Friday Fiction – Row on Row

A moment’s pause in our day, just long enough to find something to say about Claire Fuller‘s intriguing picture prompt (the first image below) for the Friday Fictioneers. I still haven’t worked out what it is, but a couple of phrases sprung to mind from the picture and from those phrases came a story.  I appreciate your honest feedback.

Row on Row

They stood row upon row. Uniform and yet unique. Brian stood out to me, because of the invisible umbilical cord linking us long beyond the real one, but I know he was just part of the blur of green to the mothers of the boys beside him, behind him and in front.

Perhaps they had mentioned him in letters; perhaps they were some of the boys he occasionally referred to when he wrote.

I stare again at them all. The other boys’ just part of the blur of white surrounding Brian’s cross: uniform and yet unique. Like all the rest.

Photo: Mike Weston ABIPP/MOD [OGL (http://www.nationalarchives.gov.uk/doc/open-government-licence/version/1/)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

US cemetery, Colleville-sur-Mer, Calvados, Normandy / Personal picture taken by user Urban, February 2005 (wikimedia commons)

Friday Fiction – Legacy

This week Friday Fiction gives us the Want no evil, Think no evil, Feel no evil picture below from Sean Fallon. There are so many things I wanted to do with it, but time and rules permit only one story, and the one below is what I chose. Even then, this is a scene I can see so much more of in my mind and wonder how well I’ve captured in 100 words. I hope you enjoy it. If you have time, please let me know what you think – good and bad – in the comments section.

Other stories based on the prompt can be found on Rochelle’s site. After you’ve read the story, if you’d like a brief musical interlude, click here, or here. Both are relevant.

**UPDATE: Based on the comments posted today, I’ve made a few edits (two, really, and then a few other tweaks to keep the word count). Hopefully this version is a little more clear.

Legacy

“Deuce is wild,” said Tommy, cutting the deck. “I wanna legacy, like them novels Ron, here, wrote.”

The four men sorted their cards.

“Donate your body to science,” said Ian. “That’s my plan.”

“Don’t think they’ll want mine.” Geoff rubbed arthritic knuckles and glared at the mixed bag of nothing in his hand. “I figure my legacy’s all the scribbling on walls I did during ‘Nam. Peace graffiti never gets cleaned off, right?”

“I’d forgot you’re a Peacenik,” Tommy spat.

“That’s your legacy then: death and destruction. That and your bui doi.” Geoff dropped a fifty on the table. “Bet.”

 

Voice Week: Guns in the Toy Box #5

Here’s the final installment of my Voice Week entries. You can see what it’s all about, and read the first installment in Monday’s post, then follow the other voices over the rest of the week. The voices are designed to be read in any order.

Thanks for reading along!

Guns in the Toy Box

So, he’s a Commando now. Off to kill some innocents in another pointless war. I heard through his sister.

I knew he’d turn out that way. Always had guns in the toy box, thanks to my ex. Just like his father: first into the fray, last one to consider anyone else’s point of view. He’d no more be an ordinary soldier than an ordinary son. Why not go blow up some people who never did anything to him?

Mind you, though, he’d better not come back dead. If he does, I don’t know who I’ll kill first – him or his father.

Voice Week: Guns in the Toy Box #4

Here’s the fourth installment of my Voice Week entries. You can see what it’s all about, and read the first installment in Monday’s post, then #2 and #3 yesterday and the day before. The voices are designed to be read in any order.

Guns in the Toy Box

I understand he wants to see his heritage. I just never imagined it like this. He says he’s among friends. He calls them his brothers. But you hear stories. How they’re so deeply brainwashed they see the enemy among their comrades. He says he’s careful: prays away from the others, doesn’t rub his faith in their faces, but a Mother worries. Can these boys really tell a radical Muslim from a good follower of the Prophet?

And what about the locals? Will they see him as a hypocrite – an invader who should know better?

In sha’Allah, he will be safe.

Voice Week: Guns in the Toy Box #3

Here’s the third installment of my Voice Week entries. You can see what it’s all about, and read the first installment in Monday’s post. #2 was yesterday. The voices are designed to be read in any order.

Guns in the Toy Box

There has been a Blythe in the Royal Marines since before there was a Royal Marines. Teddy knows the risks; his father was wounded out in Kosovo, but there is no way he wouldn’t have joined up. Doesn’t every little boy want to be like his Daddy?

He used to look through the medals and berets in my Pop’s cabinet when he was tiny. He even played with Pop’s old Webley. Safety catch on. Not loaded, of course. Pop gave it to him for his fifth birthday, said a boy needs to grow up knowing the man he will become.

Voice Week: Guns in the Toy Box #2

Here’s the second installment of my Voice Week entries. You can see what it’s all about, and read the first installment in yesterday’s post. The voices are designed to be read in any order.

Guns in the Toy Box

Royal Marines Commando. Them’s no ordnary soldiers them. Makes im special. Top one percent thingy. 99.99% Need Not Apply.

Bloody love im. Couldn’t be more proud. Raised him up good, din I? ‘Fe wants to go bring peace to some Godforsaken shithole. Keep them rag’eds in line.

I knew, course. Makin’ guns out of his sister’s doll before e could walk. Bought ‘im a toy pistol when e was five; never looked back.

Just ‘slong as they bring ‘im back in one piece, course. Got ‘is Uncle wot’s a lawyer to write ‘em a letter. You bring my boy back OK.

Voice Week: Guns in the Toy Box #1

First, and irrelevantly, HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my gorgeous little boy, who has become one of my best friends and a constant reminder of the wonder of life.

Now, onto business. It’s November, which means I’m already at least toe-deep in NaNoWriMo, but the lovely Steph over at BeKindRewrite doesn’t care about a small thing like that. She demands voices, because this week is Voice Week. So, every day this week, I’ll be posting a 100 word story in a different voice. If you want to find out more, join in, or read other Voice Week stories, check out VW HQ.

Either way, I hope you enjoy my stories this year. I’d love to hear your feedback – on the stories, on the voices, whatever. My stories are based on an InMon prompt from a few weeks ago, which I liked but didn’t use.

Guns in the Toy Box

We always said our son wouldn’t play at war. It seemed wrong to our middle class, liberal minds, that he should play at shooting when children half a world away do it for real.

But if you don’t buy them guns, apparently kids just make them. Out of fingers. Or toilet rolls. Or the arm of their sister’s Barbie. So we let him have a water pistol when he was five.

Now he’s going halfway around the world to protect those foreign children. I’m proud. But if it’s such a good thing, why do I wake up cold and sweating?