FlashDogs

Angry Hourglass #64 - Flash Master

Oh me, oh my! One of my aims this year was to win Angry Hourglass at least once and I've gone and done it with last Sunday's story. Flippin' made up, I am.

FlashMast 100

Surprised to win it with a story that was almost all dialogue, but it must have hit a spot with the judge - the wonderful
Voima Oy (who happened to win AH last week).

The winner's podium comprised three flash dogs, and more incredibly two writers from the same writing group - Poised Pen. I wonder if that has been done before? The link to the winner's page is here, go over and read all the stories.

Below is the photograph prompt from Ashwin Rao and my story is reproduced here too.
Vinyl - Ashwin Rao 200
Photo credit: ashwin rao


Taking Names

‘That was something beautiful.’ said the stranger, as Sam left the stage.

‘Err, thanks. Like a bit of Phil Collins do you?’

‘Who doesn’t?’ said the man, preening his scarlet jacket. ‘Who you with?’

‘Just waiting for a mate.’

‘No, I mean who’s representing you? You’re recording, right?’

Sam laughed. ‘Hardly, working down the takeaway.’

The man leant forward. ‘You telling me you’re available, that I can sign you up? Because you’ve a talent I can do something with.’

Sam stepped away. ‘I’ll have what you’ve been drinking. You’re seriously off it! It’s just karaoke.’

‘I’ll get you whatever you like. But I’ve got to sign you up. Here’s my card.’ he said, smoothly taking it from behind Sam’s ear.

‘Mr Lyle, what’s the B?’

‘Brian.’

‘I’m Sam Bailey. You don’t look like a Brian, Brian. ’

‘Who does? I’ll take you to my record shop, show you who I’ve produced. Got the rights to so many people you’ll know. Honest, I guarantee you a hit like this.’ Brian flicked his fingers, producing a smoking cigar from thin air.

‘Hey, we can’t smoke in here!’ Sam said, nervously.

‘You can. You’re a star, Sam. You can do what you want. Need to do something about your name though.’

Sam couldn’t remember leaving the club but found himself in an old fashioned record shop with Brian.

‘Take a look while I think about your name. All these records, all these artists, are mine.’

John Belushi singing “Soul Man” started playing as Sam excitedly flicked through the beautiful vinyl.

‘Yazz “The Only Way is Up” - mum’s got this!”

'Did well, like I told her. She was wrong, of course.'

‘Look, I’ll sign. Bit of a laugh. Even a one hit wonder would be amazing,’ said Sam. He was being swept away by the vinyl euphoria, as he signed the contract. ‘Don’t even care if you’re a rip off merchant.’

‘You’ve got “One Direction”!?’

‘Yep, gave them an extended contract. Nice boys, well some of them. Just started taking them down now one by one. One Direction: indeed.’

‘Well, you’ve got me now, Brian.’

‘Call me Belial, or Lucifer if you prefer.’ said Belial.


Angry Hourglass - 19 April 2015

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Flash Week: Microbookends, FFF and AH

Well, I didn't have a really prolific week last week. Started some or thought I'd do a few more - like Finish That Thought and Thursday Threads - but in the end last week just saw me finishing Microbookends, Flash Fiction Friday and Angry Hourglass. The latter two are the ones I am keenest to try and do come what may!

Microbookends I couldn't format as I wanted as I wasn't sure how to put it into the correct HTML code as I wanted it presented in four columns. I had to present it as a single column instead. Ho hum. Anyway the way I wanted it to look is below. The piece as ever has to start and end with the prompted words - in this case Peace and Prize - and be between 90 and 110 words.

A-Z of War and Peace: X and Make Up

PeacePrize

I managed to get
Flash Fiction Friday done. And was quite happy with it. Though someone pointed out that the last minute addition of the footnote had taken me over the word count. Which is a shame because it didn't need the note - though I quite liked it. (more ho humming).

As for the
Angry Hourglass I've no ho humming. Just up against some very talented guys and gals (very very well attended by the Flash Dogs).

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Flash Fiction Friday double header

Flash! Friday Fiction - Stories x 2

Flash Fiction Friday is one of my have flash comps and last week (10th October) as part of the Flash Dog challenge I had to write two - yes two! - stories instead of one. The picture was this one of some poor ill child being visited by some creepy clowns (all clowns are creepy you know!). Here are my two stories inspired by the photo. Both are 160 words short.


circus-clowns-visit-sick-boy-boston-public-library

It’s All About Timing

There is nothing quite so soul sappingly depressing as a clown with self confidence issues apart from perhaps a whole troupe of them.

The troupe from The Great Tortellini Circus found themselves in one of the many Jacksonville’s when they had all reached rock bottom together. Smaller paler imitations of themselves looked back from the mirrors in the make up tent, their faces painted thick with smiles splattered wide across their cracked white faces wouldn’t fool anyone, least of all themselves. They were all now officially not nearly as funny as toothache.

They knew they had to get out of the rut. Perhaps they should just get fired out of the state by the giant canon. At least that may get a laugh from the audience.

When Tortellini went in for surgery, after the accident involving the lion and the broom handle, the clowns finally tried to run away from the circus. They were too far gone to recognise irony.


What do you want to be when you grow up?


The four men stood before young Charlie Dunnings, who had recently had his appendix removed. He laughed at them, which they appreciated. The art of laughing at clowns was a dying art.

Charlie laughed and laughed as the clowns squirted flowers in their own faces, beeped horns and slipped on imaginary banana skins. He laughed until his sides hurt.

The nurses would drive out the men who seemed taller on the way out of the ward, buoyed by their time with him. Clowns everywhere heard about Charlie and his wonderful powers, he healed their bruised egos with his laughter. Queues of unsure clowns lined the hospital waiting to see him. They really were funny, Charlie proved it; and it was cheaper than paying for therapy.

Once Charlie had his medication correctly adjusted he no longer laughed at the ridiculous sad men. When he asked one of them ‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’ they stopped coming.




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