puglife

“Execute this foul creature post haste,” the King commanded.

Heads in the throne room twisted about to see who among them had been condemned. The young squire of a visiting Knight trembled in fear at the end of the King’s authoritative gaze.

“Friends do you not smell the stench? This young man has spoiled himself where he stands.”

The entire Royal Court began to take notice of the small throne room being quickly enveloped in the fragrance of sewage.

“Quickly now. We shall resume council in the east wing dining room.”

Strong guards seized the young man ignoring the pleas for mercy and innocence from his Knight. He was promptly beheaded in the square.

That evening as the maids were cleaning the throne room the stench remained.

The keenest nosed among them was determined to track the smell. She was lead to the King’s own royal cushion. There a dark brown stain was found, crusted deep into the intricate embroidery. A pact thick as a bloodline sisterhood was instantly bestowed upon the women. No one who valued their life would breathe a word of the royal shat. Not that you wanted to breathe in there anyway.

Henry VIII’s throne, Dover Castle, UK

Henry VIII’s throne,
Dover Castle, UK

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Sunday Photo Fiction – July 19th 2015

spf

July 20th, 2015

Posted In: Short Stories, Sunday Photo Fiction

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greypouon

Jacques stared defeated at his dropped steaming kielbasa. There it lay, gathering gravel and dirt.

“I’ll kill you Maurice.”

A jar of mustard thrown shattered on the ground staining the meat an off yellow.

“My Dijon will live forever Auguste!” A second jar of mustard thrown broke upon the cobblestone in the same place.

Jacques stood transfixed, ignorant of the surrounding chaos.

Crowds stomped the pavement in pursuit of one another.

Jacques lifted the dripping link with his fingers. He hesitated only a moment before taking a bite.

A smile emerged through lips dripping with mustard.

Grey Poupon was born.

PHOTO PROMPT- © Sandra Crook

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July 17th, 2015

Posted In: 100 Word Stories, Friday Fictioneers, Short Stories

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indianajones

Delphine always wanted to pilot her father’s plane and when he forgot his keys on her tenth birthday, she knew that taking off would be easy.

Delphine was a spoiled ten year old with rich parents and her dad was a pilot.

She always wanted to fly his plane around the area.

On her birthday her dad lost his keys and she knew that today was her big chance.

She scavenged the house for an hour until she found them under her dad’s bed.

“THIS IS GOING TO BE AWESOME!!” Delphine shouted in excitement as she put on her jacket.

She started the engine and took off from her backyard. But after flying for a while the engine stopped and she plummeted into a mountain.

“BOOM!!!” She woke up from a dream in terror and decided never to fly a plane ever again.

 


This MFTS entry is from my step daughter Sarah. She is 10 years old and full of razor sharp whit. She has shown interest in taking up the baton here at our writing domain. So we support her efforts and look forward to more stories from her. – Danny (Read more Sarah Stories).

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Mondays Finish the Story – July 13th, 2015

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

mondays-finish-the-story

July 15th, 2015

Posted In: Mondays Finish the Story, Short Stories

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aircraft-547105_1280

Delphine always wanted to pilot her father’s plane and when he forgot his keys on her tenth birthday, she knew that taking off would be easy.

That night she made her play, sneaking out while her Father was out flying an emergency delivery for the Post Office using their plane.

It was easy as they lived in an old converted hanger right on the airfield.

Sitting in the pilot’s seat she eyed all the controls and went through the motions she saw her father do hundreds of times.

No matter how much she begged he never let her fly.

The small single prop rumbled to life tensing her tiny body in fear from the violent vibrations.

‘This was stupid,’ she thought to herself.

The engine promptly died as the passenger door opened.

“Going somewhere birthday girl?” her father smiled as he fitted himself into the passenger seat.

Delphine was silent and ready for a thrashing. Her father calmly buckled his seatbelt and pushed the starter.

“Passenger is ready,” they smiled at each other as she took her first night solo flight.


 

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Mondays Finish the Story – July 13th, 2015

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

mondays-finish-the-story

July 14th, 2015

Posted In: Mondays Finish the Story, Short Stories

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stargate

“Don’t you do it 761. They will pull your license for good this time,” the radio voice squawked.

“761 going into the Television. Over.” The pilot of 761 pulled the yolk and slammed the throttle forward. The plane’s small prop engines whirred loud and fast.

The Television is what “Plane Stunters” called the rectangular space created by the upper walkways and the lower part of the Tower Bridge in London.

There are a few forbidden zones for stunt planes around the world. The Grand Canyon, the Gateway Arch in St Louis, the Eiffel Tower, touch and goes on the Great Wall of China; just to name a few.

Crowds on the top catwalk gathered quickly looking down on the small planes fast approach. Excited young faces rushed to the other side as the small planes engines roared across the threshold.

The crowd did not see 761 emerge on the other side.

To the surprise of everyone the defining noise suddenly dissipated. 761 was gone. Vanished. Swallowed up by the very air they were all breathing.

* * *

The pilot of 761 awoke to voices. His head throbbing.

“Amelia he just came through the gate,” a male voice said.

Tower Bridge, London

Tower Bridge, London

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spf

July 13th, 2015

Posted In: Short Stories, Sunday Photo Fiction

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