Sunday Photo Fiction: looking for the light

Billy Chanting spent his entire life trying to get to Heaven, and for that, he spent most of his days in hell. You see, Billy dealt with schizophrenia for most of his adult life. He heard ‘voices’ that told him to do terrible things, and thinking it was the blessed Lord’s voice, he listened. Maybe that was the reason why he spent the last few years of his life behind bars, mostly in solitary confinement.

His rap sheet was endless; in his thirty years of life, he took so many. He murdered small children, pregnant mothers, and even a priest or two, all claiming to be upon the orders of God himself. He said that the children were spawns of the devil, and he had to rid the world of them before they grew and spread evil throughout. He claimed that the three pregnant mothers were to give birth to the anti-Christ, so he took their lives before they could do so. The priests he killed were apparently spreading blasphemy across the world.

One fateful day, when his sentence finally came to an end, Billy Chanting was set free.  When they opened the doors of the prison, Billy finally seen the light, and headed directly into its direction. “God, take me. I have lived my life doing your bidding. I am ready” he said.

Trouble was, the ‘light’ he seen wasn’t the light of God, but instead, the lights of a prison bus. He was killed instantly, with a huge smile on his face.

The story of good and evil is my entry into this week’s Sunday Photo Fiction.

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Friday Fictioneers: Taking things less serious

Copyright – Randy Mazie

Charlie was such a character. He took everything literally. Maybe it was his upbringing; when he didn’t do exactly as he was told, his cruel father punished him.

People who knew Charlie spoke differently to him. Nobody ever asked Charlie to ‘kill’ the light, as he might actually shoot it.

The same held true for the detour sign. Most people might read the sign, and then take the road around the area where the sign pointed. Not Charlie. He went straight across the lawn into the light pole. Damn near killed himself.

 

this is my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers.

Friday Fictioneers: Dan the motorman

Dan was quite the mechanic. He could fix virtually anything. Despite his teachers claiming he was a genius, he quit school in the fifth grade. He went  from the books to motors, developing his craft quickly.

In a time before Car flip television shows, Stan bought pieces of junk and built them into classics, and sold them for profits.

About the only thing Dan couldn’t do fix was his temptation for video lottery machines. These things took him over, and in no time at all, he had lost his wife, his family and even his home…and eventually he even lost his garage.

This true story is my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers.

 

100 Word Challenge: A Child’s revenge

As black as midnight, she slithered into the dark room. Without a sound, she pounced upon her prey. Claws dug deep into his neck; he didn’t see it coming, and his life was over instantly.

Some would agree that he deserved what he got. Who gave him the power to do those experiments on a small child?

Herbert Manning thought that he was a god. His cross breeding between species would eventually lead to his downfall.

Summer Holtiz, one part cat, one part snake, and a small part human, has reached her goal, to destroy the man who created her.

this spooky little ditty is my entry into this week’s 100 word Challenge. The word is ‘Claws’

 

 

Velvet Verbosity : One Saucy Cat!

That old cat was some brazen! He would stroll around the house as if he owned the place. Once, he left and visited my neighbour. Her door was open at the time, so he went inside, flipped open the door of the bird cage, and took her budgie.

When we got home, we found him perched high on the back of mom’s favourite chair, eating what was left of my neighbour’s bird. Several bits of colourful feathers covered the seat, and when he finished the pretty pet, he jumped playfully to the floor and proceeded to play with the feathers.

 

This is my entry into Velvet Verbosity’s 100 Word Challenge. The word this week is Perched. Check out the link for more stories.

P.S. for my earlier post, Beware of Jackson Falls, check out this link. I compiled all the episodes into one post.

 

giggles

Father,I have problem.
A lady goes to her priest one day and tells him, ‘Father, I have a problem.
I have two female parrots,
But they only know to say one thing.’
‘What do they say?’ the priest asked..
They say, ‘Hi, we’re hookers! Do you want to have some fun?’
‘That’s obscene!’ the priest exclaimed,
Then he thought for a moment……
‘You know,’ he said, ‘I may have a solution to your problem.
I have two male talking parrots, which I have taught to pray and read the Bible…
Bring your two parrots over to my house, and we’ll put them in the cage with Francis and Peter.
My parrots can teach your parrots to pray and worship,
And your parrots are sure to stop saying… That phrase… In no time.’
‘Thank you,’ the woman responded, ‘this may very well be the solution.’
The next day,
She brought her female parrots to the priest’s house….
As he ushered her in,
She saw that his two male parrots
were inside their cage holding rosary beads and praying…
Impressed,
She walked over and placed her parrots in with them…
After a few minutes,
The female parrots cried out in unison:
Hi, we’re hookers! Do you want to have some fun?’
There was stunned silence…
Shocked, One male parrot looked over at the other male parrot and says,

‘Put the beads away, Frank, our prayers have been answered!

 

Emergency
Wife texts husband on a cold winter’s morning;
“Windows frozen, won’t open.” Husband texts back;
“Gently pour some lukewarm water over it.”
Wife texts husband back 5 minutes later;
“The Computer screen has gone black, what do I do now.?

 

 

So, Adam’s in the Garden, and God says to him:

“Adam, I’m going to make you a deal.”

Adam says, “Oh?”

And God says, “Yes. I’m going to give you a companion, a woman. She will help you out in every way. She will support you always. She will listen, and follow your advice. She will give you comfort. She won’t ask questions. She will rub your feet and your back when you are weary, and you won’t have to rub her feet or her back. She will provide you with love, and understanding, and reverence, and approval, and veneration. Every day. And she will prepare your meals the way you like them, on time and hot. And she will clean all your houses and all your laundry, and she won’t complain. She will obtain happiness by making you happy, for all of your days . . .

“BUT,” said God, “it will cost you an arm and a leg. What say you, Adam?”

Adam said, “An arm and a leg?”

And God said, “Yes.”

And Adam paused. He considered. He stared into the beauty of the Garden and reflected, and thought, and thought some more. Finally, Adam said:

“God? What can I get for a rib?” ”

 

and just when you thought things couldn’t get any drier…

A local gangster wants to have his ex-wife killed. He settles on a contract to have it done with his beat friend- Artie “The enforcer.”

Artie agrees to do it for his friend for One Dollar.

Artie follows the woman into the local supermarket. Quickly he follows her over to the produce area. she is alone. He chokes her quickly. As he finishes he looks up and sees an old lady watching.

Not wanting a witness, he chokes the old lady also.

Artie is apprehended in the parking lot on a tip and confesses the whole deal

The local newspaper runs a headline the next day.

“ARTIE CHOKES TWO FOR A DOLLAR AT FOOD TOWN”

Friday Fictioneers: Respect for the past

“You want my land to build your city?” he asked.

“We need it, and we are prepared to meet whatever demands you make!” the developer added. Most of the land has already been purchased and the equipment will be moving in soon to start the job.

“I only have one demand, other than the big chunk of money you will give me.” the old geezer said.

“We are already paying you far more than the property is worth, what else could you possibly want?

“The trees. They have to remain as they are, no cutting my trees!” he said.

“Done!”

This is my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers. The picture says it all…

PHOTO PROMPT -Copyright-Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

 

Rememberance Day Salute to a Hero: Anthony Luedy

Pte. Anthony Luedy was my grandmother’s younger brother. In 1941, Anthony left the small coal mining town of New Waterford, NS with dreams of fighting for his country. He, like so many more, would never return to the quaint little town where his loved ones lived.

During his time overseas, Anthony sent many personal letters to my grandmother. The letters spoke of the amazing things he seen in this very different world. At just 19 years old, I would imagine Anthony seen things that he could have only imagined; and some things that he truly regretted seeing.

Anthony had a very close friend. He mentioned him in all his letters home. The two, who were both very young and very naive, worked together to get through basic training, each standing up for the other. They were both shipped overseas at the same time, and even shared a tent once in a while. Back then, true friendship sometimes meant living or dying. It probably helped with the loneliness and fear as well.

The alarming thing about this story is not the bravery that both young men showed on the battle field. It is not about the sacrifices they both made either. The thing about this story is how tragically both young men died.

Just after Christmas, January 14, 1945 to be exact, Anthony and his friend returned to their tent soon after several days on the battlefield in a country so far away from where they came. During one of their nightly conversations, while cleaning their guns and preparing for the next battle, Anthony’s one true friend mistakenly forgot a shell in the chamber of his gun. While attempting to clean the gun, it misfired, killing Anthony instantly.

Nobody could blame this on the young man, but that did not take away the guilt that he felt. Seeing his compadre’ lying on the floor next to him, he couldn’t take it. All the battles they fought, side by side, each watching the others back, and now Anthony was dead, by the hand of his friend.

The next morning, as if nothing had ever happened, Anthony’s friend, along with the rest of the troop, were commissioned to do battle once again. As the story goes, Peter (not his real name, his name was lost with the rest of Anthony’s letters) walked out on the battlefield unarmed. He lasted approximately five seconds before being mowed down by enemy gunfire. Apparently he could not live with the mistake he had made the night before, and for that, he gave his life for his friend.

The newspapers did not report the fact that a young soldier lost his life in friendly fire. Nor did they mention that Peter committed suicide on the battlefield. Instead, it was reported that two young men, both 23 years of age, lost their lives while protecting the democracy and freedom that we all take for granted.

For that, I salute Pte. Anthony Luedy. Hero.

Friday Fictioneers: The makeshift plow

PHOTO PROMPT – Copyright – Jean L. Hays

 

First let me explain something. Here in Newfoundland, we are different; but in an honest, innocent way.

While passing through a small west coast community on a snowy morning, we passed people out shoveling, scooping, and even blowing snow…and then there was this guy.

There it was, a home made snow plow. Using a sheet of plywood and a few 2×4’s, the guy had fabricated his own snow plow, and nailed it to the bumper of his car.

We had to see this. I pulled my truck to the side of the road and laughed as the plywood plow burst into splinters.

This true story is my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers.