Sunday Photo Fiction: Historian and Pyromaniac #amwriting #flashfiction


Thank you to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

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A Mixed Bag – Alistair Forbes

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“It will never burn. It’s stone and concrete. People don’t build monumental buildings to burn easily these days,” Trent commented.

“Well they used to and this building is pretty old. I’d say it’s eighteen-hundreds,” Chip guesstimated. 

“That old?”

“Yeah, I took some art history so I’d know. Burning this building won’t destroy the whole thing, but it will burn a lot of history within. Maybe it’s like the White House when the Canadian’s burnt it in the War of 1812,” Chip said. 

“Pffff . . . Canadians aren’t that aggressive,”Trent said.

“Oh yeah well why do you think it’s called the White House? Canadians and British soldiers burnt it and the states had to white wash it after rebuilding some parts; white washing covered up the smoke damage and scorch marks.” 

“But wasn’t Canada more a British colony at that point?  So, the fault lies with the British who were leading things,” Trent insisted.

“Many of the soldiers identified as Canadian, Trent,whether or not they were led by Britain; the States shouldn’t have tried to take the Canadas, as upper and lower Canada were known then.” 

“Um, that’s a great history lesson but why do you want to burn this building?” 

Chip’s eyes grew dark, “Some people just like to watch the world burn; but I’m okay with one building . . . to start.”

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

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Maydays: Blank Space #Maydays



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Thanks to K.L. Caley of new2writing for the writing prompt spaces

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” Cause I’ve got a blank space baby, and I’ll write your name . . .”  Taylor Swift played on the radio as Dianne sat at the bar scoping out the possibilities for a good date.

Baldy was cute but not her type. The handsome guy in the tailored suit was probably devoted to his work; he made her shudder. But the guy in jeans and a t-shirt with green eyes was attractive. He seemed more the type of man Dianne was seeking. 

‘Green eyes’ caught her eye across the room and she smiled invitingly. Fifteen minutes later, he made his move to approach her at the table, giving her a freshly poured glass of red wine to drink. It was a nice gesture. Dianne was pleased.

“Hey, how are you?You look beautiful, too beautiful to be sitting here alone. I’m Trent, nice to meet you.” 

Dianne shook Trent’s rough hand with her delicate manicured one. She left her hand lingering in his for a few moments, peeking at him while fluttering her eyelashes. 

“Nice to meet you Trent,” she said, “I’m Dianne, how’s the football game?” Trent grinned. 

“Oh it’s good. Montreal is winning. They’re my team, so I’m happy.”

“Oh, I’m a Saskatchewan fan myself. Grew up that way.” Dianne commented.

“Saskatchewan, huh? Seems like they have fans across Canada. But they stole Edmonton’s coach. I didn’t like that move. It wasn’t a classy thing to do.” 

“Oh, yeah. It was a bad situation…” Dianne didn’t know much about football but she talked with Trent for awhile, nonetheless. 

He appeared to be a nice guy and conversation flowed easily between them after they left the topic of football behind.

Yes, Trent was the kind of guy Dianne craved right now. Solid, stable, a skilled tradesmen. Not a corporate CFO forever working.

“So, can I have your number?” Trent asked Dianne an hour later.

 She smiled stunningly at him.”Actually, I was wondering if you would like to come over for dinner Thursday?” 

“Um, I’m actually busy that night. How about another day this week?”

 Dianne sighed giving Trent ‘Bambi eyes,’ “I’ve got space Thursday, otherwise . . .” 

“Maybe, I can make Thursday work. Let me see . . .” Trent said anxiously scrolling through his calendar on his cell. 

“Oh sorry, Thursday is Evette’s night,” he said shaking his head at Dianne regretfully.

Dianne was sure she was more beautiful than Trent’s Evette. She pouted, “It has to be Thursday.”

“Why?” 

“Well,” Dianne said. “My husbands out of town.” If Trent could be honest about his girlfriend Evette. She could be honest about being married.

“What are you kidding me?” he said alarmed. “I don’t cheat.” 

“Who’s Evette then?” Dianne asked perplexed.

Trent shook his head, disappointed in Dianne.”Evette’s my niece and she’s four-years-old. It’s too bad you’re a cheater. I feel sorry for your husband. ” 

Dianne was shocked. Men never turned her down despite the fact she was married; she was gorgeous. 

But that didn’t make her husband Richard pay attention to her. Dianne knew he had an affair occurring with his personal assistant Joy.

She sighed in agitation. Thursday was a blank space, or perhaps; Dianne could find another guy to keep her from being lonely that night. 

Her eyes roamed the crowded bar and found her next target.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.