HAIL STORM

 

 

Photo Copyright: Jules Paige

Happy New Year 2018 to all! Let’s hope it’s far better in many ways than 2017.

This story was written for Sunday Photo Fiction–December 31st, 2017. 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 sent in by Jules Paige. Thanks, Jules.

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/2017/12/31/sunday-photo-fiction-december-31st-2017/

Genre: Speculative Fiction

Word Count: 200 Words

HAIL STORM by P.S. Joshi

It was a summer when temperatures soared above 99 degrees. A huge metal dish sped over fields worldwide too rapidly to be detected.

The next day hail began to beat down and continued for an hour.

In the state of Illinois Jed Smith’s son, Bobby picked up one of the hunks of ice and examined it.

“Hey dad, there’s little black specks in this stuff.”

His father paid little attention.

“Don’t fret son. It’s probably dirt from the factory. That place spews it out most of the day.”

The rains began and the fields turned green with the new shoots. Unlike other years, there were black shoots as well. Agricultural labs in most countries tested them.

When soaked and ground they produced a charcoal-like substance that was found to clear the air. Filters containing the powder were produced and placed all over the world.

On Planet X28 the scientists were joyful. Their experiment had worked.

“Now,” said one scientist, “we’ve cleaned the air on the water planet and can send ambassadors there to negotiate terms. The inhabitants of that planet need our help before they totally destroy it.”

Specialists in the U.S. Space Program began receiving messages.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

STRIKE

Since it’s Christmas, I’ve decided to publish a story I wrote last year about this time. I didn’t reblog it as I didn’t want to erase some of the introduction I wrote at that time, so I’ve just retyped it. Enjoy, Happy Holidays, and a great New Year 2016 to all of you.

STRIKE By P.S. Joshi

All was not well at Santa’s workshop high in the town of Mountainous. Most people think the workshop and village sit right at the North Pole, but that’s a myth. For security reasons, it’s high in the mountains of Alaska and well-fortified.

The elves had done something strange, they’d gone on strike. This was a new breed of elves, different from their forefathers. They demanded more than minimum wage. They also wanted free food service, shorter hours, and longer breaks. Housing and free education for their children weren’t enough anymore.

The head elf said, “We dedicate our lives to serving Santa. It’s only fair we have our demands met.”

They used an elf gorilla tactic.  It was called,  “Waiting until December”.

Santa lost his temper for the first time in over two hundred years. It did no good. The elves stood firm.

Their lawyer said, “We’ll take it to the Supreme Court. It’ll make the TV news, and there’ll be a scandal.”

Mrs. Claus was worried. Santa was losing weight. It would spoil his public image. She hadn’t heard a “Ho, ho” in days. She convinced him to sit down at the negotiating table.

Santa finally gave in to the terms and all was settled.

STRIKE

 

This is my contribution to Sunday Photo Fiction for December 21, 2014. Every Sunday a new picture prompt is given. The weekly challenge is to write an original story with no more than  200 words. It’s supposed to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt for the week.

The link for all other stories is as follows:

http://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2014/12/21/sunday-photo-fiction-december-21st-2014/

Genre:  Humor Fiction

Word Count:  200 Words

STRIKE By P.S.  Joshi

All was not well at Santa’s workshop high in the town of Mountainous. Most people think the workshop and village sit right at the North Pole, but that’s a myth. For security reasons, it’s high in the mountains of Alaska and well-fortified.

The elves had done something strange; they’d gone on strike. These were a new breed of elf, different from their forefathers. They demanded more than minimum wage. They also wanted free food service, shorter hours, and longer breaks. Housing and free education for their children weren’t enough anymore.

Head elf said, “We dedicate our lives to serving Santa. It’s only fair we have our demands met.” They’d used an elf gorilla tactic and waited until December.

Santa lost his temper for the first time in over two hundred years. It did no good. The elves stood firm. Their lawyer said, “We’ll take it to the Supreme Court. It will make the TV news, and there’ll be a scandal.”

Mrs. Claus was worried. Santa was losing weight. It would spoil his public image. She hadn’t heard a “Ho, ho” in days. She convinced him to sit down at the negotiating table.

Santa finally gave in to the terms.