Rock Star – Friday Fictioneers

AnElephantCant claim to be musical
He sounds like a gruff goat with a very sore throat
You cover your ears
Be reduced to tears
When he tries to hit a high note

Once again it is Friday Fictioneer time.
Presented weekly by rock ‘n’ roll Rochelle, please follow this link for some rhythmic writing by philharmonic fablers.
But first pause to read some off-key atrocity from AnElephant.
The idea is to write a very short story, circa 100 words, based on this picture prompt (below).
That’s it.

Copyright – Björn Rudberg

Copyright – Björn Rudberg

Rock Star

He stands outside the café, wondering if he can afford a meal.
Hey, aren’t you Vincent? Used to be a rock star?
I still am, he lies, I am just resting.
I’m a songwriter, I have a song that is made for you!
Twenty minutes later he knows he is on his way back.
The song is perfect for him.
But he is beginning to resent this man who wants to use him, he could easily have written this song himself.
He smiles his famous smile.
Walk with me, my friend, the cliff path is beautiful this time of night.

Posted in Daft Rhymes, Friday Fictioneer, humour | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 13 Comments

Friendship – Haibun Thinking

AnElephantCant is no longer travelling
He is happily back home in France
But one thing he knows
Wherever he goes
He visits his best friend when he gets half a chance

AnElephant once again launches a one pachyderm assault on this great weekly challenge hosted by his friend Al.
Please take a moment to check out this page to see some superb interpretations of the Japanese Haibun, a literary form which explores the relationship between the human experience and nature.
This week he chooses this literary quote as his topic.
“Friendship is born at that moment when one man says to another:
“What! You too? I thought that no one but myself . . .””
C.S. Lewis (The Four Loves)

Lochwinnoch Bird Sanctuary by AnElephantCant

Lochwinnoch Bird Sanctuary by AnElephantCant

Friendship
He arrives at 10 o’clock for their first meeting in five months, by some distance the longest time they have ever been apart.
There is no strangeness, arms are wide, smiles are wider.
What do you want to do? he asks.
Lochwinnoch, his grandson answers.
He grins, delighted.
The bird sanctuary, the loch, the fresh air and, the bonus, a train journey.
Good call, he says.
He is also happy to see Jack wearing the jacket which was a specific Christmas request.
It was surprisingly difficult to get hold of, requiring the intervention of a friend in the USA to circumvent customs restrictions.
For a present for an 8-year old?
It comes with binoculars and an assortment of things of varying usefulness – boys’ toys.
Two trains and two hundred laughs later they arrive.
They walk the woodland paths and view the loch from various hides where the twitchers are, as always, exceptionally kind to the young enthusiast.
They get as wet and muddy as is humanly possible.
They see a wide selection of feathered creatures, herons and swans, several species of duck and geese, including his favourite Canada Gooses (sorry, AnElephant writes that bit!), robins and wrens, innumerable types of tits and finches, blackbirds and large black birds, and too many others to mention.
Or remember.
Lunch consists of sandwiches and fruit juice on tree stumps overlooking the placid loch.
A day, and a life, can hardly be better.

a mother and a daughter
links a boy and a man
an unbreakable bond

Friends by AnElephantCant

Friends by AnElephantCant

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Isle Be Loving You Always

Desert Island Ele by Phil Burns

Desert Island Ele by Phil Burns

AnElephantCant stay away from interesting islands
He is so happy to be surrounded by sea
You have to go on a boat
Or a plane please take note
When he disembarks he knows he is free

An island can be tiny or gigantic
It may be a place with long summers of sun
If he goes to Australia
AnElephantCant come back paler
And while he is there he can count kangaroos and koalas for fun

Last year when he is on his long North American adventure
He has a trip to Alcatraz in famous San Francisco Bay
When he heads up to BC
A great place to see
He finds Granville Island is the best place to stay

His homeland has about 13,011 different islands
Some big and rugged and some small and cute
Arran and Skye
Have mountains reaching so high
But AnElephant’s favourite as you must know if you ever read his blog is Bute

You also know that he loves the Mediterranean
He visits Kos and Zakynthos and Crete
Ibiza and Minorca
Crete and Mallorca
Romantic isles with sun splashed beaches are really hard to beat

Last year on his birthday his friend Emmy gives him a present
A trip to Porquerolles off the cool Cote d’Azur
Perhaps no great size
But a slice of paradise
AnElephant believes that insular skies are somehow much bluer

Posted in Daft Rhymes, humour, travel | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments

The Garden – Sunday Photo Fiction

AnElephantCant always be very polite
Although he thinks if you fart then you must say pardon
He tries to display good manners
Doesn’t drop any clangers
And writes a wee story about a different sort of garden

This is a weekly invitation to write a short piece of fiction (c. 150 words) based on a photo prompt (below) provided by Alastair.
Just click on the link to wander philosophically through the pastures of perfect peace.
But please first read AnElephant’s madness and mayhem.

Copyright Al Forbes

Copyright Al Forbes

The Garden

The old man smiles to himself as he watches them climb over his wall.
He is restricted in his movement nowadays, but he still tends his trees, plants and flowers faithfully.
The two miscreants are young, maybe 11 or 12 years old.
He knows they are here to steal his prize-winning produce.
He doesn’t mind if they just take a few items to eat, as long as they don’t trample his flowers and pick and discard unripe fruit.
He does not like waste.
He watches as they blunder destructively through his vegetable plot, laughing and shushing each other loudly as they go.
When they reach the strawberry patch he hears one whisper ‘It is very quiet here, Anja’.
Yes, he thinks, that is because my Dobermans do not bark before they attack.

Posted in Daft Rhymes, humour, Other Fiction | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

golden haze

golden haze by anelephantcant

golden haze by anelephantcant

through the tear-stained window
the sunbeam smacks the cushion
dust mites waltz on golden haze
like a cobra soft seducing

he is entranced as she sways too
dancing to unbidden music
his heart is totally bewitched
her grace and joy confuse it

he has no way to contact her
he knows she cannot hear him
his passion is embarrassing
her indifference endearing

it was not always thus of course
long ago he was her equal
he believed he was her leading man
until she rewrote the sequel

at first she pursued him so keen
she the hunter he the hunted
until at last she understood
his frailties soon confronted

now laid quite bare by that sunbeam
his façade is stripped away
and through the tear-stained window
she sees him as clear as day

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

AnElephant Posts Most Ghosts

Ghost by Phil Burns

Ghost by Phil Burns

AnElephantCant deny he’s a scaredy cat
He does not always feel safe in the night
His panic is complete
If some freak in a sheet
Shouts boo and gives him a quite fearful fright

And then he might waken in the darkness
And decide to hide behind his bed-post
He does something wise
He covers his eyes
He does not want to see a g-g-g-g-g-ghost

He decides to rely on technology
Goes out and buys a reliable dead thing detector
Puts it under his bed
If the wee light turns red
It means he is being stalked by a silently supercilious spectre

Now AnElephant is a big sturdy laddie
More like a ton of turkey than a baby-faced bantam
But let’s cut to the chase
He has no wish to face
A fearsome ferocious frenetic fallacious fierce phantom

AnElephant has no desire to cause trouble
He tries to be nice and does not want to stir it
But he starts to worry
Because if he’s in a hurry
He runs fast and tramples folk if he spots a spirit

So perhaps he runs off to a distant far away place
Like New Zealand or even Alaska
Unless once or twice
He meets a wee ghosties who’s nice
Like that cartoon character in Paramount Pictures called Casper

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The Body – Friday Fictioneers

AnElephantCant always be specific
But he finds being vague sometimes works
So when someone is dead
On the floor or in bed
It is very likely sweet Anja is the corpse

Once again it is Friday Fictioneer time.
Presented weekly by rampant Rochelle, please follow this link for some rollicking rumbustious recitals from readily raffish reporters.
But first pause to read some relative rubbish from AnElephant.
The idea is to write a very short story, circa 100 words, based on this picture prompt (below).
That’s it.

Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy

Copyright – Douglas M. MacIlroy

The Body

There is a body in the corner.
A girl, with what looks like a broken neck.
Forbes’ trademark style.
I can’t help her, so I ignore her.
I hear Forbes’ voice through the door to the living area.
Sounds like he is organising the clean up of this latest tantrum.
I push the door open, softly, slowly.
The phone goes down.
I pause.
Then hear the clink of glass.
He is preparing a drink.
No surprise there.
Johnny Walker on ice, I know.
I push the door open.
Cough.
He turns, surprised.
I shoot him, twice.
That is my job.

Posted in Daft Rhymes, Friday Fictioneer | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 38 Comments