Gone With A Wind by P.S. Joshi

Copyright Sandra Crook

Copyright Sandra Crook

This is my story this week for Friday Fictioneers. It’s a weekly flash fiction challenge to tell a story in 100 words that follows the picture prompt for the week. It’s hosted by the gracious and talented Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. This week the photo was supplied by Sandra Crook. Thanks Sandra.

Link: http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/02/26/28-february-2014

The builder looked at the plans and frowned. The architect looked confident.

“Listen Mr. ah…”

“Wolfe, Mr. A. Wolfe. What seems to be the problem?”

“I”ve been building for years and I can’t see how in the world a house made of straw is go’in ta hold up to the weather in this part of the world. It’s just not practical. Never pass inspection.”

“Not to worry. This is an entirely new design and the client is perfectly happy to have it built just this way.”

“What’s the guy’s name now?”

“It’s Mr. Pigg, Littleton Pigg.”

“I’ve gotta meet this guy.”

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Strange by P.S. Joshi

This is my entry for the Trifecta Writing Challenge, Trifextra: Week 103. We were to write a story in 33 words, and end it with the sentence, “That wasn’t what I meant.” The last sentence didn’t count in the 33-word count.

Link: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com

I told my friend, Val, “I met someone at a party yesterday. He’s cute, but I really think he’s a bit long in the tooth.”

Her eyes bulged. “Ooh.” She whispered. “A vampire?”

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

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Clock Near the Park by P.S. Joshi

clock

This is my story for February Storybook Corner hosted by Adam Ickes. It’s a monthly flash fiction challenge where a prompt is given to inspire a story  from 300 to 500 words in length based on the prompt. A new prompt is given the 21st of each month.

Link: http://adamickes.wordpress.com/2014/02/20/storybook-corner-prompt-february/

My parents and I live in the town of Franklyn, Indiana, in the downstairs apartment of an old building on Park Street. Nothing  exciting happens here, especially on this street. The most exciting things have been reports of a wolf on the edge of town where old man Travis’ land starts.

Bill Burke, the local handyman, swore he saw a small wolf but he tells a lot of fake stories, so few believe him. Some others have said they heard one howling, but most don’t believe that either.

It’s Wednesday, almost 10:20 AM, of a sweltering day in the middle of summer. The worst thing is our computer is broke. I’ve read all my books and it’s too hot to walk to the library.

I grabbed one of my comic books from a box in my room and plopped on the couch in front of the large living room window. Dad said we can’t afford air conditioning,  so I’m feeling the sweat run down my face and neck and soak into my T-shirt.

My best buddy, Sam, is with his family on a trip. I’m bored, bored, bored. It’s another month-and-a-half before school starts. At twelve, I’m too young to get a job; so here I sit. I stared out at the big black-rimmed clock on the black pole near the park. Nothing was there, so I glanced down at my comic and then back out the window. Now there was  a kid about my age standing near the clock pole.

I got up and moved to the front screen door, slowly unhooking it. I swung it open and went outside and down the steps to our walk.  Slowly, foot by foot, I came to the main sidewalk, then crossed the street.

I’d never seen this kid before. He was thin, pale and seemed real nervous.

“Hi,” I said. “You’re new in town ain’t ya?”

“Yeah. Me and my parents just moved here from near Selwich.”

He stood first on one foot, then the other.

“I gotta go home now. Mom and Dad don’t like me to wander very far from home.”

Then he ran off.

That evening at dinner, I told Dad about the new kid. He seemed to think for a while.

“Selwich?” he said. “That sounds familiar. Oh. I know. People spotted a wolf over near there too, just like here. They said it was kind of small and seemed wary of getting close to them. Where in the heck do you suppose a wolf came from? Maybe somebody had it as a pet and it got loose.

I felt a chill all of a sudden, even though it was still hot. I remembered something too. I went and got my comic book, The Mayfield Werewolf.

The Bell by P.S. Joshi

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Photo by David Stewart

This is my story for Friday Fictioneers this week. It’s a weekly challenge to tell a story in 100 words that follows the picture prompt for the week. It’s hosted by the talented and gracious Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. This week the photo was supplied by David Stewart. Thanks David.

Link: http://www.rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/02/19/21-february-2014/

The big old dinner bell had hung outside Grandma and Grandpa’s country home for many years. It was there when I was born. After they died, Dad took it down to keep when we sold the place.

Grandpa told me Grandma would ring it to call him and their five kids to meals.

“Only thing is the dang thing sometimes rings in the middle of the night.” he told me. “It came from an old fire station.”

Dad hung it outside on our back porch and funny thing, by golly, sometimes the dang big, noisy, thing still rings at night.

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A Valentine to Herself by P.S. Joshi

janet-webbs-sangria

This is my story for Friday Fictioneers this week. It’s a weekly challenge to tell a story in 100 words that follows a picture prompt. It’s hosted by the gracious and talented Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. This week’s picture was supplied by Janet M. Webb. Thanks Janet.

Link: http://www.rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/02/12/14-february-2014

Eileen Parkin relaxed in her comfortable chair, munching on some soaked fruit (a habit she picked up before she became a famous star, and so was often hungry). She was being interviewed on the veranda of the La Ritz Hotel in Hollywood for Glitz magazine.

“Darling” (she even called her poodle darling), “you have no idea what a pain, absolute pain, it is to be famous and worshipped.” She then sipped her wine.

“As I said to my investment banker, ‘Rupert, darling, it’s such a pain to be worshipped.'”

The overworked, struggling interviewer bit her tongue and took a deep breath.

Passion Faded by P.S. Joshi

This is my story for this week’s Trifecta Writing Challenge-Trifextra:Week 102.  We were asked to write 33 words about love gone wrong without using the following words:  love, sad, tears, wept, heart, pain. Link is: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com

Our passion cooled gradually as day drifts into night. A joyless sweep of time loomed on ahead. All our hurt and weeping was for naught. Our breasts heaved, bearing our sorrow and distress.

 

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A Confused Valentine’s Day Visitor by P.S. Joshi

This is my story for The Daily Post’s Weekly Writing Challenge: 1,000 Words. Link as follows:

http://www.dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/10/writing-challenge-valentine

Hello. I’m Sotom, a doctor from the planet Trae. I’ve shot through many galaxies and stopped off on some of the planets to sightsee. I’m able to alter my appearance to resemble any resident of any planet, so you won’t be able to tell me from the ordinary citizen of Earth if I drop by for a look. I’ve seen some of the Earth movies–having often dropped by here. It’s one of the more interesting places to stop. I know how you people think you’ll immediately recognize one of us. Please. Give us some credit for superior brains.

This trip though, I’m confused. When I landed and shrank my vessel so that it fit into the pocket of my Earth jeans, I went into a nearby city and was handed an invitation to a strange party. There was some kind of red symbol on the sheet that resembled nothing I’d ever seen before. I asked someone and they said it was a heart. It didn’t look like any heart I’d ever seen. Even the Gorks–strange beings indeed–don’t have hearts shaped like that. Also, I’d never seen an actual heart that color.

The party was to be that evening so, being a partying-type alien, I made a note of it then proceeded on my way.

Now I know that Earth people are usually very friendly, but I was embarrassed this trip to notice some of the behavior between males and females of the planet. I turned a rather red tinge noticing the hand-holding and embracing. Traeons never get within two feet of each other unless they intend to produce young. They have to then get special permission to produce from the local government, especially if they want more than two offspring.

I did, however, better understand the heart symbol. It must be a warning not to be shocked at the behavior of certain people on this strange day. I hope it’s not a plague of some type! I might find I’m not immune.

I decided to see if people in a different part of Earth behaved that way on this day. I found out from another inhabitant that it’s called Valentine’s Day. There are also cards sold and given to members of the opposite sex with that strange heart symbol on them. Someone gave one to me that I intend to take back to Trae. Otherwise, most Traeons might not believe me about this shocking behavior.

I took off and landed in a field of another country on Earth. Here the weather was much warmer, and there were more people. When I entered the nearest city, I did notice that some stores were selling the Valentine’s Day cards. Young people of the opposite sex were exchanging flowers called roses. The behavior, however, was somewhat different here. There was not the abundance of, I’m still embarrassed to say the word, touching, that I noticed in the other country. A bunch of men  even walked up to a couple and voiced their disgust at this flower-gifting  practice. Ah yes, I thought, this somehow looked like what would happen on Trae.

I was puzzled, however, about the number of people in this country. I would guess that many people had received permission to have more than two offspring.

I decided to walk still further and observe more of the Valentine’s Day behavior of this city. When I started to cross the street, I heard the screeching of brakes, and was actually grazed by a speeding two-wheeled vehicle. On Trae the vehicles always slow down to avoid an accident. Also, there are flashing signs at streets to warn a person crossing when it’s safe to do so. I had looked for such a sign, but not seeing one, decided that vehicles here were always extremely careful of persons crossing in their path.

I now think that people must rarely cross streets on foot or, for that matter, even venture anywhere on foot. This was also verified by the lack of walking paths beside the streets. Some people dared to actually walk in the street to get to their destinations. These were no doubt desperate Earth people who had to risk their lives to complete daily chores. I felt immediately sorry for them in their sad plight. To make matters worse, there were some large holes with men digging in them  on the side of the street. I don’t know what the holes were for.

How was I to go on? It was then that I noticed the three-wheeled vehicles parked along the side of the street. I produced some currency for this country by checking in my tiny computer–made to look like an Earth wristwatch–speaking the name of the country. Immediately the proper currency appeared in my hand. I climbed on board the vehicle and directed the dirver in his language–supplied by my language translator located in the same computer–to drive on until I told him to stop.

I noticed that many people were going outside their homes to eating establishments called restaurants. This must be the way some people in this city celebrate on this day. I thought I’d sample some food in this city, so directed the driver to stop, and paid him. For some reason he didn’t have any coinage or notes to give me exact change as it’s called, so it cost me more than it probably should have. There must be a shortage of some types of coins and notes in this country.

I got down and walked into the restaurant and was shown to a table. I asked the man serving me what he would suggest. I ordered the dish he pointed out and it looked like other Earth food I’d seen. However, when I ate a spoonful, I felt like flames were shooting up inside my mouth. I’ve noticed that the Valentine’s Day hearts were red. Perhaps my mouth was supposed to match them on this day.

The Farm Auctions by P.S. Joshi

 

 

lvbydawne_2

 

This is my story for Friday Fictioneers this week. It’s a weekiy challenge to tell in 100 words a story matching the picture prompt. It’s hosted each week by the gracious Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. This week’s picture was supplied by Dawn M. Miller. Thank you Dawn..

In the 1950’s a lot of old farms were being sold, and auctions were held. Dad loved both antiques and auctions so he enjoyed going to see what was available. The lamps and other old furniture placed around outside reminded him of his childhood in south-western Ohio.

I used to also love auctions, especially when Dad bid on a “mystery box”. Those could contain anything from books, to figurines, to dolls, to whatever.

He used to refinish old furniture. It was surprising sometimes what appeared from under the paint. Finished pieces would end up in our home to be admired.

Link: http://www.rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/02/05/7-february-2014/