What Pegman Saw – Gay Terror

“What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. You can read the rules here. You can find today’s location on this page,  from where you can also get the Inlinkz code. This week’s location is Chechnya.

WPS - Gay Terror 200607

Gay Terror

I can’t tell anybody. They would kill me.

Adam was a pupil from my school, older than me.

He was lovely. Sometimes I used to follow him.

He used to meet a friend in the forest, another boy. I saw them kiss each other. I was jealous. I wanted him to kiss me.

They had a special place. I would hide in a nearby bush, right out of sight, and watch them.

One day his friend came with a gang. They had pick handles and baseball bats. Adam screamed as they beat him. I stuffed my hand in my mouth so as not to cry out.

When they had finished, they dug a grave and threw him in. They hit his friend then, several times, until he sobbed.

“If you ever kiss another man we’ll kill you, too,” said one of them.

Letter received by the Guardian newspaper March 2017

Author’s note

This is entirely fiction. Unfortunately, the actual situation in Chechnya is far worse.

Friday Fictioneers – Bum Deal

Every week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (thank you, Rochelle!) hosts a flash fiction challenge, to write a complete story, based on a photoprompt, with a beginning, middle and end, in 100 words or less. Post it on your blog, and include the Photoprompt and Inlinkz on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them!

FF - Bum Deal 200108

PHOTO PROMPT © C E Ayr

Bum deal

The streetlights were yellowed by the onrushing dawn as Tony, groundsman of the Paradiso Marina, parked his scooter in its designated parking bay. He doffed his helmet and strolled to the big campervan. He yawned. It had been a busy night, both profitable, if not strictly legal, and pleasurable, if not strictly monogamous.

Why was the campervan here, by the Sopranos’ mooring? He would have to move them on before nine o’ clock.

He hammered on the door, then noticed the hissing and the smell of gas.

“Shit!”

The explosion of the campervan was heard all over the town.

Inlinkz – click here to join in

What Pegman Saw – Redemption

“What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. Using the location provided, you must write a piece of flash fiction of no more than 150 words. You can read the rules here. You can find today’s location on this page,  from where you can also get the Inlinkz code. This week’s prompt is Tasmania, Australia.

WPS - Redemption 191216

Image from PixbayBlade by Pixabay

Redemption

Reverend Luke spoke sternly to Matt. “You should not have seized Lowanna from her home and family. That is against God’s law.”

Matt went white, his finger twitched and the gun roared, deafening in the confined space of the cabin. Disappointment stained the face of the priest as he slumped.

“I forgive you,” he gasped. “Now put right the evil you have done.”

His eyes closed, he shuddered and his chest stopped heaving.

Matt Cox stared aghast. The gun rattled against the table as he laid it down.

He buried the body in his kitchen garden. He could feel Lowanna watching from the room in which he’d locked her.

Reverend Luke’s face haunted him, day and night. Suddenly, Matt realised that the sadness in the priest’s eyes was for him and nobody else. On Sunday morning, as the church bell rang through the clear air, Matt restored Lowanna to her family.

Note

During the first quarter of the nineteenth century, British settlers – where men vastly outnumbered women – used to seize aboriginal women as ‘wives’. Occasionally the aboriginals would strike back, killing a few settlers, whereupon they faced massive reprisals and many deaths. This conflict was known as the ‘Black War’.

 

 

 

What Pegman Saw – Farewell

What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. You can read the rules here. You can find today’s location on this page,  from where you can also get the Inlinkz code.

WPS - Farewell 191209

Image by melaniejwagar from Pixabay

Farewell

The dawn sky glows oyster and then shatters as a golden ray of light lances across the land. I start the Harley.

“For you, Namid,” I whisper, and her voice whispers back the lines of poetry she spoke at our first meeting.

Cruising south-west, I take time to notice the lake by which we picnicked, the woods through which we roamed hand in hand. The bike throbs gently. Lakes, trees, kilometres and hours creep past inexorably, like the years of a life.

Fifteen hours after setting out I ride through Cold Lake, down to the water’s edge.

I watch the massed clouds, purple and gold in the evening light.

I remember.

I remember the attacker’s snarling face. I remember savage pain in my belly, ripped as I struggled to protect Namid. I remember her eyes as the knife pierced her chest, her anguished gaze of farewell.

The sun sets.

 

 

Friday Fictioneers – Resolution

Every week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (thank you, Rochelle!) hosts a flash fiction challenge, to write a complete story with a beginning, middle and end in 100 words or less. Post it on your blog, and include the Photoprompt and Inlinkz (the blue frog) on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them!

FF - Resolution 191004

© Dale Rogerson

Resolution

Lean as a hungry wolf, he loped through frosty streets towards the dojo, trainers scuffing against the pavement. He remembered his mother as she was before she killed herself. His steaming breath hissed through clenched teeth.

As he ran beneath the floodlights of the basketball pitch, a friend hailed him, “Hey, Connor, fancy a beer?”

Without breaking stride he shook his head, swerved off the road into the shadows between the trees and accelerated.

Every step stoked his determination, built his strength. He was nearly ready. Soon he would make his mother’s abuser pay. He would kill his father.

 

 

What Pegman Saw – The Thain takes a Wife

“What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. Using the location provided, you must write a piece of flash fiction of no more than 150 words. You can read the rules here. You can find today’s location on this page,  from where you can also get the Inlinkz code. This week’s prompt is Newfoundland and Labrador, Canada.

WPS - The Thain's Wife 190922

Image from Axe20 by Pixabay

The Thain takes a Wife

My parents’ blood soaked into my clothes. I lay still, as though dead, clutching a knife beneath me. Its serrated blade was designed to strip the hide off a seal; it should take the life of at least one of these murderers, these Vikings.

I heard footsteps; I felt the draft as he lifted the flap of our mamateek. I could smell him. He reached down and touched my shoulder.

“Aiieee!” With the loudest cry I could muster, I twisted to one side and thrust upwards with all my strength, willing the blade to snatch at least one Viking life in exchange for the deaths of so many of my tribe.

He stepped back, and his boot kicked away my blade.

His sword was raised.

He stared at me, then seized me and dragged me from the floor.

“Come,” he grunted. “To the boat. You will bear me many warriors.”

Friday Fictioneers – Terminus

Every week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (thank you, Rochelle!) hosts a flash fiction challenge, to write a complete story, based on a photoprompt, with a beginning, middle and end, in 100 words or less. Post it on your blog, and include the Photoprompt and Inlinkz (the blue frog) on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them!

FF - Terminus 190724

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

Terminus

As the express raced through the night, Cameron sized up the other passenger in the first-class compartment. Strong, fit, and, it would seem, armed. Like many before him, he seemed oblivious of the scrutiny of the self-effacing Scotsman sitting opposite. His mistake, thought Cameron.

The train roared as it entered the tunnel. Acrid steam blew into the carriage.

“I’ll shut the window, shall I?” enquired Cameron.

He stood, and operated the emergency brake. The train bucked, the brakes squealed, and Cameron turned, gun in hand.

“You’re past it, old man,” he heard, as the other man’s bullet felled him.

Blue Froggie!

 

 

Friday Fictioneers – Murder in the Cathedral

Every week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (thank you, Rochelle!) hosts a flash fiction challenge, to write a complete story, based on a photoprompt, with a beginning, middle and end, in 100 words or less. Post it on your blog, and include the Photoprompt and Inlinkz (the blue frog) on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them!

I have to confess that I’m not quite sure where today’s story came from. It’s an emotional response to the prompt.

FF - Murder in the Cathedral 190710

Murder in the cathedral

On to the dead go all estates,

Panting, I crouch, hidden behind the High Altar.

Princes, prelates, and potentates,

The Dean manages to wrest a sword from the grasp of one of the murderers; blades clash. A jet of blood, bubbling with his mortal scream, sprays over the altar, while the assassins’ ring-leader bays in triumph. They skewer the Archbishop as he babbles prayers, shrinking into his Cathedra.

Both rich and poor of all degree;

Will they butcher me too? I’m only a monk. I have no part in great events. I tell my rosary, shuddering.

Timor mortis conturbat me.

 

Notes

The story is written interleaved with a stanza of “Lament for the Makers” by William Dunbar. I first wrote the story using the original words, but that looked a little daunting, so I turned them into present day English. The final line of the stanza is Latin, and means “The fear of death troubles me”.

Murder in the cathedral

On to the ded gois all estatis,

Panting, I crouch, hidden behind the High Altar.

Princis, prelotis, and potestatis,

The Dean manages to wrest a sword from the grasp of one of the murderers; blades clash. A jet of blood, bubbling with his mortal scream, sprays over the altar, while the assassins’ ring-leader bays in triumph. They skewer the Archbishop as he babbles prayers, shrinking into his Cathedra.

Baith riche and pur of al degre;

Will they butcher me too? I’m only a monk. I have no part in great events. I tell my rosary, shuddering.

Timor mortis conturbat me.

Join the party!

What Pegman Saw – The Lighthouse Keeper’s Wife

“What Pegman saw” is a weekly challenge based on Google Streetview. You can read the rules here. You can find today’s location on this page,  from where you can also get the Inlinkz code.

WPS - The Lighthouse Keeper's Wife 190615 

(c) Jim Semonik

The Lighthouse Keeper’s Wife

My tent slapped like the sail of a gybing yacht as I pitched up within sight of the North Head lighthouse. There was moisture in the air. It tasted salty, and left a film on my spectacles. Waves hurled themselves against the rocks below the lighthouse with a power that was simultaneously exhilarating and appalling.

The wind and waves were my lullaby that night.

I awoke at about one o’clock.

Somebody was sobbing, gasping sobs of desperate distress. I pulled on waterproofs, seized my torch and went out into the gale. There was a wail up ahead, and I saw her, running pell-mell towards the cliffs.

“Stop,” I yelled.

She turned, saw me and shrieked with terror. Panic-stricken, she turned to flee.

“No!” I screamed.

Too late. She plunged over the cliff, plummeting out of sight.

I called 911, but the police found nothing.

“Mary Pesonen’s ghost,” they told me.

 

 

Friday Fictioneers – A life for a life

Every week, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (thank you, Rochelle!) hosts a flash fiction challenge, to write a complete story, based on a photoprompt, with a beginning, middle and end, in 100 words or less. Post it on your blog, and include the Photoprompt and Inlinkz (the blue frog) on your page. Link your story URL. Then the fun starts as you read other peoples’ stories and comment on them!

FF - A life for a life 190213

PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

A Life for a Life

Once they were past the entrance, only the flimsy door of the apartment kept the gang out.

Robin cowered, white faced in the corner. Magdala yelled down her phone to the police.

“They’re here! Be quick!”

The door burst inwards, hurling screws from its hinges like shrapnel.

Sunlight from the window flared from a knife. A man leapt at Robin.

With a shriek of defiance, Magdala threw herself in front of her lover and felt the blade bite deep into her chest.

“Stop!” called the gang leader. “Let him go. She’s paid. A life for a life is enough.”