Kings have Wings

He looked at his sons huddled around him and started narrating their favorite story for probably the thousandth time.

“My father was a great king. He ruled with an iron fist, but it was necessary for our people to survive. He also formed innovative alliances so that we could remain safe from the miseries of war.

But one day, a usurper came in from nowhere and challenged my father’s right to rule. He  slowly but steadily chipped away at my father’s defenses, till my father was left with no choice but to challenge him to a duel.

It was truly a Battle Royale.

My father fought like a lion. Hours into the lethal combat, father finally saw an opportunity to finish off the challenger, and jumped at him. You should have seen him then. He was flying in the air, like his courage had given him wings.

But unfortunately, nature hadn’t…and gravity did what gravity does. Father fell off the mountain and died, and that conniving cad Simba became the new Lion King.”

Photo prompt courtesy wildverbs

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173 words.

Written as a part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, hosted by Priceless Joy. The challenge is to write a story in 175 words or less, inspired by the weekly photo prompt. For more information visit HERE. To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

Note: Due credit to the God of Humour, PG Wodehouse, for the title, which has been inspired by his book- Pigs have Wings.

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Stairway to Redemption

Photo prompt courtesy John Brand

I looked at the stairs leading up to the Church, and froze.

I remembered how I used to jump up and down those stairs when I was a kid. My mother used to say, “He’s like a little angel, climbing up the stairway to God’s house.”

Somehow, I lifted one foot, and set it upon the first step. A jolt of sharp, almost physical pain, ripped through my body. My face was dripping with sweat by the time I reached the huge Church door at the top.

I pushed it open slowly, and shuffled inside, making my way straight to the confession booth.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” I said softly.

“What is your sin, my son,” asked a concerned voice.

“That I kept quite for so long,” I replied, and then, without me even realizing it, my voice became louder, till it filled the Church and burst out of its seams, till it flew down the stairs like the little angel who used to jump down them, till it reached the ears of the God who had allowed it to happen in his own ‘home’, as I shouted, “And…I….am….not….your….son….you creep!”

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199 words.

Written as a part of Sunday Photo Fiction, hosted by Susan Spaulding. The challenge is to write a story in 200 words or less inspired by the weekly photo prompt. For more details visit HERE. To read more stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

 

The Face that Launched a Thousand Ships

Photo prompt courtesy Sue Vincent

I stared fiercely towards the horizon as tears flew freely down my face. I still could not believe it. Helen….my Helen….gone….just like that.

It was all that rake Paris’s fault, of course. He had been tempting her with his boyish good looks and roguish charm ever since he’d come to Sparta as a guest. And when she refused to give in to his advances, he abducted her from right under our noses.

He had left us with no recourse, I knew. We would have to attack Troy now, with everything we’d got. Preparation were on in full flow right this moment. A thousand ships would sail to get her back, and I would be in the first one of them.

After all, I had the first right on her, an exclusive one in fact.

Her contract with my Design Label clearly said so.

I just hoped my armada of lawyers was enough to stop her from modeling for that Paris at his Fashion Show.

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Written in response to the #writephoto Prompt – Faraway at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

Apocalypse Now

Photo by fotoerich at Pixabay.com

Amidst falling debris, I quickly started the translation software on my computer.

The screen said- WHEN YOU LIFT THE TABLET, AN EARTHQUAKE SHALL DESTROY YOU UNLESS

I kept staring in despair at the frozen screen, which now said-MICROSOFT WINDOWS IS NOT RESPONDING. PLEASE WAIT.

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276 characters.

Written in response to Kat Myrman’s  Twittering Tales #104

The Enemies of Progress

It was a war of ideologies, the future vs. the past.

We wanted to take the world forward, worshiped only progress. Those antediluvian SOBs wanted us to remain mired in the glories of the past.

The worst part was, they actually believed that their supposedly all-powerful ‘Mother’ would be able to stand up to our technological might.

They kept on believing it as we ravaged their fields, drudged their oceans, and leveled their forests.

They kept on believing it till we finally destroyed their ‘Mother Nature’ once and for all, and put her where she rightly belonged…in a museum.

Photo prompt courtesy Sandra Crook

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100 words.

Written as a part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The objective is to write a story in 100 words or less, inspired by the weekly photo prompt. To read many more interesting stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

 

Unplanned Parenthood

Photo prompt courtesy Yinglan

I read the letter again and again, but it still said the same shocking thing. As if in a daze, I called up Dr. Nomura at the Lab on my Ham radio.

“Are you sure about the results?” I asked.

“Believe me, Mr. Takeshi,” the Doctor replied, “We are as stunned as you are. We tested the sample twice. She’s definitely pregnant.”

“But how is that even possible?” I whined.

Dr. Nomura patiently started explaining, “Well, you see, when the male sperm meets the female ovum…”

“I KNOW ALL THAT!” I shouted, “But…but….but…..”

And it was then that I remembered that fateful night.

It had been raining heavily, and I had just finished an entire bottle of Suntory Chita whisky.

Suddenly hearing a loud noise, I’d gone out to investigate, and found a rather large bull shivering with cold.

I’d let him into the barn….where my cow was safely ensconced.

Or so I’d thought.

Till I saw the Lab result that said that my cow was pregnant, and the father was Godzilla.

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175 words.

Written as a part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, hosted by Priceless Joy. The challenge is to write a story in 175 words or less, inspired by the weekly photo prompt. For more information, visit HERE. To read more stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

The Dollhouse

Photo prompt courtesy Susan Spaulding

Connie ushered Natalie inside the small cottage, and exclaimed cheerfully, “See, isn’t this just perfect?”

Seeing no response from Natalie, Connie continued, “It’s a bit of a tight fit, but I’m sure you’ll be extremely comfortable here. We’ll have lots of fun together, just like the old times.”

Natalie smiled slightly at this, remembering all the good times she’d had with Connie. She saw the bed then, exactly the same as Connie’s bed used to be, just bigger. Her eyes moistened as that memory hit her…hard.

She tried saying something, but couldn’t. Connie saw that and her face lit up with a huge smile, as she said, “So you do remember the bed. I thought it was a good touch.”

Natalie’s tears were now flowing freely down her eyes, as she remembered her life with Connie….and Jessica….and Tara….and Lynn……

She’d been good to all of them.

Maybe that was the reason she had become the favorite doll of her favorite dolls after they had taken over the world and turned all humans into their playthings.

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179 words.

Written as a part of Sunday Photo Fiction, hosted by Susan Spaulding. The challenge is to write a story in 200 words or less, inspired by the weekly photo prompt. For more details visit HERE. To read more stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.