T is for Train

t is for train

© James Pyles

“A train whistle.”

Daniel’s only experience hearing a train whistle, at least as far as he could remember, was from the third Back to the Future movie. Doc and Marty were trapped in 1885, and they had to steal an old steam locomotive to push the DeLorean up to eighty-eight miles per hour.

The ten year old peeked through the flock, he was near the front of it anyway and there it was.

“A real 19th century steam engine. An old fashioned train.”

It was sitting at a platform. No sign of a town or any other structures, but there were people waiting to board, if they were people at all.

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S is for Sheep

s is for sheep

© James Pyles

Daniel’s eyes widened with terror as the enormous bird of prey descended toward them with the speed of a hawk.

“This is going to be close, Daniel.”

He could feel the grip of her pinions tighten around him, securing the boy to her body, then she suddenly changed the angle of her descent, making an almost vertical dive for a group of trees at the edge of the plains. She twisted so she presented her belly rather than her back to the roc’s talons in a desperate effort to protect the ten year old.

He felt the shudder of an impact and heard Olivia cry out, and then Gerald was ascending.

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Three Women and a Story

diner

© Roger Bultot

I watched the three women asking Mel questions. He’s always had a soft spot for ladies with a sob story, but I knew he wouldn’t sell me out. He doesn’t know much anyway, except that he fills my take out dinner order for two, not one.

I feel a little sorry for them. Adolpho promised to marry each one. Too bad they met at Bingo last month and found out.

I think Adolpho is a rat too, but he is my nephew and blood is blood. Tonight I’ll get him across the border. After that, he’s on his own.

Written for the Rochelle Wisoff-Fields photo writing challenge. The idea is to create a piece of flash fiction no more than 100 words long based on the photo prompt above. Mine comes in at 99.

To read other stories based on the prompt, visit InLinkz.com.

R is for Rabbit

r is for rabbit

© James Pyles

“The rabbits. But how?”

Daniel was staring at what looked like hundreds of rabbits, all standing on their hind legs, all with glowing red eyes and if possible, with facial expressions twisted into cruel hate.

“They have their ways in and out, Daniel. My guards use the doors only when visitors are present.”

For an instant, it seemed ridiculous to Daniel that a bunch of rabbits could threaten predators such as a lioness and an owl, but their size and sheer numbers made them a threat, and both the Queen and the owl made no move against them.

The ten year old turned to Olivia. “You knew”.

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The Long Dark Winter

freezing

© 2013 loniangraphics

“God it’s cold out there, Simon.”

“You say that every time you go out for supplies. Of course it’s cold. How’d you do?”

“The Rogues’ shipment from down south came in early. Paying those mercenaries cost a lot, but I managed some oranges and strawberries this time. How about you?”

“Got enough fuel from Old Man Mayberry to last us a couple more weeks at least. By then, he says he can get us some more.”

Carrie set her groceries down on the counter. It’s only a one room cabin, originally built as an artist’s retreat several miles outside of town, but now Simon and Carrie Mitchell call it home. Being small, it’s easy to heat, which is important, since the overall global temperature averages 3 to 4 degrees F less than it did before the Indian-Pakistani nuclear war five years ago.

It’s a limited “nuclear winter,” not quite like all of the disaster movies of the previous decade, but it will be fifteen years at least before the climate begins to return to pre-war levels.

I wrote this in response to the FFfAW Challenge-Week of May 16, 2017 hosted by Priceless Joy. The idea is to use the photo prompt above to write a piece of flash fiction between 100 and 175 words, with 150 being the ideal. My word count is 174.

When I saw the photo, after turning over a few possibilities in my mind, I settled on the topic of large scale nuclear winter. I first thought that it would be set off on purpose by a madman to counter the effects of climate change.

Then, doing a bit of research, I decided to lessen the effect and scope to show that even a “small” nuclear conflict could do long lasting damage to the environment.

I imagined that traditional government would break down, at least in certain areas, and that mercenaries would provide necessary services for an inflated price.

To read more stories based on the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.

Q is for Queen

q is for queen

© James Pyles

Daniel was awoken abruptly as Olivia touched down inside the tower.

“Wha? I was asleep?”

It was then he noticed that many of the great owl’s feathers had gripped him and held him in place on her back while they were in flight. They had also kept him warm since soaring through the snowy mountain passes was quite chilly.

“We’ve arrived, Daniel. You can get down now.”

Still disoriented from just waking up, the ten year old almost fell to the floor. He looked back and saw a large, open window which obviously granted the owl entrance to the tower. He looked out the window, down at the vast castle below, and the sheer drop beyond that.

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P is for Pig

p is for pig

© James Pyles

Dingos don’t consider themselves afraid of anything, but when dawn’s early light revealed an army of razorback pigs, each with a warrior mouse upon its back, charging at them, they yelped and ran.

At the lead was William the Kangaroo. “Pumba, send a detachment after them. Slay them to the last. The rest, stand guard.”

The head razorback, a jolly fellow in spite of his fierce reputation, gave the order.

“Can I get off now?” An extremely shaky Bernard, clad in leather armor and wielding a mouse-sized spear, quietly addressed his mount.

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The Long Memory

piazza navona

© Sally-Ann Hodgekiss

“This is the man I saw when I was in Piazza Navona, Officer. The one who vandalized the Fontana del Moro.”

“Thank you, Mr. Russo. We have your statement and the court will contact you about his trial.”

Giovanni Russo left the police station and two police officers escorted the vandal to an interrogation room.

“Sir, you have no identification. Who are you? Why did you decapitate the figures on the Fontana with a rock?”

“Stop questioning him, Romano. He should have a lawyer.”

“He isn’t asking for one, is he, Bianchi?”

Both officers looked at the mysterious man. They’d never understand the thoughts transpiring behind those ancient, haunted eyes.

Piazza Navona had been built on the site of the 1st century Stadium of Domitian where the Romans went to watch the games. That was where he’d died for the first time. Since then, an endless stream of reincarnations brought the horror back with each lifetime. Now in 2011, his current incarnation was quite insane.

Written for the Sunday Photo Fiction – May 14th 2017 writing challenge. The idea is to use the photo above as a prompt to create a piece of flash fiction no more than 200 words long. My word count is 164.

On September 3, 2011, the Fontana del Moro was really damaged by a vandal, though he was photographed by security cameras rather than seen by a live witness.

Also, the Piazza Navona really was built on the site of the Stadium of Domitian. I used these two bits of history to craft my wee tale this morning.

To read other stories based on the prompt, go to InLinkz.com.

O is for Owl

o is for owl

© James Pyles

The flutter of massive wings from behind Daniel terrified him as he continued to stare at the three large eggs in the nest with him, each one as large as he was. Finally the creature behind him was still, and a prim, perfect woman’s voice said, “I hear you’ve been looking for me.”

The ten year old turned around to see a very big owl sitting on a branch just next to the nest.

“I’m Olivia. I’m sorry I was late, but I had a great deal to do to prepare for your return.”

“My what? I’ve never been here before.”

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N is for Net

n is for net

© James Pyles

“Oh Bernard, I have a terrible feeling about Androcles. He should have gotten here days ago.”

“Now, now, Miss Bianca, I’m sure he’s fine. He probably just got tied up with something.”

At the edge of the monsoonal eucalyptus woodlands, Daniel watched the two mice, who seemed all too human, talking about their missing companion, the one who was supposed to stand guard to make sure the King didn’t escape their trap. They also seemed the two most compassionate mice among the group. Mickey showed no interest in what happened to Androcles whatsoever, spending most of his time with Minnie trying on each other’s clothes. The rest of the mice seemed just as distracted and frivolous.

“William.” Daniel called to his kangaroo companion.

“I’ll be right over, Daniel.” The kangaroo was talking to his sister Esmeralda. Something about not putting her son in danger again. She seemed really insistent.

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