future

A new photo from Alastair – a new photo prompt for Alastairs Photo Fiction. Write a short story or poem that his photo inspires you to write. The more creative, the better. approximately 150 words in length. Have fun! For more info, click on his link!

18-07-july-28th-2013~

“I’m just so excited! Aren’t you honey?” The couple stared out at the monster crane lifting the contents over the place in the middle of the river.

“I don’t know, are you sure the river is deep enough?” She looked worried.

“Oh yeah, yeah, they did all the underwater survey stuff, and it’s plenty deep enough! The whole city decided this was the wave of the future, the way to go.”

“We’re the first aren’t we?” She asked him.

“Yes we won the lottery, and there will be a lot more to follow. But we’re the first!”

“Aren’t you even a little bit scared?” She asked.

“Of what? They have it all figured out. I think it’s a great idea. It will just take a little bit of time to get used to. And it’s very cost effective, a work in progress!”

“I suppose …” She said, hesitantly. “When will it be ready? Did they say?”

His smile was huge as he held her close and they watched the crane lowering the last section of the water proof building into the river. “Our home will be ready to move into tomorrow!”

“Cool, sweetie, I was wondering how we get down to our new home, you haven’t mentioned that to me yet? ……… Honey?”

~

Click on the link collection to read more stories prompted by Alastair’s photo!

Hope you enjoyed and that your weekend has started off well for you,

~ Penny

penny

Alastairs Photo Fiction – The Tunnel and Survival!

17-07-july-21st-2013

Photograph by Alastair Forbes, Copyright 2013

The Tunnel

Sitting in the middle of  a man-made subterranean tunnel I look in both directions, no end in sight. I rewrap my wrist, still bleeding. My extrasensory abilities hear them coming, they’re probably 5,ooo meters away (roughly 3 miles). Do I escape or confront? Always about choices. They mustn’t be allowed to take me!

No time for contemplation, and yet still – why me? Why my lot in life to be genetically different from everyone else? How did they discover my difference andby Stokkete began looking for me. Luckily, someone else had known years ago. She had prepared me for this day … should it come.

Am I ready? Equipped for the fight of my life? I’m prepared but I’m scared too. Timing is everything, just as she isolates the genetic coding of my DNA – she makes a startling discovery … and vanishes! And now They are after me. I don’t know if she’s dead or live, and I don’t know who to trust. And now I have her secret too. 

Alone in a tunnel, with all the major players in the world wanting what my body contains, the next leap in human evolution – a new genetic pattern greatly expanding capabilities and longevity but even that isn’t the real discovery. The one she had just discovered, dangerous knowledge that now, only I know about!

What will I do?

~

My entry for Alastairs Photo Fiction. To be part of this very fun writing challenge (which I encourage you to do) click here!

Thanks for stopping by,

Penny

download (1)

Alastairs Photo Fiction – The Princess and The Maid

When I saw Alastair’s photograph of a castle, I thought of all the fairytales I had read as a child. (many) and knew I would be writing a fairytale. This is a short story, not a flash fiction and it far exceeds the 150 word limit of this writing challenge.

His photograph this week was excellent inspiration for me and I encourage you to join in the fun of Alastair’s Photo Fiction writing challenge! Click here.

To read a brand new fairy tale read on:

16-07-july-14th-2013

The Princess and The Maid – A Fairytale

She was spoiled. It was well known in the kingdom. Since her birth the King and Queen had given her everything so she always got her way. As a result she grew up with complete disdain for just about everyone and everything; except for one person, the scullery maid. The lowest servant in the castle, Gwen was a sweet gentle girl who was always rescuing small animals and was kind to all.

From the time she was old enough to talk, Princess Catherine was pampered and surrounded by adults. They were everywhere. The only time she was allowed to be just a little girl began the day Gwen (only a few years older) felt sorry for her and snuck her into a hidden room, accidently discovered in a remote part of the castle.

ateliersommerland

Gwen the servant, playing a fairy

From then on the Princess and Gwen would sneak off whenever they could to giggle and play, pretending to be beautiful woodland fairies before going back to their respective positions in life. One very high and formal, the other a lowly servant. They grew to love one another as sisters. In their own secret world.

Princess Catherine playing as a fairy

They continued to meet as young adult ladies, although not as frequently. When Gwen would comment on the rude behavior of Catherine to others, Catherine dismissed her words saying, “they aren’t worthy of my bother!”

Gwen would insist that everyone had value and worth and then go about her business. Her words, as usual, ignored by the haughty Princess Catherine. This might have gone on forever, her selfish, spoiled behavior. Except that one day she noticed Gwen had been missing for awhile.

She asked her personal maid where Gwen was and was told she was very ill and would probably not survive. The princess rushed through the castle upsetting all until a carriage was arranged and the princess transported to a tiny little hovel at the end of the village, where the only true friend she had every had, the maid Gwen, lived.

The cottage, no more than a hovel, was sparsely furnished. In one corner, a bed where her friend lay, barely breathing. Upon seeing her friend, she hurried over, tears in her eyes. The princess knelt by the bedside, grasping Gwen’s frail and fragile hand. Gwen slowly opened her weary eyes and when she saw the princess she smiled. “You came, your highness” She said very faintly.

The princess knew the maid did not have long to live and in a sudden moment of realization she finally understood what her friend had been telling her for all the years of their friendship. “Oh Gwen you mustn’t die, you are too good to die. I should die instead, I am selfish and unworthy of life but you are so pure and good.” She sobbed not caring if her royal face was stained and puffy with tears.

Gwen coughed, her voice a soft whisper as she spoke her last gentle words to her noble friend. “Then you shall live for me, and you will be as good as you can be to all those you meet. And I shall live on, through you my friend. Promise me you will do this. And we will be sisters forever joined through the bonds of love.

On the day Princess Catherine made the  promise to her dying friend, she changed and become the model of a loving caring individual. She went on to rule as Queen, and not for a single second, of a single day, did she ever forget her promise. The noble Queen had learned to become humble, with the death of her only friend. From that time on, she ruled with love and cared for all.

The End

~

Today we need fairytales more than ever. Fantasy for certain, but an engaging way to learn and remember a few of life’s, sometimes, harder lessons. I hope you enjoyed. Have a wonderful week!

~ Penny

penny l howe

Alastairs Photo Fiction – If Idols could cry

photography copyright Alastair Forbes

The Idol

Lovingly carved by my human creator, I stand posed in quiet contemplation on a shelf, in a room, in a house. My permanently, etched eyes “wide open” watching life take place around me.

Removed from my birth home, from where my body originated, I am far from the natural elements of nature’s flow, and yet it still survives within me. So it is now, with great sadness, that I silent and helplessly watch the hardships humanity lay upon themselves; confronting each other and their own selves, but without the nourishing rhythm and balance of nature – that they now willfully deny, much as wayward children not wanting to learn life’s important lessons.

I watch as they try and fail to come to terms with their errors of judgement, losing their precious connections to one another and to mother nature herself, even as they (with sometimes innocent intent) tear down the very infrastructure that lead to their existence and survival as a species.

I can see so very clearly and there is a great sadness within me as I sit on this shelf in solitary confinement. If I could, I would cry. But my tears would not be seen, either.

Penny L Howe, 2013

~

Yes definitely way over the 150 word limit, But I am hopeful this short written piece is still one you will find an interesting read. To join Alastair’s Photo Fiction writing challenge, (who’s weekly prompt is one of his wonderful photographs), click here! Go for it – you’ll have fun!

~ Penny

Snapshot_20130707_19 (2)