Weltchys Notebook

Part Time Writer of Science Fiction and Fantasy. Hopefully a blog for Stories, both Long and Short


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Bear with Me

It’s been quite some time since I posted anything here, Friday fictioneers piece or short story. This was not from a lack of wanting, more a busy and tiring period of my life, with the birth of another child and other general things that happen in life.

Anyway, that’s enough excuses, on with the story. This week’s piece took initial shape quite differently from the finished result. I guess that’s how most stories go, evolving as you go along and taking on a life of their own.

Anyway, ‘Bear with me’ is my latest submission for the Friday Fictioneers challenge. Photo prompt this week is courtesy of Karuna.

I will try to read everyone’s submission, but of course there are quite a few. Sorry if you read, like or/and comment about mine and I do not return the favour.

Finally, a short word on the weekly challenge. The Friday Fictioneers are a friendly group of online writers from all over the globe who endeavour to create short but fantastical tales with which to enthral and inspire both reader and writer alike. The genres and styles of writing are varied, so there’s something for everyone to be found within its midst.

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Bear with Me

Cleaning off the mud splattered bear, Todd glanced over his shoulder.

“Fifteen”, he muttered, “twenty minutes at most. She might…”

Shaking her head, Chen gave Todd a grim expression. “Maybe, but I doubt it.”

Kneeling down, Chen studied the ground intently. “Look” she said, waving Todd over. “Fresh tracks.”

Todd hurried over. “Damn, a cougar.”

“I know ”, replied Chen, “damn drone has her scent i’d guess.”

Unslinging his rifle, Todd began following the tracks. Cougar drones were merciless hunters, modelled on an extinct animal from Earth’s past. He’d told his daughter not to wander out, but like her mother, she never listened.

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Anyone for Sushi?

So, I don’t normally post random stuff on my blog. Tends to be either flash fiction or short stories. Certainly nothing with a photo. However, today is different. Today is “Sushi” day. 

I’ve included an image of the fruits of my labour, two rolls of sushi plus some extras just to add a certain “Je ne sias quoi” to the picture. 
Hope you enjoy. And for those Who were expecting a Japanese feudal era themed story, I’ll get back to you on that!

  


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Festival de la Memoria

Below is my 100 word (ish) submission to the Friday Fictioneers. Photo prompt this week is courtesy of DLovering.

As always, comments are appreciated. I try to read everyone’s submission, but with submissions reaching triple digits each week, it’s sometimes difficult to get round to each one. Therefore, I tend to read those who I follow, or who like / comment my story. And finally, I also try for a random selection from the list.

Just a quick word on the writing group. The Friday Fictioneers are a friendly group of online writers from all over the globe who endeavour to create short but fantastical tales with which to enthrall and inspire both reader and writer alike. The genres and styles of writing are varied, so there is something for everyone to be found within its midst.

The group has been under Rochelle’s stewardship now for two years to the week, so this is a birthday of sorts. Happy Birthday Friday Fictioneers. On a side note, today (Thursday 10th April) is also my Birthday!

Anyway, hope you enjoy the story.

 

Copyright – DLovering

Festival de la Memoria

Her caress is electric, sparking memories of desire. Moving closer, she speaks, a ghostly whisper that stirs uncontrollable passion within my loins.

“It’s been awhile, hasn’t it.”

Powerless to resist, her body presses close, legs entwining to draw me into the dance. The music of the festival pulls at us, it’s hypnotic beat alive with purpose, driving us toward exhaustion.

“Goodbye, my love.”

The music ends, and with it she is gone, disappearing into the night. Her words carry a lifetime of regret, renewing the pain of loss once again.

As tears stream down my face, I mouth three simple words, knowing full well that the dead cannot reply.

“I miss you.”


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Beneath the Mountain

I missed last weeks submission as the family and I were in Malta attending the wedding of my wife’s cousin. Anyway, over the course of the week, I had itchy fingers, so to speak. This story is my 100 word (ish) submission to the Friday Fictioneers. Photo prompt is courtesy of Danny Bowman. Enjoy.

Copyright of Danny Bowman

Copyright of Danny Bowman

What lies beneath the mountain must never be unleashed.

Those words have been etched into my mind for an eternity. But recent events have forced my hand.

The great machine stirs below, a million cogs turning, or so I imagine, to open what some call the gates to hell.

To me however, the sound is therapeutic, soothing the madness within. Soon, I hope to face my doubters, righteousness at my side as we step into the unknown.

Beneath me, the ground shakes, whilst a great voice sounds from above. The words are meaningless, but sound foreboding.

“Attention. Fusion reactors have reached critical mass. Please evacuate.”


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Partners in crime

Today’s 100 word (ish) submission to the Friday Fictioneers. Photo prompt is courtesy of David Stewart. Enjoy.

Copyright of David Stewart

Copyright of David Stewart

John looked to Harold, his erstwhile partner in crime. “Now remember, we go on the third chime!”

Harold’s reply was to frown in confusion.

“I mean it Harold. Mess this up and it’s a world of pain for both of us.”

It was inevitable really. Harold’s grasp of numbers was poor at best. On the third chime, John drew his gun and ran inside the bank, shouting at everyone to get down. Harold on the other hand was left outside, struggling to count past two.

Shots rang out as armed guards unloaded their frustrations into John. Harold simply shook his head. Second chime would have worked better!


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So, the last couple of evenings has seen me hard at work, editing, re-editing, restoring and re-editing once more, the first chapter of my Military Science Fiction novel. As everyone knows, the first paragraph and chapter have the ability to both draw in the reader and lose them, hence why I’ve returned back to the start. Initially this seemed like taking a step back, having made it to Chapter six and twenty thousand words, but then a year into writing, obviously my style has changed, hopefully improving.

Anyway, back to editing the first chapter. One moment, I’ll edit, read back a paragraph and be happy with it, only to read it again later and realise that the original was better. This exercise has been occurring time and again over the last few nights and is, as everyone knows, incredibly frustrating.

Of course tonight, I’ve finally arrived at something I’m happy with. But I can guarantee that either tomorrow or sometime in the future, the critic monster that lurks in all of us will rear it’s ugly head and demand a rewrite. Until then…..

Oh bugger it, I think I’ll give it one more read!


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The Workshop

Today’s submission to the Friday Fictioneers. Photo prompt is courtesy of Claire Fuller.

The Workshop – Copyright Claire Fuller

Looking back, John probably regretted ignoring the sign out front.

His mistake was to think that safety signs were the brainchild of some busybody stuck inside an office. How was John to know it was fumigation day.

John’s predecessor had made that same mistake, lighting up as he always did under the ventilation shaft. One moment he was standing there, enjoying his first puff of the day. The next, his cigarette was a blazing tube of fury, igniting everything in it’s path. Indiscriminate, the flames set alight a nearby woodpile; to be met with gasps from those nearby, alongside shouts to evacuate the workshop.

Standing outside, John tried to look inconspicuous. Probably not the best way to start a new job.