FFF55: Divine intervention?

She was almost blind and her limbs trembled constantly, but she knew she was doing holy work. She knew her god would guide her hand if she was weak, so she continued with her mission. But gradually she began to doubt. Perhaps trying to restore the church fresco wasn’t such a great idea after all.

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An 80-year-old Spanish woman has ruined a painting of Christ on the wall of her local church by attempting some 'restoration' work.  The image by painter Elias Garcia Martinez now looks more like "a very hairy monkey in an ill-fitting tunic" according to one observer. More details here.

These 55 words have been written for The G-Man's Friday challenge. Go visit him to see what other people have offered.

FFF55. If anyone knows...

It was a wedding and everyone was supposed to be happy, weren’t they? But she knew

the real truth behind all of it. She knew what the guy was really like – but would she tell? She’d hurt a lot of people if she did.

The vicar was saying: “Speak now, or forever hold your peace…..”

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I'll be away Friday at a wedding (!) so I'll not be at my computer. Here's my 55 words for the G-Man. A little early. Go see what other fictions people have written.

FFF55. Billy's challenge

Big Mike Bigelow stared at Billy’s offering  for half a minute that seemed to stretch for hours.  If Mr Big accepted the gift, Billy knew he’d be accepted into the gang.  This was his only chance. The big man opened a cigar box and proffered it, nodding a direction to drop the severed finger in.

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My 55 offering for this week. (Virtual) blood dripping, in the hope that the Big G-Man will accept it. 

It's actually adapted from something I'm working on elsewhere. Huge chunks hav appeared in a different format on my Thinking Ten page. But for this version, go visit the G-Man to see what other people have offered.

FFF55. Later

Better late than never, my mother always said. On the other hand she was always very angry if we were so much as a minute overdue for anything. Makes a child very confused.  Just what am I supposed to do?  It also created a permanently guilty adult.

My 55 words are late.

No excuse.

Sorry.

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Check out less hurriedly composed 55s than this at the G-Man's blog. 

The intruder. (FFF55)

There was something furtive in the way he moved through the house, edging carefully around furniture, stepping noiselessly. The woman was oblivious to his approach, peeling vegetables at the sink as he crept behind her. Then he made his move.
“Surprise! Happy birthday Darling,” he announced, as he produced a bouquet from behind his back.

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Hey, G-Man. TWO actual characters this week, AND a plot.

For everyone else - go see the G-Man to see what Friday 55 is all about.

FFF55: Victorian Philanthropy

Since the earliest days of industrialisation, factory owners created communities for their work forces, based around a centre of production. Their apparent generosity earned them the title of philanthropist. In truth they were just maximising performance. A healthy workforce is a productive one, so looking after staff meant individuals worked harder and longer, increasing profits.

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I'm working on my novel again, and it's got a lot in it about the Industrial Revolution and social changes that came about with it. These 55 words are adapted from a chapter I'm currently working on.

Sorry, no central character G-Man - but it has a sort of plot.

For more 55s go see the G at Mister Knowitall's Blog

The tale of the Lancashire witches (in 55 words)

Fear and superstition were rife in early 17th century England so it was all too easy to misinterpret a glance, and link it to later misfortune. And that’s why ten people of Pendle were hanged for witchcraft. Device, Chattox, Demdike, Whittle and Co. No black cats, no pointy hats; just accusations and misdirected religious fervour.

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The Lancashire (or Pendle) Witches are among the most famous in England. Like their US counterparts in Salem, Mass., the group were victims of over zealous neighbours who were quick to accuse at the first sign of trouble. Alizon Device was called witch after she had dealings with a peddlar who refused to give her some pins. He collapsed, paralysed, and later died (probably of a stroke) and Alizon was blamed. She was said to have cursed him, with the help of her large black dog familiar. Friends and neighbours were soon rounded up and branded as a coven, who were said to meet for Sabbats at the home of Anne Whittle, known as Old Chattox.

In spite of common belief, witches were not burned at the stake in England. That treatment was reserved for heretics, and the fires wee kept alight by throwing on homosexual 'faggots' (which actually means a bundle of sticks).

This 55 word story and its accompanying history lesson were brought to you in aid of the G-Man's weekly challenge. (I'm hoping he's better by now.) This has been posted in advance because we're currently on holiday in Lancashire. Looking for witches!

For the G-Man. 55 words anyway.

The G-Man is taking a break while he recovers from being pretty ill. So the 55 word challenge won't be happening (at least for this week) but some of us just can't break the habit!

Look after yourself G-Man.   Here's 55 words just for you:

Take care of yourself Man from Michigan.
We’ll miss you until you come back.
But your health is a lot more important
Than 55 words from a hack.


Of course we all enjoy the challenge
Of writing a story each week
And wait for your comments, all eager
To see if you’ve outdone your cheek.

FFF55. Affirmation

When I was young I used to ask: “How do you know if you’re in love?” And they answered: “If you aren’t sure, you’re not.”

I didn’t understand. Not then. But I do now. Every moment of every day I understand and know I am in love. And even better, I know I am loved.

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Dedicated to my K.

But written for the G Man's challenge on a Friday.
55 words.

55 words on a Friday: Lost my marbles

“Hand it over and tell me where you got it, please.”


“Shan’t.”

“I’m asking nicely. Please let me see it.”

“It’s mine!”

“I really need to look at it, young man. Now!”

“Officer, leave my son alone. He’s only playing marbles. What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, Ma’am. That’s not a marble, it’s a glass eye.”

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As usual on a Friday, I've written 55 words for the G-Man. Please forgive me, gentle readers, if I don't get back to your offerings for a few days. It's my birthday, and Easter, and I'm taking a break. Be back before you know it, though!

I sort of wrote this with an American accent. Do they play marbles over there?  And is the phrase "lost my marbles" specifically British?

Is it Friday again already?

There’s something about the eventual arrival of Spring weather after a long and miserable winter that brings out the best and the worst in people. I’ve seen how everyone has a happier expression and they are smiling at each other again. But have you noticed how awful their pasty skin looks in such bright light?

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More words for the G-Man. He likes them in bundles of 55 every Friday. Go check them out.

FFF55. Signs of spring.

Wood pigeon.
Magpie. (Morning Sir.)*

Blackbirds.
Some sort of crow.
Unidentified, large, brown, bird of prey.**
(Must look that up when I get home.)

Pied wagtail.
Collared dove.
Another magpie. Two for joy!
Lots of small twittering things in a tree.

More blackbirds.
A second crow, carrying a twig.
Squirrel!

Sparrow.
Robin.
Squashed young badger.

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55 words for the G-Man. Because it's Friday.

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* A single magpie, to avoid the bad luck of 'one for sorrow', must be saluted.



** I thought maybe hen harrier because I know we have them round our way, but a look at some photos suggests buzzard was a possibility. I could tell the difference in the air - but this thing was sat on the hedge.

FFF55. Weekend Father

“Please sit down.”
“No. Mummy doesn’t make us sit down.”
“I’m sure she does. Sit down!”
“Don’t have to.”
“If you don’t sit down you won’t get ice cream.”
“You’re mean.”
“People are getting annoyed with you.”
”Don’t care what people think. Mummy wouldn’t care about people.”
“Mummy never cared about anything much. Including us.”
 

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55 words for the G-Man. Based on something I saw a year or so ago.

FFF55: A new paradigm for proactive implementation of tailored win-win strategies

Bernard hated management speak, but even more he loathed when he did all the work and colleagues took the credit.
So he devised a plan.

The next time one of the smarmy sales requested his ‘strategic input’ he returned totally wrong data.
“I think that’s what they call ‘low hanging fruit’,” he chuckled to himself.

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Heads up.
This blog leverages direct campaigns, to communicate robust, scalable and best-in-class solutions.

We don't talk b*ll*cks. 

I had to attend a 'webinar' this week.  (A word which, by itself, sends shivers through me.) I have seldom heard such a mass of drivel in one 'journey through a cloud-based offering towards my ultimate discovery, delivered by way of one seamless transition'.  Hence this contribution to the G-Man's demand for 55 words of fiction.

Incidentally, this has got to be one of the first times a title has been almost as long as my story!

fff55. Phobia

Dianne sat paralysed with fear until the light faded, legs drawn up into her chair so the beast couldn’t reach her. Unable to see where the terrifying animal might be, she remained until rescue arrived.
It did not help her temper when her friend laughed out loud: “It’s a tomato top - not a spider!”

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It really happened. Honest.
Fifty five words for the G-Man

FFF55: A Grim Tale

This is for the G-Man, as usual. His weekly challenge to write a story in 55 words is fun and entertaining. My offering this week is inspired by a news story I heard a few days ago.
Are fairytales too frightening for children?

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‘So, traditional tales are too scary for children,?’ Brian queried after gathering his family in the kitchen.  His young sons looked on, fascinated.

‘No more Brothers Grimm. No more Fee Fi Fo Fum.

‘Maybe we should show them a slice of real life, then,’ he sneered, and plunged the bread knife into his wife’s chest.

FFF55. Victory

Will’s motorbike wasn’t very powerful, but he dreamed of winning races just as soon as he was old enough to ride a big machine. He regularly practised his victory salute in readiness for the day.
At the inquest the lorry driver said Will could not have swerved because he had his hands in the air.

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Another 55 words on a Friday for the G-Man.

FFF55. Helen's dilemma

Helen took a deep breath and prepared to explain it again. Her fiancé was looking at her with a strange expression: slightly confused and slightly annoyed.
“This has nothing to do with women’s lib and equality. I’m just not going to take your name when we’re married. 
“I refuse to be known as Helen Highwater!”

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55 words every Friday for the G-Man!

FFF55. Billy

“Stupid man,” thought Billy ‘the Dip’ Jackson. The bloke didn’t have a clue. He’d been the perfect mark – clearly a tourist and carrying cash in his back pocket. Billy counted out the notes until he came to the last sheet and read: “Enjoy your moment of gloating. They’re fakes. And I’ve now got your wallet.”

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55 words for the G-Man. Go and see what other people have produced over at Mr Knowitall's blog.

fff55. Growing hope

Jim looked at the tiny packet on the table in front of him that held so much hope. It was hard to believe that his future might rely on it. Now he was unemployed he might starve if he could not make the seeds grow. He pushed them into the soil and crossed his fingers.

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55 words for the G-Man. (With an actual storyline!)