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LiteratureThe Woman With Three HeadsMara was used to weird things happening to her. And now here on vacation in Britain where they thought ‘Penguin’ was an appropriate brand name for a chocolate cookie, honestly she had been prepared for anything. It was still a bit of a surprise though. Wandering around London’s Natural History Museum… Stopping to casually examine a tableau of stuffed foxes and cubs… Spotting two marble heads tucked behind the vixen—one in a woollen hat and the other in sunglasses, and the two of them arguing together in hushed tones... “Everything… okay there, guys?” she asked. The two heads froze. ThenAll

LiteratureDropped StitchesThe sheep smiled awkwardly. “Look, I sympathise. I really do. But—” The jumper threw its arms around her. “Please take me back! Please!” It choked back a sob. “I thought this was what I wanted! To be knitted. And becoming a Christmas jumper seemed so exciting.” It released its arms and slumped on the grass. “But I’ve made a huge mistake. Everyone has just been so cruel. And I don’t understand it. I mean, I’m warm. I’m bright…” The sheep winced. “Indeed you are.” “And I thought I was witty! Took ages before I realised they were laughingFlash Fiction Month 2019

LiteratureKey Stage 5Miss Baggley smiled brightly at the class. “Yesterday we learnt how to sew uniforms for supermarkets. And today we’re learning how to hand paint knick-knacks for the local tourism industry.” She checked her watch. “And we’re going to have to learn how to paint them at the rate of one every two minutes as the van will be picking them up in three hours.” She looked back up at the class. “The sandcastle on the keyring should be yellow, the little flags are blue, and the personalised name at the bottom is red. Let’s get on! No talking please.” She and her assistants began to hand out the kFlash Fiction Month 2018

LiteratureKeys From Hell!It’s never good news when you’re getting a visit from the head demon of the netherworld’s uncivil service. The demon smiled apologetically at the keys to the Gates of Hell. “I’m afraid, you see, there’s going to be some cutbacks.” “Oh, yes..?” said Brimstone Key. “Yes.” The demon hesitated. “And unfortunately we’re thinking of making you both redundant.” “Heavens!” said Sulphur Key. “Well, there’s no need for that sort of language,” said the demon. He sighed. “Look, it’s not your fault. But there just isn’Short Stories

LiteratureHis Better HalfBride/Groom Wife/Husband /WidowerSix Word Stories

LiteratureJerome K. Jerome: a clerihewJerome K. Jerome Came from a poor home. But Three Men in a Boat Kept him afloat.Poetry

LiteratureKnickerbocker GloryCHARACTERS POLLIN (male office worker in late middle-age) MASSONIA (female middle-aged office manager) HABERLEA (male office manager in mid-30s) STRELITZIA (female office worker in early 20s) RUDBECK (female office worker in late 20s) GALANTHUS (male office worker in early 30s) ZINNIA (male office worker in early 20s) JUNCUS (male office worker in early 30s) YUCCA (female office worker in mid-30s) SCENE 1 (Lights up. There are two desks facing each other centre stage—not parallel, making an inverted V from the audience’s POV. HABERLEA sits behind the desk on the right, and MASSONIA sits behind the desk on the left. Facing them,Scripts

LiteratureFan Fiction for the UnconvincedThis is an attempt at an informal essay on fan fiction, by a middle-aged woman who reads and enjoys fan fiction. It won’t really be a balanced argument—I will be concentrating more on what I see as the positive aspects of the genre. I’ll be using mainly examples from the Sherlock fandom, that being the fandom I’m most familiar with. (There will be some spoilers, especially for series 3, so if you haven’t seen the series yet and you intend to, it might be wise to give this essay a miss.) Why do I read fan fiction? The basic reason is exactly the same reason I read anything—some of it is of astounding qualitNon-Fiction

LiteratureSmugglingJohn was in the frozen vegetables aisle, contemplating the advantages of peas over broccoli, when Sherlock suddenly appeared beside him. “What the..?” said John. “I’m here on a case.” Sherlock was staring over John’s shoulder. “Just try to act naturally.” John looked round and saw a scruffy, prematurely-aged woman shuffling towards the baked goods. He turned back to Sherlock. “Isn’t that a member of your homeless network—Miss… Adlington?” Sherlock nodded, and then tensed. “The security guard’s spotted her.” “Oh, God,” said John. &221Bs

LiteratureTwo for TeaJohn loved tea. Just the thought of it made him feel warm inside. Sometimes it even felt as though tea were a part of him. But then, he was a teapot. No. He had to face it. He was an ex-teapot. It was six months since the last time he'd been used to make tea. Six months since he'd ended up in this charity shop. He'd started off in the window, then been moved back to the table, then onto a low shelf, then a top shelf and now he was residing on what could only be called the 'junk shelf': sharing space with a haggard baby doll, some statement jewellery and a couple of battered paperbacks. He couldn't help but feel bitter. Yes, he had been throuSherlock the Teapot

LiteratureHolmes and his WatsonsIt was quite a puzzle. Just what was Watson doing wearing a dress in his sitting room? Holmes approached cautiously. He turned the available data over in his mind. Firstly: when he had arrived at Watson’s home and asked to see the master of the house, the maid had demonstrated no embarrassment. She had shown him straight in, before leaving to fetch tea. Secondly: though the figure before him at the writing desk had the unmistakable profile of his friend, the moustache was not so heavy. And were there perhaps a few more curves than he remembered? Ah. It all fell into place—the solution was… “I see you’ve met mySherlock Holmes Fanfiction

Literature60 For 60: The Retired Colourman (2)A/N: "Cut out the poetry, Watson," said Holmes severely. “Too ‘poetic’?” I thrust my latest manuscript at Holmes. “There! You have my permission to edit it!” Some days later Holmes returned my story. “I think I have removed everything that was unnecessary,” he smirked. I glanced at his work, then frowned. “I will never understand your sense of humour, Holmes.” He had trimmed my story to exactly 60 words.Sherlock Holmes 60 For 60

LiteratureThe Blanched Soldier: James M. DoddJames Em Dodd Searches for God. Moving heaven and earth Reveals Em’s-worth.Sherlock Holmes Clerihews

LiteratureEvadne's BirthdayFandom: Dear Ladies Rating: G Disclaimer: Hinge and Bracket were created by Patrick Fyffe and George Logan. Dear Ladies was written by Fyffe and Logan, and Gyles Brandreth, and produced by the BBC. 957 Words Dame Hilda Bracket tooted on the horn of the Rolls and Doctor Hinge came hurrying out of the house, still adjusting her cardigan. “Do be patient, Hilda.” Evadne locked the front door and joined her companion in the car. “At last!” said Hilda. “Anyone would think you didn’t want me to buy you a birthday present.” Evadne frowned. “I was at a very delicate point in my winemaking.” SDear Ladies Fanfiction

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Literature

The Hero's Return

There had been weeks of solitary searching—that mighty river leading him on and on—but at last Albert Braithwaite had found his heart’s desire. And he had survived the ensuing test—those agonising days of waiting and contemplation. But finally he had his reward! A reward beyond what he had hoped for; a reward beyond what he had ever expected! At first he was gladdened by this good fortune but slowly he began to consider. Was this too much for one man? Did he in truth deserve to keep it all? All day and all night, he examined his heart, and all day and all night the name of that mighty river pounded and pounded in h

Flash Fiction Month 2017

Literature

Noir Comedy

I could tell she was trouble as soon as she walked into my office. For a start she wasn’t wearing a mask. I adjusted my own Private Investigator mask and watched her face closely as she explained why she’d come to me—emotions constantly skipping and dancing across the damn thing as she talked. Hell, I thought to myself. How is anyone ever supposed to read a person through all that noise? But all other evidence was pointing towards her being a Femme Fatale. The expertly painted face, the curvaceous figure, the low neckline. And that sultry voice. “It’s my husband, Wilbur Henderson,” she purred. “He

Flash Fiction Month 2016

Literature

Catty

In general, cats have nine lives. Harold had 183. He didn’t pay much attention to Alice’s chatter as he gobbled down his tuna chunks in the kitchen. She was a child, and a Dog Person, so it was unlikely she would ever have anything interesting to say. But something had certainly got her worked up. Out of curiosity, Harold finally started to listen. “I was suspicious of you from the start,” Alice was saying. “Did you really think no-one would ever notice?” Harold finished the last chunk and looked up. “Mrs. Deaking—used to enjoy a little Gilbert and Sullivan and then suddenly developed a ta

Flash Fiction Month 2015

Literature

I've Really Lost My Mind

The young man smiled, with just a touch of embarrassment. “I seem to have lost my mind.” The female attendant looked at him. “This is a railway ticket office.” “Yes..?” “You want the lost property section over there.” She pointed at a counter where a severe-looking man was rearranging misplaced umbrellas. “Thank you!” The young man nodded politely and headed across to the other section. The lost property attendant looked up as the young man approached. “Is it an umbrella you want?” He indicated the display. The young man appeared to be tempted for a moment by a purp

Flash Fiction Month 2014

Literature

The Back of the Sofa

In the communal living room of her student digs, Prudence knelt on the sofa and rummaged around between the cushions in the hope of finding her wayward fiver. She frowned as she searched. The sofa certainly seemed to have a lot of give—her hand was sinking further and further and— She barely had time to feel shocked as she slipped and fell. It only seemed a moment before she hit the ground and found herself once again in the strange world of Back O’ Th’ Sofa. “Good heavens…” Prudence gazed about in wonder. “I thought I’d dreamt this place…” “Prudence!” She turn

Literature

Deckchairs

“...and so we are here talking to Hubert Barraclough in order to find out more about this fascinating pastime.” Lavinia Clutterbuck pointed the microphone at Hubert. “It is a relatively unknown version of the game, isn’t it?” Hubert smiled a little ruefully. “Sadly it is—even though Beach Poker is in fact the original form of poker. Admittedly nowadays it is generally played in private on artificial indoor beaches like this one but still…” Lavinia nodded. “Can you take us through some of the aspects of Beach Poker?” “Of course!” Hubert indicated the deckchairs in

FlashFictionLives 2016 Prompts

Literature

Something Personal

Doctor de Silva and Doctor Visser were going through the records at The Museum of Contagious Diseases. “So this lady got hepatitis A… this gentleman got gastroenteritis… and this lady got chlamydia!” Doctor de Silva beamed. “Excellent!” “Are you sure…?” Doctor Visser smiled weakly. “I really think we need to rethink the museum’s gift shop.”

SCFrankles - Hobbyist, Writer | DeviantArt (original) (raw)

Gallery

The Hero's Return

Noir Comedy

Catty

I've Really Lost My Mind

The Back of the Sofa

Deckchairs

Something Personal

The Woman With Three Heads by SCFrankles, literature

Hidden Away by SCFrankles, literature

Branches Everywhere by SCFrankles, literature

Unfortunate by SCFrankles, literature

Something Tasteful by SCFrankles, literature

Adventurous Stuff by SCFrankles, literature

Going Down Fighting by SCFrankles, literature

A Dryad At School by SCFrankles, literature

Spinning A Yarn by SCFrankles, literature

The Mother of All Invention by SCFrankles, literature