Sunday Photo Fiction – King Darah

Every week a photo is used as a prompt to create a story approximately 200 words in length. If you want to have a go, then had over to

Sunday Photo Fiction

and if you want to read what others have written, then click on the little froggy just below this.

170 08 August 28th 2016

Teri looked at the man sat beside her on the throne. He was king, and she was queen. She always knew she was borne for greatness. When the Royal Guards came for her, she knew she would be the greatest monarch. His family had all perished in various ways leaving him, the 23-year-old King Darah, as the last remaining member of the royal family. He was never supposed to get there. His seven brothers and sisters as well as their children were in line before him. He was 17th. Now, he was King. Teri smiled, and when Darah glanced over at her, her smile became broader. He gave a brief nervous smile, more a twitch of the edge of his mouth.

Yesterday, they were married; today he was crowned king. Tomorrow, he would fall out the bedroom window. Surviving that would be difficult. It would go down as another tragic accident, and she would become the sole monarch and she would shape the country as she saw fit.

When they reached the bedroom that night, Darah noticed the colour drain from her face.

“What’s wrong my love? I had the bars put on the windows to stop any nasty accidents.”

Stand My Ground

I was going through some blogs, trying to catch up, and I saw one from Penny on The Why About This. She has a video from one of my favourite groups, and when I was watching it, I thought of the song that goes with it. Or it goes with it in my opinion anyway. Head over to Penny’s to see the first song, then either watch the lyrics video or the official video of Stand My Ground by Within Temptation. I think I may have put this on a couple of years ago when I was doing my music posts.

Friday Fictioneers -By Strange Means

Friday Fictioneers is a weekly photo challenge hosted by the wonderful Rochelle. She hangs up a photo that someone has provided for her and our task is to write a story in 100 words or less based on that photo. It is not as easy as you may think. I managed to edit mine from 160 words down to exactly 100.

If you want to have a go, then click on the Friday Fictioneers image, or if you want to read what others have written, then click on the blue frog.


Click image to head to Friday Fictioneers


Photo © Georgia Koch

Jeff lay back in the boat, his oar snapped three hours previously and one of the shards still protruded from his right arm. Looking out across the lake, he knew no one could see him; he dozed off hoping someone would come.

A female voice to his right woke him, “Help’s coming Jeff.” He looked and saw a lifeboat speeding towards him. He smiled. He was safe. The owner of the voice was nowhere around.

“We got your distress call from Anna,” a rescuer told him.

Jeff smiled with tears in his eyes. Anna, his nan, died twenty years ago.


Whilst this is fiction, it is based on a true event. My cousin was on a Loch in Scotland and for some reason he couldn’t get back. Our nan sat on the boat with him until help arrived. This was in 1996, and we buried our nan in 1988. I changed the names. Our nan was very spiritual and claimed she could see spirits when she was alive. Maybe she could, and that’s why she came back to my cousin.

Sunday Photo Fiction -A Stroll Through The Park

Every week a photo is used as a prompt to create a story or a poem in around  words. It may seem easy, but sometimes when you are caught up, the word count goes way over so reducing it to  words, looking what words to remove, can be difficult. If you want to see if you can do it, then head over to


or if you want read what others have written, then head over to

169 08 August 21st 2016

She did not look innocent. The way she walked, the way she moved, seemingly gliding rather than walking. Her hair ruffled lightly in the wind. The trees bowing to her as the wind blew them. The streetlight lit up her platinum blonde hair, making it look almost metallic.

She carried herself with confidence and fearlessness. Her arms hung by her sides, fingers barely past the very short skirt she wore.  The boots, with their six-inch heels, covered her legs and knees with laces up the front, a zip up the back and seven buckles on the inner side.

Her top, cropped to show her mid-section and the bullet shell casing as a naval piece on show. The black top with the words “vida ad mortem”* in silver, sat with the bottom of her breasts showing underneath.

Walking along the path at just after midnight would have scared most people, but she seemed unperturbed. She knew what the risks coming down here. In fact, she welcomed them.

Her ear twitched at the rustle in the bushes beside her, and the rapist that plagued the park stepped out grinning manically. His grin vanished when he realised HE was the prey this time …

*  Vida ad mortem – Life To Death