A 276 character story for Kat Myrman’s twittering tales photo prompt.
Photo by Alistair MacRobert via Unsplash.com
Jilly tugged her big brother’s hand. “Why’s there a big wind coming out of Mr Roberts’, Darryl?”
Darryl shrugged. “One of his daft inventions probably.”
“Darryl? Can you see a cat’s face at the window?”
Darryl’s eyes narrowed then widened in fear.
“Darryl, where’s the rest of it?”
280 characters or Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales. I don’t know what got into me with this one, honest, nor why I called him Harvey…
Photo by Fabio Santaniello Bruun at Unsplash.com
Jim heaved himself through the manhole gasping for breath the fumes of toxic gas billowing around him. Heavy hands on his shoulders stopped him. Harvey.
“Back you go. The fire’s not out yet.”
With a grin Harvey slammed the manhole cover back in place and hurried back to Jim’s wife.
A 277 character story for Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales
He told her to wait at the end of the hallway. There was nowhere to sit, no music no TV to watch no other candidates to stare at just a row of closed doors. She frowned as a word—Gladiator—jogged a memory. An instant later the doors flew open on a yelling sword-swirling horde.
This cynical little tale (208 characters) is for Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales.
Photo by Couleur at Pixabay.com
I used to be a polar bear but the Fundamentalists told me the theory of evolution was a lie and made me go back to being a frog. I’ll get my own back though—they don’t believe in climate change either. Ha ha!
This 258 character tale is for Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tuesday prompt.
Photo by Dan Gold at Unsplash.com
He pushed through the undergrowth and peered at the sign.
Must be this way, he thought, his stomach rumbling.
He hurried along the trail, thinking about lunch waiting at the end of it.
The trouble with signposts is that everyone can read them. Including bears.
This little 244 character tale is for Kat Merman’s Twittering Tales.
Just terrible bad luck, the inquest said, that she had wandered in during the few seconds the security barrier was down.
The coroner ordered the establishment to clean off the ivy from the plaque that indicated ‘Hopewell Psychiatric Hospital.”
My (vitriolic) contribution in 219 characters to Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales.
photo prompt by kbhall17 at Pixabay.com
The backpackers frowned, not at the plethora of B&Bs but at the street architecture, wondering if there might still be a corner of the planet that was not afflicted with the plague of that particular mass-produced door!