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Posts Tagged ‘Sunday Photo Fiction’


Rig - Photo by Alastair Forbes

Rig – Photo by Alastair Forbes

Upon looking at the big rig, the front part of a semi-truck, which is to be the subject of this week’s Sunday Photo Fiction challenge, thoughts brewed through Barb’s mind. “How does this photo inspire me?” A series of questions came to mind.

Why do they call them semi-trucks?

What do they deliver in semi-trucks? Occasional furniture.

What do they call occasional furniture the rest of the time?

Why do we call it a hamburger when it is made of beef?

Can you imagine getting sick at the airport and having the terminal Dr. treat you?

If cannibals ate clowns, would they taste funny?

Aren’t all babies new?

Why do Dr.’s practice medicine?

Looking again at the rig, I realize that for today, this is as good as it gets.

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Thank you Al for the photo and for hosting Sunday Photo Fiction. And to you dear reader, I thank you for stopping by today. Be well…. ^..^

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Inside - Photo by Alastair Forbes

Inside – Photo by Alastair Forbes

All it took was a quick stumble. The toe of the left shoe caught on a small piece of uplifted stone. He landed flat on his face. Rolling over, he checked out his ankles and knees. He saw no major cuts or scrapes.

Now what was it that his shoe caught on? There it is. He moved over towards it and noticed that the stone now had a series of spalls. Taking out a wide paintbrush, he started to clear the area. More and more of the pieces splintered away.

He knew he had discovered something significant. He received government funding to continue the project, was able to hire a team to do the archeology, and secure for him a nice place to stay.

While clearing one of the many painted walls, he found himself caught up in the scene that was emerging in front of him. Looking closely it began to move. “How can that be?” he thought.

In a rush and a whirl, Alastair Forbes found himself in the painting, and could hear the echoes of the curse as he and the art became one.

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A huge thanks to Al for the inspiring photo, hosting the challenge, and for taking part in my bit of flash for the Sunday Photo Fiction.

Have an amazing Sunday and be well…. ^..^

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It has been a while since I have written for the Sunday Photo Fiction, and I am ready to start getting back into the swing of things. Here is the photo prompt for this week and my story entitled “Time.”

Watch - Photo by Alastair Forbes

Watch – Photo by Alastair Forbes

As soon as he finished whispering into the watch, he looked up and noticed that the world shifted. The air in the park smelled fresher, and the walkways were free of litter. No sounds of the 21st century existed here. Women adorned in long Victorian dress held onto the arms of men properly attired in suits. They strolled arm in arm. Jeremy looked down at what he was wearing and was happy to discover that he blended in.

He was giddy with joy because his invention worked. He did need to keep it concealed because no one in the 1870’s wore anything of its kind. With the camera hidden in the upper pocket of his waistcoat and the wire hanging down to his side, he snapped off photos.

Jeremy noticed a younger man watching him. Turning quickly he walked the other way and looking back he realized that the man was following him. He ducked into a courtyard of one of the many buildings and hid. Taking a deep breath, he pulled up the sleeve on the jacket and began whispering into the watch.

It was then the man grabbed his wrist.  And, they both fell into the future.

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Thank you to Alastair Forbes for hosting this delightful challenge, and to you too dear reader for taking the time to stop on by! Have an amazing week and be well… ^..^

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Egyptian Trinket Box - Photo by Alastair Forbes

Egyptian Trinket Box – Photo by Alastair Forbes

Vivian saw the Egyptian trinket box at her favorite new age store. The box spoke to her. She just had to buy it. When she got it home, she set it in amongst her other new age items. She placed it so the moon and the stars faced out into the room.

Before going to bed that night, she placed her hands around the pyramid shaped box, closed her eyes, took a couple of deep breaths and said a prayer. When she was done, she crawled into bed, and drifted off to sleep.

The room was dark and the only sound was her slow and steady breathing. Suddenly, the box began to vibrate. It shifted a bit, and the two sections began to separate. A light began to emanate between the three pieces. As the glow got brighter, the room became illuminated. The color of the light began to shift.

Vivian woke up surprised by the light in the room. Finding that the source was her new trinket box, she got out of bed and walked over to it. She bent over to look at it closely. Musical notes floated out of it and she found herself being swept away.

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Thank you Alastair Forbes for hosting Sunday Photo Fiction, and for the photo that inspired this story. Nice one Al!

Thank you dear reader for stopping by today. Have a spectacular Sunday, and be well… ^..^

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Cast in Stone - Photo by Alastair Forbes

Cast in Stone – Photo by Alastair Forbes

Staring at the statue, I notice the fellow is looking skyward. He is wearing a heavy jacket and is holding a hat. He sits on a disk. Few know why there is the disk.

It was back in 1940, and a war was raging. The vantage point where the statue sits is where the country defended itself against invasion. After days of battle, reinforcements arrived. Odd reinforcements. They were short people, with gray skin, huge heads, and black lidless eyes. The troops stopped to look at the beings that were weaving their way through them.

The greys moved into position. Looking around at the men, they seemed to be communicating with them. The men heard the word, “Sit.” So sit they did. The greys moved to the edge of the cliffs looking down at the opposing force.

One of the greys seemed to be in charge. He raised his left arm, six fingers spread. In unison, all the greys did the same and then pointed at the enemy. The opposing force was disabled. The greys then moved to the spot where the statue now stands, then disappeared.

You see, the statue sits where once there was an alien transporter.

Battle of Britian Memorial Statue - Photo by Detraymond

Battle of Britian Memorial Statue – Photo by Detraymond

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This story was written for the Sunday Photo Fiction challenge hosted by Alastair Forbes. Great photo Al!

Sunday Photo Fiction

Sunday Photo Fiction

I hope that you enjoyed my bit of flash today, and I thank you for taking the time to stop by! Be well… ^..^

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Henry's New Throne - Photo by Alastair Forbes

Henry’s New Throne – Photo by Alastair Forbes

This is a story of a king and his throne, and one seldom heard of.

Gertrude is a fine seamstress. She is known to have the swiftest needle in the entire kingdom. You just did not want to piss her off by complaining about anything she made, only because she had a funny way of getting back at you.

Her husband, Rolf, is a fine carpenter. He lovingly worked as quickly as he could to create a new throne after the last one broke. Together with his wife, they crafted a very handsome piece. The following day was to be the unveiling and they hoped it would pass muster.

They stood at the very back of the room as the king swept in. Walking tall and proud he made his way to the throne. Stepping up on the dais, he turned and planted himself on the seat. He held onto the arms tightly as he tested it out. Smiling, he waved Gertrude to the front of the room.

She approached the king. Whispering in her ear, she looked at him in shock. Raising the royal tookis, Gertrude inspected the area, and apologetically pulled the needle from Henry’s backside. Rolf smiled.

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Sunday Photo Fiction

Sunday Photo Fiction

A huge thanks goes out to Alastair Forbes for hosting Sunday Photo Fiction, and for the amazing photo that inspired this story.

Thank you dear reader for stopping by and be well! ^..^

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The Waterfront - Photo by Alastair Forbes

The Waterfront – Photo by Alastair Forbes

We head out from The Waterfront on the Sea Witch. We are going to be fishing for rock cod. I love rock cod. I head into the cabin of the boat and settle myself in for the hour and a half ride it will take for us to arrive at the fishing grounds. There are fifteen anglers and I am the only woman on board.

As we head to our destination, I sip on my coffee and read “Orion’s Gift.” The men have cracked open their beer and their voices are getting louder, a clear sign that the alcohol is taking effect. I hear a couple of the men laughing about me being on the boat. I smile to myself thinking, “We shall see boys.”

We finally arrive at the fishing grounds. I put away my coffee and book, and head over to my rod. I am using shrimp hooks. I release the line letting weight of the sinkers take my hooks down to the bottom. I know that I am there as my line slackens. I pull my line up a tad and wait.

I feel the hit of the fish. “Fish on!” I shout. Pulling them up the 250 feet, I have two lings. After one hour, I have hit the limit of what I can take. The men are scowling. Each has maybe one or two in their bags.  “Now who said that a woman cannot possibly be good at fishing? Eh, boys?”

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I am a bit over the word limit, but in order to tell my story, it was necessary.  I hope that you enjoyed this fish tale.

Thank you Alastair Forbes for hosting Sunday Photo Fiction, and for the photo that inspired my story. And, thanks to you dear reader, for stopping by today to read my bit of flash! Have one heck of an amazing Sunday, and be well… ^..^

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