THE SECRET QUEST OF SIR JOHN

 

Photo Copyright: Al Forbes

This story was written for Sunday Photo Fiction–January 7, 2018. Each week the host, Al Forbes provides a picture prompt taken by himself or sent in by one of the other participants in the group of writers. The challenge for each member of the group is to write an original story or poem with no more than 200 words, not including the title and inspired by the prompt. This week’s prompt was taken by Al himself. Thanks, Al.

To read the other stories written by group members, just click on the link below, then on the little blue frog in the blue box.

The link to the other stories this week is as follows:

https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2018/01/07/sunday-photo-fiction-january-7th-2018/

Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 200 Words

THE SECRET QUEST OF SIR JOHN by P.S. Joshi

Sir John and his page sat high on their coursers as they rode from the castle. They required speed. From the heights of the trail leading down, he viewed the surrounding city.

The queen had given him a message to take to her husband near the battlefield. He knew he might not survive. If he was shot down, his page would take over. The message must arrive.

The cold had gone and the horses slipped on the muddy path. The city was skirted.

Behind the lines, John found the king’s tent, quickly dismounted, and entered.

“Sire,” he said as he knelt, “the queen has sent an urgent message.”

“Arise,” said the ruler. “Give it me.” A look of surprise and dismay came on the monarch’s face as he read.

“Sir John do you know the contents of this missal?”

“No Your Majesty.”

“This is indeed serious news. My brother, Sir Henry has turned traitor. The enemy knows some of our battle plans. We must fight all the harder. May God in His mercy be with us this day. Let us pray.”

Heads bowed.

“Almighty God look upon and protect your servants. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TRIP INTO THE FUTURE

 

Climbers overnight cliffside huts--Al Forbes--july-24th-2016

This story was written for Sunday Photo Fiction–July 24th, 2016. Each week the host, Al Forbes, provides a picture prompt. The challenge for each member of the group is to write an original story or poem with no more than 200 words, not including the title and inspired by the prompt.

To read the other stories written by group members, just click on the link below, then on the little blue frog in the blue box.

The link to the other stories this week is as follows:

https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2016/07/24/sunday-photo-fiction-july-24th-2016/

Genre: Sci-fi Fiction

Word Count: 200 Words

TRIP INTO THE FUTURE by P.S. Joshi

My grandfather had disappeared back in 1950 in a complicated machine he called his Time Traveler. No one saw him until he arrived in it in 1955. He was considerably aged and only lived for a year after that.

The first night back he wrote the following message. He had little energy to do more:

“To family and friends I impart this information. I’m destroying my machine and beg you not to try and fix it. The world in which I found myself was that of 4545. People had managed to survive but had to use every bit of their knowledge to do so. They were living in well-designed caves on the face of a large cliff. They had burrowed deep inside and stored all their goods and equipment to last for hundreds of years. The only sign they were there were the transparent bubbles on the cliff side letting in air and sun. They had a water source deep in the caves and a machine that supplied even more of an artificial light source. They lived like this because the creatures above and below were mutants who would eat anything, even them if possible.” James Forestall

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Written Act of Kindness Award

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SHE STILL LIVES

Sewer Lid

Copyright — Adam Ickes

This is my June story for Storybook Corner hosted by Adam Ickes. Each story is supposed to be from 300 to 500 words in length, or longer if thought necessary, and be inspired by the photo prompt provided that month by Adam.

http://adamickes.wordpress.com/2014/06/23/storybook-corner-prompt-june/

Genre: Horror Fiction

Word Count: 496

SHE STILL LIVES by P.S. Joshi

As old as oxygen, she now lived in the sewers of the city; there were no more caves. Caves were what she craved; cool and damp with the scent of the earth and the different animals that came. Eating them had filled her with strength and increased her power over life. Immortal, she wouldn’t have understood death.

Rats were plentiful, but she ate little these days and could feel her energy drain.  Sewage was gradually sickening her. She only knew she felt different. Was her life force leaving her after all these ages? What could she do? Survival once meant moving from caves to the sewer. Should she move out and seek other cover?

At times, other strange animals came, but didn’t stay long. They did something to the hard, hollow vines in her lair. Hiding was her protection against these animals. She hadn’t thought of them as prey; should she? They could be captured. Why not?

Raking her claws on the walls of her lair sharpened them. Saliva streamed down her chin as she thought of her new prey. This prey would take strength as did larger animals of long ago

Rob and Sid climbed down into the Summit Street sewer. A leak had been reported and they had to inspect for it. Sid was slender, Rob stocky. They started down the tunnel.

About one block along, Rob thought he heard footsteps, the splash of feet in the water. Something large moved off to one side. “Who would want to be down here besides us?” he asked in disgust. “It’s filthy and stinks.”

Sid had moved slightly ahead. He heard Rob’s last words, “…and stinks.” He heard no more. Turning, he glanced back. “What the hell?” Rob had disappeared. “Rob. Rob.” A patch of blood was smeared on the sewer wall, but nothing else.

Sid froze in place. That kind of fear hadn’t ripped though him since Afghanistan when he survived an attack by the Taliban. It all returned like a dreaded dream. His flight response struck in a rush and he started running until he spotted the next metal ladder. Grabbing for it, he climbed upward. In a surge of desperate strength he raised the heavy manhole cover which thumped onto the pavement. Boosting himself onto the night street, he laid still on the cool pavement, sucking in the night air. His heart banged so hard against his ribs it  threatened to burst through.

Within hours, a crime scene unit  searched the sewer. They found no body, just shredded clothing and blood.

It seemed she’d traveled a great distance from the city with the body of her latest prey balanced on her shoulders. At last she found a new cave, actually an old mine. Others like this one she carried were nearby in a small gathering of animal-made caves. She would now have all she needed to survive.

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