Welcome to Four Line Fiction, a pix-to-prose challenge. Each Tuesday, at 9:00am Eastern Time (Canada/United States) I will post an image I have captured myself, featured from another blog or plucked from one of the Interweb’s many royalty-free image sites. You as the writer are to use that image as a point of inspiration to craft a masterpiece of fiction in four lines.
Peter Dazeley / Getty Images
This week’s image contains a Burmese python, resplendent in shades of yellow, black and brown. Its head is perched atop a single chicken egg and its body is coiled around the egg and off to the right of the image. The subject is set against a black background
Be creative and have fun. I look forward to reading the tales you spin. Don’t forget to show your fellow bloggers some love -❤️- take some time to read, like, and comment on their masterpieces.
As I sit down to write Sunday Digest late on this Sunday night it occurs to me that it has been a busy week. The blog itself started the week okay but as the activities and time required with my son ramped up my work here fell off. School is out and that means my days are filled with bike rides, Lion Safari’s and stopping at every park I see.
On Friday we took Nate to African Lion Safari, an animal rescue and reserve where you get to ride through the animal enclosures in your car. The lions and tigers are usually sedate. Mostly because they have been so well fed they cannot move. The Orangutans are Nates favorite. Especially the one who decided to jump up on our car and pee down the windshield. I know little boys and the things that excite them!
He also loves the waterpark they have for the kids to play in. It is a great spot on a hot day and he spent almost three hours in the water. Running on the play structures and riding the slide. He is a little Casanova too. The kid will talk to just about anyone but gravitates to the prettiest moms and starts up full conversations with them. Even at the mall or in a restaurant before we finish he has the clerks or waitresses gathered around while he holds court!
Also this weekend I have been busy canning strawberry jam and relishes. I also set a a crick with 4 lbs. of cucumbers. Hopefully in about a week I will have fermented dill pickles. In the meantime, I made a couple of jars of refrigerator pickles to hold us over. It was Nate who noticed the happy face in the jar of pickles.
I dug deep into my Madchester sounds record collection this week to find this classic. James were a Manchester band who are best known on this side of the pond for the title track of their 1993 album “Laid”. The track initially found success on U.S. college radio before peaking at No. 3 on U.S. Alternative Radio.
The week in review…
Choices A tales of choices written by Paula at Light Motifs II.
Milestones | Just some stuff about my blog stats and some new records in 2023.
T-Shirt Wisdom | The most recent installment of this bi-weekly feature.
Next week…
Five Word Weekly has already dropped about 3 hours ago and Four Line Fiction is on tap for Tuesday. Don’t forget to get your entry in for July’s Creative Writing Monthly, July 31st is almost here. Have a great week everyone,
Welcome to Four Line Fiction, a pix-to-prose challenge. Each Tuesday, at 9:00am Eastern Time (Canada/United States) I will post an image I have captured myself, featured from another blog or plucked from one of the Interweb’s many royalty-free image sites. You as the writer are to use that image as a point of inspiration to craft a masterpiece of fiction in four lines.
This week’s monochromatic image features a black bikini set against a sandy beach background. Although the top portion is slightly askew the bikini is configured as if it was being worn.
Be creative and have fun. I look forward to reading the tales you spin. Don’t forget to show your fellow bloggers some love -❤️- take some time to read, like, and comment on their masterpieces.
For years the S.O.B. told me I had no sense of direction, the worst navigator he’d ever seen. How was it my fault he’d go left when I said right?
“Where is my breakfast, what did you get lost?” The prick used to tell me he was amazed I could find the kitchen in the mornings.
Being berated for my navigation skills was the easy stuff. He’d get absolutely incensed and take every opportunity to make me feel like I was six inches tall, worthless. I can assure you I had no trouble finding the rat poison he kept in the cellar. Extra Warfarin in his scramble to go with his prescription.
That was then, but as I attempt to jump a train to freedom I’m left wondering if I will ever be able to decipher this bloody map.
“Come on, come on!” It’s only a matter of time before they find the body. As panic grips me and everything comes flooding back, I begin to wonder, “Was he right?”
This week marked the 156 anniversary of Canadian Confederation. The British North American Act took effect on July 1st, 1867 and Canada passed from being a British colony to a member country of the British Commonwealth.
I for one refuse to forget that past. There has been a huge push against colonialism in recent years. The British now looked upon in an unpleasant light. Once again the statue of Queen Victoria in Kitchener’s Victoria Park was vandalized, doused in red paint in an act that has played out four times in the last two years. What I find most intriguing is that these former colonies, the places where we now try to erase people like Sir John A. MacDonald, Canada’s first Prime Minister and deny our history, are the very places where people want to immigrate. As much as we want to abhor the blue-eyed devils we flock the places they built.
All I can say to Canadians, members of the British Commonwealth and those countries who were founded on British and European ideals, do not be ashamed of your history, embrace it. Many of the places our people have built are a beacon of peace and civility for the rest of the world.
As Google and Meta get set to turn off links to Canadian news sites I ponder an interesting question. The Canadian government passed legislation that would force content giants like Google, Microsoft and Meta to pay for content they display or link to on their platforms. Up until this point they have presented content from independent sources free of charge. In the process, making billions of dollars in advertising revenue that those providers will never see. The Canadian government has become the first to protect homegrown content providers by forcing these giant tech companies to properly compensate creators.
We could argue whether that is fair or even feasible but that is not the crux of my question. You see, for years these entities have claimed they are not responsible for the content they present and as such can’t or shouldn’t be held liable for it. They don’t believe they have an obligation to monitor or regulate the content to which they provide access. They claim it is too large a financial burden to expect them to build the apparatus to police content. Interesting that moment they have to pay for the content they present all of the apparatus to block it, the apparatus they claimed was too expensive to build, suddenly isn’t that costly and even more alarming already exists. All they need to do to ensure they don’t have to pay for content is flip the switch to have it blocked.
As we celebrate this Canada Day I have been listening to Canada’s greatest songwriter who passed away earlier this year. It was once said that the offices of SOCAN have one storage room (this was before computers) for all the songs written by Canadian artists and a second room for all the works of Gordon Lightfoot. I have previously featured The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. Here are some other faves, Canadian Railroad Trilogy, Sundown and Carefree Highway.
The week in review…
Who Knew Proof from Fandango at This, That and the Other that Seniors love heavy metal too.
Five Word Weekly and Four Line Fiction and another installment of T-Shirt Wisdom. Don’t forget to get your entry in for July’s Creative Writing Monthly, July 31st is almost here. Have a great week everyone,
When Ida discovered that she could hear the voices of the dead speaking to her when she tuned into a certain radio station, she decided to change the station.
Well maybe not right away but as she sat in the courtroom listening to the Crown Attorney describe the trail of death and destruction she’d left in her wake it became evident.
“Forty-one injured and 17 dead in all Your Honour. Several were shot where they stood, and others were stabbed waiting for the bus or standing in line at the gas bar convenience. Three more were taken when the accused set that same gas bar alight. All blown to bits in the ensuing explosion including one poor soul whose legs were found sheared off just below the knees, still standing in front of the toilet where he’d been peacefully relieving himself.”
Was this ever going to end she thought but the anger in his voice kept rising as he continued, “Still more, run down in the street by the rust-coloured pickup truck she’d stolen from her ex, a.k.a. victim one. Mostly unaware of their fate as they went about their daily business and she’d have us all believe it was voices…” he paused momentarily before speaking again with greater emphasis. “VOICES OF THE DEAD – that made her do it.”
“Do you have anything to say to this court Ida?” the Judge asked.
Her own barrister counselled her to remain silent but how could she not say something. The families needed an explanation, closure.
“Well, your honour, maybe –” a quiver present in her voice. “Maybe I should have changed the station sooner.”
“…and on the left is Berg Eltz,” the guide delivers the canned script from rote. His German-accented English spills from the tour bus speakers as he navigates the narrow Elzbach River valley road. “The castle has been owned by the same family for over eight hundred yea…”
Elise’s mind wanders until the even temperament of his voice only fills the background spaces in her head.
Why did she want to see castles, Prince Charming was never coming. Hell at this point the evil Prince would do. She imagined being locked in the highest turret. A plaything to be ravished beneath the full moon, her hungry bones left to wait for the next time. Her mother insisted girls like them were destined for more mundane fates with men who were far less interesting. Men like her Dad who worked his fingers to the bone, sweating blood and tears just to survive.
Unknown
The bus stopped at the end of the long stone walkway leading to the entrance of Eltz. For the next two hours, the historic castle would be her playground. Her travel companions opted for the guided tour while Elise chose to walk the halls and grounds alone. ‘Bleiben Sie hinter der Linie’, ignoring the signs she sat on the edge of the Prince’s bed. A moment later she swung her feet up and lay back. The room was much smaller than she expected but it didn’t matter. She watched the door, expecting him to walk through at any moment, no one came.
As the stopover came to an end she thought of her own smaller castle back in Omaha. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. The thought of removing her glass slippers felt liberating. Pulling them from her feet she set them on the stone wall and walked barefoot onto the bus.
At the next stop Elise sat for a moment, not sure if this was scheduled or if the bus had broken down. As she looked out over the scenic countryside, she caught movement in her periphery. Turning her head and setting her eyes on a tall, dark and extremely handsome man. He was heading right toward her while he motioned with his hands.
Unknown
“Excuse me, excuse me… I think you left these at Berg Eltz.”
She nodded.
“I need to be certain,” he said as he dropped to one knee.
She raised her leg to meet his hand and he slid the slipper onto her foot…
Welcome to Four Line Fiction, a pix-to-prose challenge. Each Tuesday, at 9:00am Eastern Time (Canada/United States) I will post an image I have captured myself, featured from another blog or plucked from one of the Interweb’s many royalty-free image sites. You as the writer are to use that image as a point of inspiration to craft a masterpiece of fiction in four lines.
This week’s image depicts a grey and white cat with a tinge of orange fur on its head sitting on an old bicycle rim and tire. The cat is camouflaged against a grey and white three-panel, rust-speckled background. The background panel at the right of the image is clearly marked with a left-hand print.
Be creative and have fun. I look forward to reading the tales you spin. Don’t forget to show your fellow bloggers some love -❤️- take some time to read, like, and comment on their masterpieces.
This week has turned out to be a mixed bag. The solstice has come and gone ushering in summer in the northern hemisphere. Now the days begin getting shorter as we hurtle back toward the cold of winter. That said, I will enjoy the warmth for as long as it lasts.
Just as I was getting over a painful couple of months with plantar fascitis in my left foot, I was scheduled to attend training wearing heavy safety boots. My current job doesn’t require that I wear them regularly. However, to re-certify the training must be completed in full uniform. Now after one-half day, the foot is back at square one. It didn’t help that the next two days were spent standing on a baseball diamond.
Greg Glazebrook @ GMGPhotography
That was the good part of the week. The standing didn’t help my foot, but watching my little guy play in his season-ending T-Ball tournament was fantastic. He played well even through normal kid focus issues and a love for the dirt on the infield. Making an out at third and hitting the ball hard. Honestly, all the kids look so damn cute out there.
The beginning of summer had me listening to one of my favourite summer driving songs. The Kings are a great Canadian band hailing from Oakville, Ontario. Literally one town over from where I grew up. They have some great music in their catalogue but only one commercially successful hit, charting in both Canada and the U.S.A. That hit consisted of the first two tracks which are normally played together. “This Beat Goes On/Switchin’ to Glide” was taken from the band’s 1980 debut album “The Kings Are Here.” Take a listen and tell me you can’t feel the wind whipping through your hair as you drive much too fast along that lake road or up the coast.
The week in review…
Locked Diary Revisiting a memory of Paris lifted from the pages of a diary written by Rockstar Girl at Is It Real or Fantasy.
The Calling Did Dana find salvation? Just because we can’t see it doesn’t mean wasn’t there. A delightful alien (almost) abduction story by Paula at Light Motifs II.
New World Order Be wary of the man in a fedora preaching a better future.
Out of It Fandango manages to craft a short poem even though he was out of everything.
Grandad, where are the wires? Sometimes the old ways captured a labour of love that is lost in today’s technological world. Be sure to check out Diana’s take on the prompt on the Writer Ravenclaw blog.
4 Line Fiction Nicole Smith at Momoetry captures that feeling when you can’t find the words to own up to something terrible you’ve done.
T-Shirt Wisdom Wednesday | Another bi-weekly installment of this humorous graphic design segment.
Next week…
Five Word Weekly and Four Line Fiction and the official launch of the Creative Writing Month challenge although the preview for the first month came out at the beginning of June. Have a great week everyone,
Spring, summer, winter, fall, rainy or dry, the seasons are born of a celestial love story.
Theia, travelling cold and alone through Sol’s domain. Oblivious to a fate inexorably tied to the maiden planet set within its path. Drawn towards the fiery sphere’s beauty, racing towards the edge of her influence not realizing he had moved beyond the point of no return. Her gravity pulling him deeper into her well, towards a climax that will devour him and knock her off kilter.
The impact tilted her axis and gave rise to Earth’s seasons. The debris from their joining spilled into the night sky. The seeds of a new life filled the space around her. Coalescing over millennia to birth a child from nothing more than a chance meeting. Their child, forever in lockstep with its mother, gentling shaping and reshaping her shorelines as it circles her.
Theia may no longer roam through Sol’s domain but his legacy lives on in the night sky. Its DNA is embedded in the Earth and the Moon, marking the months as Earth continues her journey around the Sun.
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