SPF: Wrong generation

Photo courtesy of LL Jones

It was the first day of her holiday and Vicky wanted to do everything her grandchild, Marnie, had told her to. She wore the sunglasses that had been picked out for her and then pulled out the contraption that her grandchild had told her was an iPhone. Doing everything she was told, Vicky was ready to take her first-ever selfie.

When she lined it up, all she could see was the reflection of herself looking into the phone which was reflected again and again in some kind of endless motion.

Surely her granddaughter would not have pointed towards something that would make fun of her? She decided no and before she could change her mind, clicked send to Instagram.


This story was written for Sunday photo fiction

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SPF: The fright

Scary but true, this is based on something that actually happened when my cat was a lot younger than he is now! Yes, these YouTube videos do actually exist!

This is written for this week’s Sunday photo fiction

Photo courtesy of Sue-Z

Leto was watching one of the YouTube videos for cats that his owner had started on a laptop. He was sitting comfortably watching as a bird walked around eating breadcrumbs or whatever else it was picking up. He was daydreaming about his next meal, was it going to be a mouse, a bird, or even one of those meals from heaven that his owner poured from some kind of pouch? Whatever it was, he was sure that it was going to be delicious.

As a direct result of this daydreaming, Leto has started to not concentrate much on the video. He was enjoying the noises of birds as they chirped happily, but it was just noise in the background by then.

Suddenly, a squirrel appeared on the screen trying to help itself to some of the food. At sight, Leto jumped away in both surprise and fright. He scrambled backwards before running to find the security of his owner’s lap.

As his owner gave him the cuddle he needed to feel safe, he could feel her shaking as she laughed. He should have been angry, but he was too scared. “Cowardly cat,” she laughed as she turned off the video.

SPF: the lifelong dream

Now, I am going to screw my brain on and write a story for the correct date! I enjoyed the other prompt anyway, so let’s have a go at another. So, this 200-word story is inspired by Sunday photo fiction.

Photo courtesy of Artur Malishkevych

The couple were sitting underneath a palm tree on a beach looking over the idyllic scenery before them. This was the place they had wanted to come on honeymoon, but it had never made it for one reason or another. Here they were, retired and very close to celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary.

He sighed. “Beautiful isn’t it, dearest?”

“Absolutely. We have waited our whole lives to get to this moment.”

“I guess that is the joys of having children. We sacrificed everything for them, and now we finally have a chance to live our own lives.”

They stood up and faced each other in the sunset. “It seems so silly that we have waited so long to get here. Mind you, I wouldn’t change anything for the world. Not one moment.”

The comfortable silence of long-married couples descended between them as they watched the ferry docking into the port and tourists noisily pouring out from inside. The people were dancing, singing, and celebrating who knows what as they scurried away.

The man’s smile as he watched them were tinged with a hint of sadness. “So, when are we going to tell our children that we are getting a divorce?”

SPF: The cult of the artist

The following is a 200-word story inspired by this week’s Sunday photo fiction. Please give their site a visit and have a look at the other entries made. They are certainly worth it 🙂

Photo from Morguefile

A strange thing happened every week is a non-descript café in town. It used to happen every Wednesday at about 6 PM. A group of people, the numbers growing seemingly every week, used to gather around the small tables and take out their sketchbooks. It was then that the silence descended and everyone began to draw.

It used to happen for about one hour before, just as silently, the members of this group put down their drawing equipment and left the café.

People never imagined that it was a cult of some description as no money changed hands, at least not between their members, only with the owners of the café who provided drinks or snacks as required. There were no words either, no dictation of belief, and no evidence of any brainwashing. It all appeared to be a group of like-minded individuals expressing themselves through their art. Nobody ever felt threatened by them, so they were left alone to just sit and draw.

Everyone was going to change their mind about the peaceful group on the day they just stopped going. Nobody really investigated why but everybody found out when evidence of mass suicide of artists appeared close by.

SPF: The protest

It has certainly been a while, but I’m definitely glad to see that this challenge is still going 🙂 check out this great challenge here and read everyone else’s take on the prompt.

Photo courtesy of DB McNicol via Pixabay

The protest

The people began to gather in the courtyard. They were dressed in bright colours, aiming to get themselves noticed so the placards they waved would be read. This was the day that they had been working towards. It was also the day someone was finally going to take notice. Months of hard work and planning had all led to this moment. The atmosphere was electric as everyone waited for the start of the march to Trafalgar Square.

As everybody prepared to leave a solitary crow flew down to the empty pavement in front of them and squawked noisily. It was standing defiantly, as if in protest against what was about to happen. It glowered at the people in the front and squawked again.

People glanced uneasily at each other because they did not know what to do in the event of a crow stopping them moving. They did not wish to harm it, and their attempts to make it fly away were having no effect.

In the end, everyone had to filter by in single file. All the time the bird did not move, only continually squawking indignantly.

Nobody knew about the mothers nest nearby, complete with chicks.

SPF: A time slip

DSCF8715Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding

Something slapped the girl very hard in her back making her plunge forwards into the muddy ground head first. However, she ignored the pain and pulled herself back to her feet. She had to warn the Royal bodyguard about the assassination plot that she’d discovered. That, and she needed to get away from the people that were pursuing her. She sucked in a ragged breath jumping into the secret tunnel. As she slipped down into the small space, she heard sounds of her pursuers running above, cracking branches and cursing wildly on their way.
As she turned the corner, her whole body froze. It was not only the sounds of voices that unsettled her but also the changes that she noticed. The roof was somehow different, as was the floor. Strange glowing orbs were pressed into walls illuminating the darkness.
Somebody walked towards her without noticing her presence. “In the entrance here, we discovered the body of a girl we later identified as Emily. She had discovered the assassination plot and was trying to alert the guard. Unfortunately, she was unable to stop what occurred the next day.”
Emily sank down and hugged her knees. Did that mean she’d failed?

Written for Sunday photo fiction

SPF: unanswered questions

It does bring a while since I have taken part in Sunday photo fiction. It is a pity to read that the old host has stepped down. However, I am happy to say that somebody else has taken hold of the reins and kept it going.

Here is my attempt:
ayr6Photo Prompt: C.E. Ayr

The little boy stared up at the very unusual sight of a large grey animal in the museum. He tugged on his mother’s arm as his gaze never wavered; “Mummy, what is that?”

“It’s an elephant, Tommy.”

“Elephant,” Tommy spoke to word slowly, making sure he got the brand-new word right. “Why is it in the museum?” It was very difficult for him to understand why an animal should be presented as an exhibition like that.

Without warning, his mother’s eyes seem to mist with unshed tears. “Remember that mammoth a few rooms ago?” She waited for her son to nod his head. “Well, it is a similar reason because this animal is also extinct. You see those tusks? They made of ivory, and some people believed they were better used in ornaments rather than on the animal. They hunted out of existence in the world a few years ago. That was when the ones in captivity were no longer safe. People broke in to kill the animal and get their prize.”

Tommy stood looking at the unfamiliar creature. “But, mummy, it is beautiful. Why would people destroy something as beautiful with this?”

“Sadly, that question will always remain unanswered.”

Written for Sunday photo fiction