Friday Fictioneer: Tune

This challenge is hosted by Rochelle. You can view the other entries here.

Tune

By the old, curtains of the abandoned mansion, the two boy cousins could see the flaming rays of the dying sun kissing the summer mist.

The older boy, smarter and colder of the two, and a former bully, whispered coldly, “Still enemies but, gon’ work together, ‘kay?”

The younger one, timid and bullied, didn’t reply.

 Instead, a soft piano tune played.

“Ain’t …” the older trailed off as his eyes went to the clock. Running backward.

Again the tune. Soft and haunting.

This time, the older gasped at the other, horrified. Whenever the younger talked only a soft tune played.

Snatched Away from Home

Thank you so much, Rochelle, for your Friday Fictioneers!

Photo Credits: Sandra Cook

Snatched Away From Town

The train rushed out of the station, dragging me with it. Hands tied, mouth gagged and eyes burning with tears too stubborn to fall.

Outside of the old window, I see my hometown blurring away. The station where I sold newspapers, the roads where I begged and… the cluster of stones where I had awakened the curse.

Another lashing hit my arm.

“How did you do that, scoundrel?”

Master shouted. I kept mum.

Another lash of whip.

 “When will that creature come alive, you urchin?”

I faintly smiled for I was the answer. A creature snatched from his homeland.

What Pegman Saw: Leafing through the memories

Thank you so much, K Rawson, for your brilliant Pegman’s Challenge! And thank you for choosing Loxton too 🙂

Just outa town, Loxton, Australia | Lee Merchant, Google Maps

Leafing through the memories

For others, Murray was just a river and those odd tracks lining up the shores were just signs of drunkards messing about.

But for me, it had a much, much greater significance. It’s a gesture that Gakal had not forgotten me yet.

Every time I see those large clumps of seaweed, I remember him. Everytime I see those marks slapped by the the tails, I remember him. Oh, Gakal why did you have to go?

They said, “He’s gone for good!”

 They said “He’s a monster!”

But to me, he was a savior. Yes, he looked ugly but he had saved my life more than once and on his back, I had travelled all around river Murray, and I have leaped back and forth time.

He shouldn’t have gone.

They said, they have killed him.

I don’t believe it. Dear Gakal, when will you return?


Notes:

  • Gakal is an aboriginal Australian word meaning “skill”
  • The character of this story, Gakal, is a Muldjewangk, an aboriginal mythical creature.
  • The main character is Alex, yes, the one about whom I wrote in last week’s challenge 🙂

A Curse That Became a Blessing

Thank you so much, Rochelle, for this challenge of Friday Fictioneers

PHOTO FROM ROGER BULTOT

A curse that became a blessing

Millenniums ago, I had been cursed to become a statue. And now I think, it’s a blessing.

They had taken parts of my hands, they had forever closed my eyes.

It’s a blessing, I say again. At least I don’t have to see my mother Earth dying. At least I don’t have to see some of my brothers die out of hunger and others feasting on fries. At least, I don’t have to see the pain and disgraceful state of the world which, once was such a gracious place.

A Shady Inn

Long John’s Showbar, Great Yarmouth, UK

Thank you, K Rawson, for hosting What Pegman Saw ( https://whatpegmansaw.com/2019/07/13/great-yarmouth-uk/ )

It felt great, as always!

A Shady Inn

Luckily, when we entered the dimly-lit inn, it was almost deserted. Just a half-asleep worker behind the counter.

“Good!” said Nathan in a hushed whisper, “So what’s the next plan?”

“Just act as if we are mere tourists,” I said.

“Good inn, mate!” said Nathan to the man in the counter, “Old fashioned, huh?”

The man mumbled something and then asked in a hoarse voice, “What ye want?”  

That was rude, I know but there wasn’t time to complain.

“Bacon, “ I began but was interrupted by a strong tug in the shoulder.

“Look over there, Al,” Nathan pointed to a stranger sitting at the farthest corner, holding a glass with his slender fair fingers.

His long hair was tied in a ponytail and a dark cape hit his shoulder. He was prince, it seemed, pursuing or escaping a dark secret.

Good, then there are darker men than us.

Discoveries Underneath

Thank you Rochelle for creating this exciting challenge of Friday Fictioneers!

hydro-dale
Only for Friday Fictioneers. Photo credits: Dale Rogerson

Discoveries Underneath

When I saw it for the first time, I thought it was some sort of stupid building made for show. But it was during a windy summer day when I finally discovered the secrets beneath it.

It was there, in the middle of a uncannily deserted road, burning up in the sun. I was messing up with it, trying to find the “mysteries” behind it. It was then I had found out the swirling stairs hidden beneath this structure leading to the place of highly technological place of giants. And guess what? They had giant phones and came over here at midnight to charge them!

Post Script:

I am really sorry for this stupid little tale. It’s actually a part of a larger series called “Discoveries of Jos, Far and Wide” I’m so gloomy that can’t really use my words well. Thanks for reading!

Secret Behind A Timepiece

#fotoflash

Welcome to the Friday Foto Flash Fiction Challenge! Each Friday  Donna B McNicol posts a new picture to be used as inspiration for your flash fiction written in 500 words or less. Be sure to include the photo, the source credit, and a link to this post with your story. Entries will close on Thursday at midnight Central Time. 

Once your post is live, add your link to the list below. I hope you will visit the other entries (and check back often for new stories). Remember to leave them a comment in appreciation. Thank you and enjoy! Here’s your photo prompt.

Photo Source: https://morguefile.com/p/984414

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

Secret Behind A Timepiece

Both of us stopped at the dead-end of the road.

“Who’s put up this stupid sign here, eh?” asked Joe.

“End of Century, huh?” I read the odd sign post, “Maybe there’s a time machine behind.”

“You and your stupid sci-fi stuff!” said Joe putting his hands on his hips, “Perhaps a geek like you has set this up!”

“Whatever,” I said, “It’s silly and odd.”

“Geez! Just the thing you’re expecting after a long afternoon walk! Curse that man who has put this up!” Joe spat on the ground and checked his watch, “Goodness! It’s already 4 pm and the movie starts at 6! Now where do we go, eh? Jos? A guess?”

“It’s just 3:46 pm. Your watch’s fast.”

“Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Both of you are wrong! It’s 15 hours 46 minutes and 32 seconds now!”

It was a high, wavering shrill voice, much like hitting hammer in a metal can. It came from the signpost.

I and Joe exchanged a glance.

“Somebody has fit some kind of recorder here,” I said, “Maybe a prankster like you, Joe.”

“You really think so?” he said, sounding impressed. “Let’s check it out!”

He grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the backside of the sign post. It was all very ordinary… except a clock sitting right on top with googly eyes.

“What’s that? A silly clock” I asked.

“Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!” it started but Joe interrupted.

“You are wrong, Mr. Clock! It should be dong, dong, dong!”

“I am not a clock!” said the clock (or so I think it is), “I am a great marvellous Time-Porter from the 22nd century.”

I let out a small chuckle and said to Joe, “A neat hologram with a perfect sound recorder. Nice work, I say.”

“Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!” It shouted again, sounding seemingly angry. “I’ll show you what I can do!”

For a few seconds, there was an eerie, uncanny silence. And then came the ticking of clocks, growing louder and louder every passing moment.

Suddenly came a noise of the blast of glass. Joe’s and my watches had broken. The whole sky echoed of ticking, as if it were thunder. It was all deafeningly loud. We closed our eyes and pressed our ears as hard as we could.

“STOP IT!” Joe yelled at last.

And somebody or something who was in charge of all this drama heard it. All the noises came to an end.

I dropped on my knees… and slowly opened my eyes.

“What… was this?” I stammered, though I doubt anybody would have heard that. Shock had taken my voice away.

In front of me were odd metallic dome shaped buildings with buzzing drones in the air. Not a tree, not a breath of life. Just metal and metal everywhere.

“I’ve moved forward in time,” said the Time-Porter, “We have to the end of the century.”

(482 words)

Changes Left Unchanged

  Thank you, Karen and Josh for the What Pegman Saw challenge. Thank you for taking us to a different part of the world every time!  This week we’re there in Cardenas, Cuba.

Cuba | Iván Calás. Google Maps

Changes Left Unchanged

For most people, Stone Castle was just a stone castle as the name suggested.

But for me, it was more reverend than Jerusalem itself.

It had been almost nine decades since I’ve been staying there. I’ve seen the seas change, the trees change, the houses growing and the animals going.

I’ve seen myself change with time too. My youthful face is now scared and lined and my back is now hunched and my silver beard sweeps the ground.

But one thing has remained unchanged, untouched and unshaken. The hole on the wall from where the pirates once passed and from where the great reverend dragons, my ancestors came to light up this castle.

A Drink For Surprises

Thank you, Donna B McNicol for hosting the Friday Foto Challenge. The picture is courtesy of Wendy G.

Courtesy of Wendy G.

A Drink For Surprises

I stared at the flashing sign with shock.

“Hey, Jase, close your mouth, if you don’t want to have a dish of mosquitoes.” Said Ben.

“What’s with the sign there?” I asked, trying to eat my chicken pie.

Ben followed my gaze towards the bright, flashy sign, saying “Eat More Beer”

Ben took a bite and said casually, “They don’t bother about grammar here, my nerdy boy. It’d be ‘drink more beer’, we all know that.”

“Not that,” I said, “Isn’t it totally unbelievable? To see a sign claiming eat more beer in a restaurant named ‘Teetotaller monkey’?”

“Calm down, boy! I get your point.” Ben patted on my back. “Let’s check out the mystery.”

I called the waiter and ordered a drink.

Five minutes later, the waiter arrived with a glass of fizzy drink, oddly pink in colour.

It smelled quite odd too, like a strawberry fondue.

I raised my eyebrows and cautiously watched Ben take a sip of that drink… But what I saw made me more shocked than ever.

Odd scars and patterns grew all around Ben’s faces and tattooed arms.

“Benjamin!” I cried, but strangely no fellow diner, not even the one sitting next table turned at us.

Ben didn’t seem to hear me either. He resumed to drink as if the whole world had paused.

“There’s something in the drink, I say!” I shouted, shaking Ben by his arms, “Ben?! Do you hear me?!”

Caught in a frenzy, I grabbed the drink and gulped it down.

“What a fool am I!” I thought to myself as my vision became blurry.

Slowly as if fogged by a pinkish mist, my eyes dragged and closed and as if… I drifted off to a distant place.

“Jason?! Jason!”

“Uhh?” I struggled to force my eyes open. “W-Where am I?”

I looked around cautiously around myself. There was nothing I could remember. Everywhere where strange pinkish octopus like folks.

“Is this some kind of sci-fi movie set? Where is Ben? Ben?” I cried, nervousness leaking in my voice.

“Calm down, Jason, I’m right here beside you.” Said a voice that I instantly recognized.

I turned towards it and what a shock did I get! There a tall, thick octopus-like creature wearing the same shirt like Ben.

“Is that really…you?” I stammered, my voice a barely audible croak.

The creature nodded and said, “Look at yourself, Jase.”
Fearfully, I turned my gaze towards the glass table… And met the horror I had been fearing.

I had turned into such a creature too. A monster like the rest of them.

“Look at the sign,” said Ben, “The beer they asked you to drink was a potion that turns you into one of them. We’ve already fallen in the trap, Jason. So dear, let’s eat more beer!”

The Last Show

Thank you, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, for opening such a great contest @ Friday Fictioneers for this photo prompt.

Image © Ted Strutz. Used with permission for this Friday Fictioneers challenge only. Any other use of this image requires Ted Strutz’s permission

The Last Show

On a long summer day, I had gone to a long-forgotten alley, in a much-remembered building. Phoenix Theatre.

It wasn’t a place where people went just to entertain themselves. No, it was much more.

It was a monument. A reverend, venerable monument. A legacy of past. Immortal, like its name suggests. And magical.

Inside the hall, curtains were drawn. Lights were off. The movie started… And all the scenes came alive.

I just gasped with shock, a pleasant shock. Until, one movie character came and dragged me inside the screen. Like it did, to every watcher.

(99 words)