Sadistic Teachers and Such!

Hello! The following is a story for our Sunday Photo Fiction prompt (here) of a History class that’s a bit on the unusual side. Slightly disturbing but highly amusing which should make up for it! I hope you enjoy it (or not!) 🙂

 

Genre: Humour/Humor

185-12-december-11th-2016

 

 

Our History Teacher was bit of a sadist. He was trying to teach us his favourite torture methods of the 20th century in comparison to his favourites of 15th century medieval Europe. Suffice to say, we were most definitely not looking forward to this lesson.

He was particularly impressed with how torture techniques had ‘come a long way’ since their peak in medieval times. His favourite modern method involved  a blow torch inserted into a certain orifice and turned on – repeatedly. This was, as he joyously classed it, “pure genius”, and the ideal way to elicit a confession.

We in the class felt unwell. Plus we had to sit through more of this for another 45 minutes.

He gave us a handout. On it were descriptions of common medieval torture devices. Our job was to list them in order of effectiveness. The whole class lost all colour in their cheeks as they read down the list. Our Teacher, on the other hand, gushed uncontrollably.

With just 10 minutes left, my survival seemed imminent. Then he hit us with a homework assignment. We are to invent our own original torture device and the best ‘new method’ wins a prize. Inside, we were groaning as the lucky winner gets to accompany our Teacher on a guided tour of The London Dungeon’s where, as he put it, we can see first hand the marvels of past torture devices.

I don’t know what I’m going to come up with but I’m sure it’s going to be the lamest torture device ever imagined. No doubt Teacher will feel tortured reading it especially as the entire class has got the same idea.

Either way, the ringing bell goes and finally, our misery is over!

 

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The Little Robin’s Angel

Hi All! A sweet little tale of romance which I hope you all enjoy 🙂

Courtesy from Sunday Photo Fictioners with a weekly prompt which you can visit by clicking here!

I hope you like the story 🙂

Genre: Aww, Sweet!

 

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All poor little Robin could do was watch helplessly as the group of Sparrows tucked into the birdseed that the kindly owner of the garden had put out for them.

Robin was sad. He had broken his wing and was now stationary on a garage roof just a few meters away. Sadly, he couldn’t make the short journey to eat the seeds.

Three days had passed and little Robin had nothing to eat. Feeling very weak he laid his head down on the corrugated metal. His energy was zapped and day after day he had watched in envy as the Sparrows tucked in.

On the fourth day little Robin decided to give up. He simply couldn’t reach the bird seed. He accepted his fate and made himself as comfortable as possible.

Robin had no idea how much time had passed, but he awakened to a sound like falling rain. Barely able to move he watched as a small Sparrow flew backwards and forwards from the bird feeder. Robin didn’t know what was happening until he lifted his head right up to take a better look.

Right next to where he lay was a pile of seeds. The Sparrow had carried bird seeds back and forth in its beak and placed them next to his injured self. And only a day after that the kind lady of the house found him and took him in.

Little Robin stayed in the lady’s home for several weeks. Then one day he was well enough to fly, his wing healed. He flew straight to the bird feeder where the group of Sparrows were already eating. He saw the Sparrow who had helped him. And being the gentleman Robin that he was, he waited patiently while she filled her beak with seed. Then he took his turn. So, with an unspoken understanding they sat together and they ate. And after that day, they were never apart. Robin was so glad she had saved his life 🙂

 

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The Boys Have Done It Again!

Genre: Humour/Humor

 

171 09 September 4th 2016

 
“Dave, Dave!” …”DAVE!!”

Bobby screamed as he came shooting round the corner to where his friend sat.

Looking up from his pint – and not in the mood for his pal today – asked what the problem was.

Bobby was now completely out of breath.

“It’s not a problem Dave.…It’s MONEY…money, money, MONEY!!!” ”

Dave’s immediate thought? “Continue my friend“…

…His actual words: “Spit it out then, Moron!”

“Lampposts!”

Dave wanted to cry.

“Lampposts?”

Unable to contain his excitement, Bobby, still trying to catch his breath, continued on.

“The storm that hit last night? It blew down some Antique Lampposts over at the canal walk. 19th Century Lampposts Dave… 19th CENTURY!…. It’s Moneeeeeeeey!!”

Dave’s interest suddenly peaked 10 fold.

“Antiques you say?”

“Yes!”

“Antique Lampposts?”

“Yes!!”

“Alright, lets go”

And off they set for the canal.

Now, what the duo didn’t know, was that the storm…. was due back in 2 minutes.

And as they were about to run off with the ‘Antique’ Lampposts, a 100 mph gust of wind blew the unsuspecting pair off their feet and right into the canal.

But they still held on to those Lampposts.

2 hours later, with the wind subsided, they emerged clambering back out of the water – drenched.

Dave hadn’t the chance to inspect their find. But when he did, he was none too pleased.

“Bobby! These are NOT bloody antiques!!”

“Sure they are Dave” Bob said feeling a little confused. “Why wouldn’t they be?”

Dave was losing the will to live…

“Because, you idiot, it’s got ‘Property of Greenwich Council’ written on it!!”

Oh dear. Poor Bob and Dave, they honestly thought they knew a quick buck when they saw one.

So, really fed up now, a disgruntled Dave squelched his way back to the pub. And Poor soggy Bobby couldn’t understand what just happened:

“I don’t get it. These ARE Antiques, you can tell”.

And to add insult to injury, the storm returned and blew him right back in the canal!  🙂

 

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Hello All! This story is a little bit late and my recent absence is because I’ve entered short-story competitions. It’s been an exciting process especially as it’s a new experience. I’m happy for the opportunity 🙂

So, this story today is from Sunday Photo Fiction’s weekly challenge. And each week the goal is to write 200 words, more or less, from a photo prompt. Click here to visit the site and one week maybe participate yourself?!

See you soon! 🙂

P.s. If you’d like to read more ‘Bob and Dave’ the pretty rubbish criminals, their antics are in two other stand alone stories.

“Boat, Watch Out!!” is found if you Click Here. And…

“Bob, Dave and the ‘Find’ of the Century” is Right Here.

Hope you enjoy! 🙂

Autumn Life

124 10 October 4th 2015

Autumn Life

 

Autumn: cooler weather finally here. The horrid heat of summer finally gone.

The richness of colours: Golds, Auburns, Reds, Browns; all giving the days a new perspective as the Greens have faded out.

Landscapes changing, trees shredding, flowers falling: A new phase. The cool breeze, a sun shining less brightly, skies getting darker, days getting shorter.

Every living thing changing and preparing.

Animals and birds preparing for the winter months. Stocking up on food before the frost. Migrating to warmer shores. The long-haired Cats getting back their fluffy, thick winter coats.

Temperature shifts, flus and colds erupting all around. The itch of Hayfever now at bay.

Fireplaces heating and lighting a room, listening to its crackles, fully immersed watching its flames – hypnotised.

I like this time of year….. And you???! 🙂

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This weeks ‘Sunday Photo Fiction’ . A very apt piccy!  Visit by Clicking Here

Beyond Repair?.. Not

123 09 September 27th 2015

 

Beyond Repair?.. Not

Over the past year: situations, illness’ and marred relationships had piled up – just like a pile-up on a motor track that fully ends a race. Finally, she pulled away from it all and placed it in the past, viewing it as a series of unfortunate happenings.

Starting over isn’t easy, especially if it involves a multitude of aspects in a persons life: social, health, work, spirit, beliefs, faith. If someone is to move on and start afresh, these things need to be restored and some, even reworked.

Everything that has been held dear, what once was believed in and trusted, gone.

Is the heart and soul beyond repair?

…Like the battered racing cars, they will either be crushed or fixed: the dents knocked out, the wheels replaced, the foundation that is the chassis, mended. Patience, hard work and loving dedication, until all that needs to be repaired, is.

I wish I’d of listened to my own counsel and not to the direction of others. But now I do listen to me. And through all the adversity I have suffered, the one thing that I forgot was there came fighting through…

…That which never left:

My strength.

 

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Piccy prompt from ‘Sunday Photo Fiction’. Find others’ stories if you Click Here

 

 

 

 

 

As the Bud, She’ll Grow

As the Bud, She’ll Grow

 

She needed to blossom, but first had to get out of the current predicament that was stifling her growth. Despite being scared to leave the group she decided it was the best way forward for her. Whether she returns only time will tell. For now, though, she needs to be alone with herself to reground and feel all the deep accumulated emotions which had been growing inside her; and the only way out of that darkness was to feel her way through it.

Maybe it hurts to peel away what was. Maybe the flower that emerges from being a bud goes through the same metamorphosis. Maybe it too feels its awakening as a painful process. But the blossoming always comes, it’s a course which is naturally taken; if not, the flower withers and dies.

She doesn’t know whether traversing the darkness will, in time, bring the light. But as the flower grows she hopes she will too. For now she needs to go through the change her situation calls, and like the bud, hopes her blossoming will follow through.

 

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Thanks ‘Sunday Photo Fiction’ for the picture prompt. To read others stories Click Here

Do I Still Love You?

Genre: Romance

 

Clocktower

 

Do I Still Love You?

 

I met him 7 years ago today, right under this Clocktower. So, when I received an email that simply said “Meet me”, I knew it was him and I was flooded with a mix of emotions. I don’t know if he’ll come; I don’t know if we’ll feel the same: Will I still love him? – 7 years is a long time.

As I stand at the very same spot I feel what I’ve felt all this time: Anger, sorrow, confusion, hatred.. love. I just want to know why he left. The week we spent here together I felt undulated happiness like nothing I’d ever experienced. Then he simply vanished.

I didn’t forget him, but thought he had me. I tried looking for him, but came up short every time. Why did he leave is what I want to know. So many questions; alone I couldn’t find a satisfying answer…but I know he will answer them for me – today.

I’m filled with nervousness and anticipation. 5 minutes to go – he’ll either show or he won’t.

“Look up”, I hear a male voice say standing next to me. My heart is soaring because I know it’s him. Now I’m going know for sure, after all this time, what I will feel.

I look up… and I am in love all over again with the pain of the past 7 years gone in a blink of an eye.

I look into those eyes and know deep down in my being that I am finally ‘home’ – just like he had never left.

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This weeks prompt provided by ‘Sunday Photo Fiction’ here