Three Line Tales: One use for a dead star

A short story for Sonya’s Three Line Tales photo prompt.

photo by Marc-Olivier Jodoin via Unsplash

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The Creator looked down on the high-rises that sprouted like fungus over the planet, the planes that swarmed in the skies where birds used to fly.

The oceans were mounting, land receding, and the battle between rich and poor for the diminishing resources was on a global scale.

“Cancer is a sad fact of life,” the Creator said, “time to cut this one out,” and picking up a dead star, she blocked up the hole in the universe through which the rejected life forms had escaped.

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Microfiction: Grail

A 100 word story for Rochelle Wisoff’s Friday Fictioneers.

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

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He looked down with distaste on the crowds milling around the souvenirs.

You’d never think this place had been a church once.

Of far more value than the artworks on display and guarded with the most elaborate security systems was what was hidden in the crypt.

The cretins don’t even know there is a crypt.

Well, he did, and he knew how to get in. He slipped into the shadows of the gallery and waited, dreaming of the Grand Master’s gratitude when he handed over his prize, how the world would change, and how it would be thanks to him.

#writephoto: Flight

This little story is for Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt.

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They halted on the road because she was tired and the baby needed feeding. He looked back the way they had come nervously. There was only a line of low hills between them and the town. He’d have preferred a mountain range. Or an ocean.

“It’ll be fine,” she said as she settled down and undid the front of her robe. “He said nothing would happen to us.”

Her husband looked at the glow in the sky that meant the town had been torched. “Not to us, maybe.”

She looked up in irritation. “But we got out in time, and that’s the main thing.”

“He also said that this could happen again.”

She shrugged. “But we’ll be looked after, whatever happens.”

“Doesn’t it make you…uneasy?”

“Look,” she said wearily, “it’s unfortunate about…the others—”

“The babies,” he specified.

“All right! The babies! But it can’t be helped. He’s more important. Look at him,” she smiled down at her baby son. The child paused in his suckling and raised his head, fixing the worried-looking man with a piercing blue stare. “Now tell me you’d put his life at risk for a bunch of insignificant babies that were probably already more than their parents could cope with.”

Her husband tore himself away from the baby’s blue-eyed gaze and looked back at the mounting flames.

“I hope you’re right,” he said.

“Of course I am,” his wife said, fastening her robe and getting to her feet. “Now, hold Jesus while I get back on the donkey. We’re not out of the woods yet.”

#Three Line Tales: Fresh start

This short story is for Sonya’s Three Line Tales, based on the photo prompt © Fabio Mangione via Unsplash

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Before they left, they made sure everything was neat and tidy, fresh paint on the façades, the boats on the canal toe to tail as if for an admiralty inspection.

They knew in their heart of hearts they wouldn’t be coming back, but they wanted to take a picture of peace and prosperity with them to treasure in the darkness of the unknown.

As the new day dawned and the departing rockets merged with the sunlight, the clocks, set back a hundred years by the cosmic fairy godparents, ticked into motion again, and humanity crawled out of its post-apocalyptic slumber ready to make a second attempt at getting it right.

Twittering Tales: The face at the window

A 276 character story for Kat Myrman’s twittering tales photo prompt.

Photo by Alistair MacRobert via Unsplash.com

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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?”

#Three Line Tales: And the result is…yes!

In the light of Ireland’s abortion referendum on Saturday, there can be only one story behind this photo—Sonya’s Three Line Tales photo prompt.

photo by Julian Lozano via Unsplash

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Night falls on the sport’s field where the campaigners for change wait with bated breath for the result of the referendum to appear on the big screen, the referendum that will decide whether the country is prepared to take women’s rights seriously.

They wait with the fear in their guts that the power of the priest and the over-bearing weight of tradition will screw a ‘no’ vote out of the vast majority of the rural population.

In the early hours of Sunday morning, the anguish of waiting is over, and the result flashes up on the screen—yes!