A Selfish Man

 

There he stands. Looking through the uppermost turret window at the vastness of his courtyard. He feels so proud. Proud of what he has achieved.

“Daddy, Daddy, look what I’ve drawn for you”!

He remembers a time when this was all he wanted. To be the king of his own castle. He thinks of his wife. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She is on his arm. Life can’t get better than that.

“Daddy? I’ve drawn you something”

The pride within him threatens to explode.

Turning from the window he makes his way to the breakfast room to sip coffee and read the morning news.

The child follows him.

What a life this man has. Everything he ever wanted.

…“daddy?”

 

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This is a sad tale that is inspired by the thoughts in my mind over the past couple of days. This Photo Prompt (provided by The Magicsticgoldenrose) is for the Weekly Flash Fiction Challenge over at FFFAW hosted by Priceless Joy. Read other’s interpretations here or click on the blue button below 🙂

Need a Predator??…..Call me

 

 

 

Predator For Hire

Private Investigator. Hitman. Spouse Disposal. Bodyguard. Debt Collector.

65 years experience.

 

Do you need to find out if your husband IS cheating? I’ll track your partner from dusk til dawn. I only charge for my investigative services. If I find that he IS cheating, then Husband dismembering and disposal are free – you’ve been through enough.

You’re owed money? I’ll use intimidation tactics first. If that fails then I will cause bodily injury. And if that fails I’ll simply dispose of the debtor and take what is owed. But rest assured, I WILL get your money.

Any confrontations requiring backup? I’ll just stand there until the problem is resolved.

If these sound like YOUR problems and you need my help: Please Call 07*** ***486. As I’m a Predator and don’t require sleep, call me ANYTIME – I’m available 24 hours a day.

First consultation FREE.

 

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Another fun Photo Prompt…Wouldn’t it be great to have a Predator to do battle on our behalf?! I know I’d employ him!  

Every Sunday at ‘Sunday Photo Fictioners’ a new pic serves as the prompt. The idea is to write a story based on that pic – however subtle or obvious – and to write roughly 200 words, (give or take a few). Click the Blue Froggy below to check out the Stories for this week, and to visit the prompts home 🙂

Daily

Oh my word!! This is the most awesome quote about blogging I have Ever heard. I just Had To reblog!! 😃

HarsH ReaLiTy

You might be a blogger when…
You have over 55,000 subscribers and the only people coming to your birthday party are family.

-Opinionated Man

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Bleedin’ Traitors’ Gate

What an excruciatingly paranoid time it was. Persecuted Queens accused of treason. And Men accused of plotting against their Kings. For Royals, even with their wealth and power, couldn’t escape the secret games against their lives. Yes, some were founded on truth, but many out of mere delusion.

Heads on stakes dangling from bridges, an ominous sight indeed. It was for the pleasure of those who crossed the Thames to what awaited them: their own imprisonment in the Tower of London. They’d be incarcerated until seen fit for their own heads to eventually join those that hung from London bridge.

Poor Queen Anne Boleyn. Accused of treason and adultery. And Incest with her brother. As she crossed the water to Traitors Gate the staked heads hung as a reminder of her own unavoidable fate. The following months of imprisonment led her to insanity: Hysterically crying one moment, and laughing wildly the next. And so it remained until her head too joined the display.

Princess Elizabeth got lucky. She only visited for a few weeks. Exonerated on the grounds of false arrest that sealed her release. However, she was sure to make it so that her own traitor would pay. And her sister, ‘Bloody Mary’, did indeed pay. With her own Imprisonment and the steely axe.

A bloody time indeed it was. Royals with their power, prestige, and money were not even safe. And If they themselves weren’t safe, then what of the everyday, ordinary folk? Were their lives as unpredictable and bloody?

Traitors Gate at the Tower remains with tourists daily flocking to see. Does it serve to tell the history of England’s past? Or maybe something else? Perhaps it’s a reminder of what will happen if you think to cross our Royal Queen?

It might be a bit of both 🙂

 

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A fab photo prompt that got me writing about a point in history that I’ll never understand. The details yes, but the brutal behaviour?? That’s the bit of humanity I’ll never comprehend – present-day bloodshed included.

Sunday Photo Fictioners 

Unmoored – The best outcome

Unmoored – An apt way to describe how they eventually treated her.

She was thrown into a situation she didn’t want to be in. She repeatedly told them she did not want to be part of their ‘team’. But they kept badgering her, how it would benefit her in the long run. I could see that her wishes were falling on deaf ears. A male member of the ‘team’ came onboard telling her the same thing, too ignoring her wishes.

She met the rest of the ‘team’ and the alarm bells rang louder. But, every time she tried to leave, they would tell her it was what she needed.

So, she became ‘friends’ with them and did what they said. Eventually, she believed that they really did care and that all along she was the problem.

One day, after several weeks of no contact, she wondered why these ‘friends’ no longer replied. What had she done wrong? Nothing. Except she became stronger.

Eventually, she saw them for what they were. And her strength got her through and out of that environment. I’m proud of her and do wish it happened sooner. Sometimes though, rescuing others is not always in their best interests. They need to see it for themselves.

And what happened to the ‘team’? Whatever ultimately happens to those types who prey on people. But to be honest, I don’t give a damn and she doesn’t either. I’m just glad she got out and is living the life she wanted in the first place.

 

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Hi! 🙂 This is another installment of the Daily Post Prompt, which for today is the word ‘Unmoored’. 🙂  

Precipice

Sometimes I feel that my writing is about to take a nose dive off of a very steep cliff. Maybe I should free fall and just see where the wind guides me. I guess it’s then up to me, as I’m falling anyway, to choose a better decent. That sounds negative, but I’m going down regardless, so I may as well make it as comfortable as I can.

The last few days my words wouldn’t come. I could think of nothing much to write. And what I did do, was done in haste and I was unhappy with it. Today is the same, I couldn’t find anything to say. So, as I was falling off the ledge anyway, I thought of a way to make the most of it… And this is what I have.

I don’t want that steep drop to beat me as it has done in the past. Months without writing because I had broken too many bones when I hit the ground. This piece may not be much good, but I’m the one in control of the descent… for today at least.

I don’t know what picked me back up before. Maybe because I didn’t quit. And I hung in there. Perhaps.

I may never write a good story again. But then again, I might. It’s just painful when I can’t sit and write. I care enough and I guess that’s why it hurts.

Hopefully, this fall won’t shatter me too badly again. And on hitting the ground, maybe I’ll be lucky and get away with just bruises this time. And if I can crawl back up relatively uninjured then free-falling into the wind might be the answer. That’s what I hope.

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Today, The Daily Post provided the word prompt: Precipice. If you’d like to visit the prompt page and read other’s fab words, you can do so by Clicking Here 🙂

Chosen? Noooooo!

 Genre: Humour/Humor

 

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

photo: © Barbara.W.Beacham

Chosen? Noooooo!

 

The petroglyphs told the story of an unusual event, yes, they certainly did. it was the bi-yearly event that always sent waves of joy, and fear – (for good reason), – across all the land. It was indeed that time again, time for the second annual event, which people rejoiced in, (or plain dreaded), for the mating ritual of the holiest of holiest: The Sacred Pigeons.

Each of the 12 Tribe-Leaders eldest son’s had the unenviable task of potentially becoming the ‘Chosen’ one. They would all form a circle and the most revered Pigeon of them all  (the grey one) would fly high above their heads. The one it decided to crap on, was then, by rights, ‘Chosen’.

The Sacred Pigeon mating ritual is a symbol of abundance, good fortune, health and fertility. But to the ‘Chosen’ one, it’s none of these things. As the official mating overseer – (making sure it goes smoothly and having enough birdseed on hand for when the Pigeons took their break) – to him, this was nothing more than complete embarrassment, utter humiliation, plain bad luck and unequivocal misery. One thing he was sure of – he’ll never be the same again 😀

 

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I wrote this story a little while ago. Hopefully, it fits in well with today’s Daily Post Prompt ‘Farce’. If you Click Here you can visit The Daily Post and see what these Daily Prompts are all about as well as to have a read of other’s take on today’s prompt 🙂

(This was originally posted in 2014)