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I agree, John, this is a difficult one. I’ll have to think about it.

Some influence comes from writers whose style I don’t like. I make mental notes not to do things like ‘whoever’ (they’ll remain nameless :-))

Then there’s the memory of a feeling a book created at the time I read it.  They include authors I couldn’t or don’t feel drawn to read…[Read more]

Fabulous blog, Richard. Chanson is so little known outside of France. People think they know it because they’ve heard a recording of Non, je ne regrette rien or maybe they know that Seasons in the Sun is a translation (sort of) of a Jacques Brel number. It’s hugely popular in France. Travel to any town and go out and about on market-day. Every…[Read more]

Perhaps I should make it clear this is just one line intended as a prompt to build a story on, from a collection of poetical, random lines, in a pocketbook entitled ‘Distance and Proximity’.

Wow, Libby, and thank you, a big surprise, especially as I’d already identified winners 1,2 and 3 and, my laptop having died and been taken away, and only having my ancient, over-full and steaming one, I wasn’t checking as often as I have been. I’ll try and come up with something as interestingly challenging as the last few have been.

@ Libby, thanks for the feedback. It was a great prompt.

I enjoyed all the entries and how varied the stories were.

@Sandra, congrats!

The formatting isn’t great – sorry.

<p style=”text-align: center;”><b>Behind Closed Curtains</b></p>
‘Jimmy look, that rude electrician is back!’ Marjorie adjusted her glasses and squinted towards the bungalow. ‘And he’s wearing that t-shirt again, you know, the orange one with large red letters saying Bog Off You Nosy Neighbour!’ She poked her tongue out in the general direction of…[Read more]

Brutal

Graham was beside himself. Furious, speechless, incandescent with rage. They had demolished the ancient well in his garden, thrown the centuries old stonework down inside, and constructed a former which showed their intention to pour footings a full twenty metres from where the summerhouse should be. He leaned forward and peered down. All…[Read more]

Fallen

I messed up.

In the worst way.

The building site was wrong. How could I have made such an amateur mistake? Because I was an amateur, that’s why. No man who has spent his life in the Alaskan mountains could know how to build in the Caribbean. And not a simple house, but a castle. The mosquito bites on my back provided evidence this was my…[Read more]

July monthly comp reminder – three more days to post an entry 🙂

Tell a story of building work that suffers some kind of mix up. The wrong site, the wrong builder – anything you like.

Deadline midnight 31st July.

300 words maximum

The Mausoleum

… The star broke down as wife Stephanie’s casket was taken into the mausoleum. The stone masterpiece, testament to their love, could have been fashioned by Wren …’

Justin Mallory’s architect had also been proud of the secret panel to facilitate re-entry: stone-clad, freed by hidden lock and latch. Justin pocketed the key. He swiped…[Read more]

Hi Janette – as discussed, it’s gone. Feel free to post again when ready.

Ath.