Sunday Photo Fiction: Space Oddities #amwriting #flashfiction #music 


Thanks to Alastair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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Credit: A Mixed Bag
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“Ground control to Major Tom.” 

“Wow, Dad. Look at that space suit. I want to wear it,” William said to Ben.

“Uh, no. Not happening.”

“This is major Tom to ground control / I’m stepping through the door/ [and] I’m floating in the most peculiar way.”

Take the headphones from your ears and listen to your son,” Violet chided.

“I’m listening to William. He wants to wear the space suit and I said he can’t. What else can I say?” Ben asked. 

“Just stop listening to your iPhone and be present,” Violet said rolling her eyes.

“But I have to finish this song. It’s a classic –the theme song to this museum moment.”

“What song Dad?” William asked curious. 

“David Bowie’s ‘Space Oddity.”

“Oh, I love that song, turn it up. Take the headphones out,” Violet said. William nodded in agreement. 

They chuckled before singing out loud: “For here am I sitting in a tin can / [far] above the world / [planet] earth is blue / [and] there’s nothing I can do . . .” until they reached the end of the song. 

When they had finished the three of them looked up surprised to have everyone present at the museum’s space exhibit applauding their singing. 

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“Space Oddity” – David Bowie

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Photo Challenge: Fiction – Spectre of Death #amwriting #fiction #death


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo prompt: 

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Credit: “Minutes to Midnight” – http://www.hunternif.deviantart.com

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Time’s clock is forever ticking above death’s throne. The clock’s glass face absorbes the colours of the landscape where death resides. The greyish-green of the stone mass, a floating island, and the pinky-red fire of the sky above and below, reflects on the clock’s face. 

The figure of death sits soberly in his throne. The stone carved form a perfect fit for his lanky tall body. Beneath death’s left and right hands, the leering skulls of his first two victims sit. They are from our first two ancestors, people who lived exceptionally long compared to the humans living in modern times. Adam and Eve had tried to evade death, even though they knew he was coming for them. They had been ignorant and had no idea what death actually meant until they breathed their last. 

Their souls he’d had to let fly in heaven, gold birds with giant wings exploring their freedom and return to painlessness. He had kept their skulls, though one day he knew he would have to return them. For now, Adam and Eve’s skulls peered eerily out onto whichever soul was before death seated on his throne. Together with the dying person, death watched their last seconds of life tick away. He towered over them in his realm and let their soul sour to heaven or to hell, there was no inbetween except him. 

Some souls who stood before him were not afraid. This always amazed death. He was an imposing figure, giant and fearsome, his red hair as consuming flames, and his eyes burning coals. Some humans gazed up at him with what frightened death as wisdom, something they had gained, which few knew, not even him. Their souls flew away and he knew he would never see them again. Other people crumbled before him and he took time to torment them whether they went below or above. He was death after all, a fearsome being. 

Yet, he had no control where a soul went. Death had no power to choose or to do as he wanted. He had a job, a task. He was death, he killed; but he was not merely an end. He was also the beginning. What he valued most of all, freeing those souls trapped in decaying bodies or in bodies injured profusely. Death was a contradiction of terms, both good and evil. Souls of faith went above and souls of disbelief went down to hades. Even death was afraid of what lay far beneath him in the abyss. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: The Funkey Monkey in The Funky Munky #amwriting #flashfiction #magic


Thank you to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW. 

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TJ. Paris

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The Funky Munky was a magic shop owned by Velma. She lived in the first apartment, above her shop. 

Curtis walked into Velma’s shop one night, he was hallucinating and ill. “Please help me,” he begged, “I think I’ve been poisoned and I’m going to die.”

Velma felt his forehead: “You’ve come to the right place. You’ve been poisoned and I can help you for a favour in return.” 

“Anything.” 

Velma began to add liquids to a glass. She handed the ‘potion’ to Curtis who downed it and passed-out; he awoke the next morning on a couch.

“Do you feel better?” Velma asked him.

“Yeah, I feel fantastic. What did you give me?” Curtis said.

“A Funky Monkey,” Vera said smiling.”It contained Banana Liquor, White Rum, Malibu Rum, Pineapple Juice, and magic dust.” 

 “It was a drink, not a potion?” 

” You were poisoned Curtis. The drink was magical and removed the poison from your body, hydrated you, and made you sleep deeply.” Velma said.

“It’s my favourite alcoholic drink, Curtis. I became ill because I drank too many of them once. Your favour to me was taking away my repulsion for my favourite drink. However, a Funky Monkey will now make you ill if you even smell one.” 

Curtis had no words but Velma had pity on him and snapping her fingers, sent him home to his own bed where he would remember nothing. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.