Wednesday, 18 January 2017


This week's prompt is a photo and eight random words crafting a story 500 words max.

If you want to join in the fun please go to Inner Sunshine

pottery     lunatic     hour     arms     tar     barrel     bread     crown


It should have been such a great day but now here I was striding along this road, the heat of the day making the tar on the road stick to my shoes.  These high heels would be the death of me yet, they were pulling on my feet but there was no way I could take them off and walk on this rough road with more miles of countryside to go.  It will take me at least another hour to get home.

It all started last week when my lunatic best friend, Angela, decided to throw me a party in honour of me opening my first exhibition in a few weeks’ time.  I’d been so busy getting everything ready, making sure all my pottery pieces were exactly right, the firing had gone well, the glazing wasn’t crazed and all the hand-painted artwork was going really well.
Then Angela turned up on my doorstep Friday night and gaily informed me she was taking me to her house where a few friends would gather to honour my success as an artist. 

I tried all the tricks in the book not to go but she had me over a barrel.  I’d arranged a similar surprise event for her a few years ago and she’d waited this long to get her revenge on me, well that’s what it felt like.

‘Come on, Natalie, you know you’ll enjoy it when you get there.’  Angela’s pleading face was enough, so despite all my protestations and foreboding about the event I agreed to go. 

Angela picked me up and we drove to her house in the country, the next thing I knew she’d invited all of our friends and it seems their friends as well.  The house was bursting at the seams and then he walked in.  I hadn’t seen Nigel for a year so I was so surprised when my heart started to thump with excitement and my tummy had butterflies in it. 

Nigel wrapped me in his arms, ‘God I’ve missed you Natalie!’

I just snapped.  I picked up the first thing that I could grab, luckily I was standing by the buffet table and a loaf of bread, as yet uncut, smashed it across the crown of his head.

His swearing and cussing could be heard across the whole of the house.  I picked up a bouquet of balloons and, with my head held high, made a hasty exit out of the front door.

He had a nerve.  What a cheek!  My indignation took me striding a mile up the road before I ran out of steam.  Then my tears started to flow.  What on earth was Angela thinking invited my ex to my party?  It should have been a celebration and she should have known better.

My mobile had been pinging with text messages and phone calls as I strode along but I ignored it.  I certainly don’t need friends like these, not now and never again would I be hurt like this.

 Word count: 500

Sunday, 15 January 2017


The above link will take you to the rules/guidelines - basically we have 200 words to create a story around a photo prompt.

This is our photo prompt for this week

The piece of pottery gave her nightmares. It was grotesque, the skull face, empty eye sockets, grinning teeth, all encased in ivory and pewter and silver and gold design could not be worth as much as he had intimated over the phone.

‘Well now, Ms. Saunders, I understand you want to sell this item.’  His voice made the hairs on my arms stand up.

‘Yes, that is the general idea or I wouldn’t have made the appointment with you and brought it here for appraisal.’  I smiled back charmingly, I might as well use my womanly wiles as long as they lasted.

His dark brown eyes under heavy, bushy eyebrows actually looked directly at me.  I held his stare, daring him to take advantage of me.  I wasn’t a blond bimbo, in fact I wasn’t a true blond at all.

We agreed a price, cash exchanged hands and I breathed a huge sigh of relief as I drove away from the sleazy pub where we had made the deal.   

Aunt Jane is probably turning in her grave but I am several hundreds of pounds richer and I know exactly how I will spend it. 

Ibiza Club 30 here I come.  
Word count:  200

Wednesday, 11 January 2017


 Wednesday Writers is hosted by the lovely Debb at

Inner Sunshine

this week our prompt  consisted of several photographs with dogs in the pictures.  I chose these two pictures for my story. 
To join in the fun click on Inner Sunshine

Here is my story: 

Goldie And The Gang

I know Goldie was more or less happy with me here but sometimes she seemed so sad and suckled her cuddly toy.  I had so many emotions when I went to pick her up from the rescue centre.  I wanted a dog for companionship, I’d never had one before and needed a more mature dog that was already house trained. 

The centre explained to me that Goldie was classed as a ‘rescue dog’ not because she had been abused in the physical sense but in the sense that the family who had her as a young puppy weren’t really suitable for her.  They had young children who were too loud and lively and always hyper, as is the phrase these days.  Goldie wasn’t settling, the parents worked full time, the kids had so many social activities that most of the time Goldie was left alone for hours and hours during the day and early evening.  The centre told me that when you took on the responsibility of having a dog in your family that dog should become part of the family and part of your life, not an ego trip or something to show off.

A few weeks in and I feel as though she is my life.  It is only these moments when I know she is sad and I wonder why and what I can do about it. 

Saturday was a beautiful day, sun streamed in the windows and the park beckoned to us.  I packed a thermos of hot tea, a couple of sandwiches and some doggy treats in my backpack, called to Goldie, fastened her lead and off we went.

Dog people are so friendly, nods and smiles and endearments to each other’s dogs, although nobody knows each other’s names we are all quite content to let the dogs interact with each other.

Goldie and I found a nice bench to have our lunch.  Goldie’s ears perked up and she started straining at her leash.  I looked in the direction that had taken her interest, three dogs were staring at us.   They didn’t seem to be with anybody. 

As I packed up our lunch things and got ready to leave the park the motley crew decided to follow us.  I took a detour and ended up at the rescue centre.  Samantha was just locking the door and leaving for the day when she spotted us.  

‘What have we got here?’ Samantha bent down to stroke all three dogs.   

I explained what had happened.  Samantha decided to open the centre and check them over.  She said she would contact me if she found out more about them.  Every week Goldie and I visited ‘our gang’ as we now referred to them.

To cut a long story short we are now a family of one lucky girl and four beautiful dogs.  Goldie is happy, no more sad eyes, and ‘our gang’ keep me on my toes and have brought joy and happiness to my life.

Word count: 497

Thursday, 5 January 2017


This week we were given two photos as the prompt for Wednesday Writers.


It was so tempting, Jerry kept watch from his vantage point.  It was cool on these marble steps, he was ready for anything, poised and alert, ready for action.  The noise of a pop-pop scooter had alerted him, the smell of the 2-stroke, the fumes from the noisy machine got right up his nose.  Why humans had to use those contraptions to travel he really didn’t know. 

It was worse when the people who gave him food and shelter decided to lock him up in a travelling cage and take him to an antiseptic smelling building where a rather obnoxious male stuck a needle in him and poked something up by his tail, talk about undignified. 

Didn’t they know that cats once ruled the world and were revered as gods, as they should be, by golly gosh!  Then he was subjected to that awful travelling cage again but thankfully the journey was taken in a more comfortable, roomier machine than that two-wheeled thing speeding down the street.

The cages hanging from the tree branches swayed gently in the breeze, the birds enclosed in them tweeted and chirped, sometimes in alarm and sometimes they just couldn’t help themselves as they sang out in wondrous joy.  What they had to be happy about, for the life of him, Jerry couldn’t work out. 

If they weren’t so high up they would be fair game and he could have a bit of sport stalking them but hey-ho that was his life, so he settled back, stretching along the cool marble.  He’d have a cat nap until it was time to wander indoors for a snack.

Feathers ruffled by the breeze
Billy sang out with ease
His wing tips were clipped
Left foot ringed and chipped
His last day of freedom
Taking the nectar from the blossom
The delicious sweet amber liquid
His attention was clouded
As he concentrated on feeding
Sated he flew in to the netting
Hanging from a tree
Limited to what he could see
Now he sang
All day long
From sunrise to sunset
He would never forget
Those days of liberty
His days were dreary
His wings weary
With useless flapping
All he could do was sing
His heart out all day through
High up with a clear view
Of dangers down below
He spotted an age-old foe
The cat was aware
Gave him ‘the stare’
Billy relaxed as the feline
Stretched his spine
Along the length cold stone
Marbled step he used as a throne.
Word count: 416

Wednesday, 28 December 2016


I hope every one had a wonderful few days celebrating and enjoying the Christmas period.  We had a busy time spending precious hours with family for three days and I have managed to find time to join in with 


Writing Prompt for Wednesday Stories 12/28/16

for this week's prompt.  we were given several pictures to choose from, we could use all or some of them as the prompt for our story.  I used just two pictures and went slightly over the word count. 


There I was just minding my own business, happily gnawing away on one of my precious acorns when something caught my eye.  I pretended not to look and become inconspicuous but I wasn’t blending in very well with the white, cold snow. 

Those humans began stomping all over the snow making deep holes in the snow making it difficult for me to get home trying to dodge those snow drifts they made with their heavy booted feet.

I tried not to get involved but the female of the pair squatted down and looked me straight in the eyes.  I managed to stop gnawing for a few seconds as I tried to out stare her but it wasn’t going to work.  She was obviously one of those do-gooder humans who thought that us squirrels and other wildlife needed their help in these wintry conditions.

I tried to tell her that we’d been surviving these wintry conditions for many seasons without the help of human intervention and sometimes they came too close to us for comfort.  We weren’t doing anyone any harm and we’d organised ourselves well in advance and had a lovely cache of nuts stored and secreted away for times like these when the food was hard to find naturally.

I heard the couple talking some gibberish about taking photographs for posterity.  Well they probably thought I wouldn’t even know that word.  Little did they know that squirrels were very well informed about the modern age and technology; we are quite clever little creatures. 

I did really want my five minutes of fame and struck a pose with what I thought was quite a beguiling look, a sideways glance while bringing the nut up to my mouth and having a sneaky taste.  I fluffed out my tail so that it looked tall and proud and waited for them to capture the moment.  

There it was.  I will now be famous worldwide, such a shame they don’t actually know my name and I will just be one of many ‘cute animals in the snow’ pictures that will abound through the airwaves, reaching far and wide in to people’s homes and maybe even make it in to print on to Christmas cards.  Oh, the commercialisation of our species is a great debate for another time perhaps.

I was waiting for them to turn round and go back the way they had come or even carry on past me and forget all about me when, to my astonishment, the male called to his female.  As she turned round to look at him, her face lit up with such a beautiful smile that I was actually dumbstruck for a moment or two.  

The joy and love on her face is something that I, as a mere squirrel, will take back to my dray to my own beloved and try to make her look at me with such love instead of the harried look she often gives me as she struggles to keep our brood of youngsters warm.  I’ll bring her a handful of nuts that she can chomp on as she looks after our young kittens.

Word count:  524

Wednesday, 21 December 2016


Prompt for Wednesday Stories 12/21/16
·       December 15, 2016

Today, there were will be two photos to use in your story.  Here are the seven words you will need:

seesaw * flashbulb * caffeine * jug * graffiti * seaweed * hand


Carrie put the bunch of carrots on the counter top.   Yes, she nodded to herself, there would be enough there, she’d make a jug of coffee before scraping and topping and tailing them.  She certainly felt the need for some caffeine today.

Nobody else remembered, nobody else realised what today meant.  The tenth anniversary of her best friend’s death.  People thought life should go on and so it should. She looked down at the ring on her hand and remembered Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth was so full of life, everything was fun to her, even in the playground when they were six years old she would bounce on the seesaw making it go so high up, bumping violently on the ground, shrieking with laughter as she gripped the handlebars tightly.  

That day at the beach when they were ten years old and their parents had taken them all to the coast.  The boys had gone off splashing in the sea ,Elizabeth and I collected seashells and then she draped a handful of smelly, brown, glutinous strands of seaweed around her neck and then round mine, chortling with laughter as I nearly choked on the foul smelling algae.

Then came the teenage years.  I would follow her anywhere and do anything she wanted.  She had such ideas, such notions that usually got us into trouble and we would end up being grounded for days or weeks and sometimes a month at a time. 

One Saturday afternoon I couldn’t join her and our friends as I was sick with the summer flu.  How I wished at the time I could have gone with the crowd but it wasn’t to be.  Elizabeth and a few others decided they would practice their art under the railway arches.  It would be cool they said to spray graffiti on the brick work and make it stand out.  Elizabeth was the artist amongst them, she was also the daredevil. 

Carrie brushed away a tear as the memory of that fateful afternoon crowded in, perhaps if she had been there she would have dissuaded Elizabeth from climbing on to the abutment then perhaps she wouldn’t have fallen.

The carrots were now chopped ready for the stew, everything else was in the dish so Carried popped the dish in the oven for a few hours while she got on with the rest of her day.

Picking up her camera she proceeded to her living, casting her eye around the surroundings she picked up a soft reindeer toy strategically placing it on the armchair.  She framed the shot and clicked as the automatic flash went off lighting up the area semi-blinding her eyes.   She was so glad things had moved on to automatic rather than the old fashioned flashbulb they used to use.  The noise as it popped and the smell of magnesium would sometimes overpower the user. 

Taking a few more shots Carrie then moved to her computer, uploaded her photographs and proceeded to write her Christmas blog.   

Word count: 497

Thursday, 8 December 2016


rib, ice-cream, offer, hook, consonant, teddy bear and file

This week the lovely Debb at Inner Sunshine ( has provided the above picture to use as the prompt for the 500 word story incorporating seven random words.

Here is my story:


Daphne heard the key turn in the front door.  She waited, holding her breath, as she listened for the next sound.  Then it came.

‘Hello Beautiful.’

Her grandson, Josh, entered her flat, he bent down and kissed her.  His whiskery lips brushed her paper thin cheek, he smoothed down her grey hair in a loving gesture.  She put down her work making sure the crochet hook was safe folded inside the woollen garment. 

‘Oh Gran, that’s lovely, such soft wool.  Are you making a teddy bear for Nicole?’

Daphne smiled at her grandson, the thought of her young great-granddaughter enjoying the stuffed toy filled her with delight.  Who would have thought she would see the day when she would have great-grandchildren to enjoy, although to be honest, they were rather tiring these days.  Her energy wasn’t what it once was.

Josh started chatting to her as he normally did.  She was so grateful he called in every day after work making sure she was safe and well in her tiny little council flat. 

‘Did you hear me offer to pick you up on Christmas morning, Gran?’

Josh was a bit worried that his gran had seemed to wander off in to a dreamlike trance.

‘Oh, yes my dear.  That would be so lovely.  Thank you.’

Josh continued to talk about the plans for the big day.  His wife, Anna, was planning on roasting a crown of turkey and a joint of rib-eye beef for dinner and then at supper time they would have cold cuts with a slice of Christmas cake.  Anna was also going to make some rum and raisin ice-cream for dessert.

Daphne started to believe that she might enjoy this second Christmas without her beloved Harry by her side.  There had been so many changes in the last couple of years to her life but as the saying goes, life goes in cycles and this was her twilight cycle.  She must enjoy every moment that she was given.

Josh came back from the kitchen with two cups of tea on her pretty floral tray, he’d even remembered to put some biscuits on a plate rather than leave them in the packet.  He was such a thoughtful chap.
Contentedly, sipping tea, dunking biscuits while they watched Daphne’s favourite programme, *Countdown, they started calling out the numbers and the next round was choosing vowels and consonants needed for the game to make up words in the minute allowed.

As Josh was leaving Daphne reached down by her side and picked up the file beside her armchair. 

‘This is my last Will and Testament that I want you to look at, my dear,’ she said quietly, a steely determination in her eyes.  Josh shook his head, she held his hand, ‘you have to help me with this.  You are the only person I trust to look after my estate.’  

Tears came unbidden to two pairs of identical eyes that communicated silently with all the love there was in the world. 

Word count:  500

*This is an English game show shown at teatime and very popular.