AnElephantCant find a rhyme this week
For that last bit of tree called a stump
He is down in the dumps
With a head full of lumps
He is back down to earth with a bump
Once again it is Friday Fictioneer time.
Regal Redwood Rochelle finds a forest of story-telling saplings to cultivate crisp chronicles.
And AnElephant pines for success.
The idea is to write a very short story, circa 100 words, based on this picture prompt (below).
That’s it.
Copyright Sandra Crook
The Stump
My father was a remarkable man.
He was strong and determined, a woodsman.
He was also upright, and always right.
I guess I was more like my mother, a poet and a dreamer.
I loved that tree.
I spent half of my childhood in it.
I found sanctuary there.
He despised me.
He chopped it down.
I thought about killing him, of course, but that was not my nature.
I remember the last time I saw him alive.
He had his broken leg trapped under a fallen branch.
I walked slowly home through the freezing snow and darkening sky.
Smiling.
Sound Bite Fiction 
Ooh dark and a bit gruesome but deliciously different Elephant, well done
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Loved the story and the rhyme is very nice.
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How is an elephant like Daphne Du Maurier? Well you’ll have to read the Apple Tree to find out – though that was a ghastly husband who met a frozen end. Never recommended.
But clearly the Stump stand out as a landmark (well it would wouldn’t it) in the development of the modern gothic tale.
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Sounds like you are still smiling. There is a lot of death out there this week, who would have thought we would all see a tree stump and think of death. Weird huh? But then again, this is FF. 🙂
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AnElephantCant help smiling
He can’t laugh cos he runs out of breath
He sees what’s left of the tree
He thinks dearie me
It is high time someone met their death
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Ah, our Fictioneer stories from this Friday are similar – nature enacting its revenge. Great job!
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Glad you liked, Jorbi.
AnElephant visits soon.
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Deliciously dark 🙂
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Rather like Helen herself!
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Loved it
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Love the comment.
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For starters, I love your elephant poem and all the drawings. Babar has compelling competition. I didn’t have a mean dad but a cruel mother. I got this. That stump has been so provocative to all. Interesting. Thanks
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AnElephantCant tell you how happy he is
The pretty lady says she likes his poem
He can’t claim to be smart
And it’s his pal Phil’s art
But she is being sweet and she doesn’t even know him
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There’s nothing like an elephant to brighten a girl’s day. I did like your poem. Not everybody can write poetry, and the couplet:
He can’t claim to be smart
And it’s his pal Phil’s art…is great 🙂
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Aw shucks, ma’am, this is why AnElephantCant stop being pink.
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Well that’s good news 🙂
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did he turn out to be a poet and dreamer?
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AnElephantCant tell.
He has used his 100 words.
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This is how an unloved child will turn out. Chilling indeed.
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Let’s hope daddy has learned his lesson!
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Would it be manslaughter or murder? Nice twist at the end after taking us on a journey through adulation to distaste to pure downright hate. Well done.
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AnElephantCant remember if patricide is when you kill someone called Paddy?
Happy you enjoyed.
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LOL
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Sinister! Very good 🙂
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Charming! Very nice.
Thank you.
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The trees have risen up against him. How cool is that!
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Yay, Go Pines!!!
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The trees always know, don’t they? Loved the twist.
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And their bite is worse than their bark?
Glad you liked it.
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Oh well…
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Beautifully expressed, RoSy!
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Great story, found ironic how he specifically said killing wasn’t in his nature, but did it anyways, and smiling. I mean, sure he didn’t do it directly, but he knew what was going to happen when he left him there. I guess he had a dark side too.
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Glad you enjoyed.
Apparently everyone has a dark side.
Even the moon.
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So, deep down, he’s just like his father, even worse. I wonder how the dreamer feels once he realizes this. Excellent story, with a surprised ‘whoa!’ at the end.
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AnElephantCant philosophise here.
He tells the story.
Just the facts, ma’am, just the facts.
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That is chilling. The killer dreamer strikes back. I’m not sure where my sympathies lie – if anywhere.
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Ooh, chilling, more ice cream?
Not so many good guys this week, hmm, Patrick?
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Interesting look at the difference between killing someone and leaving them to die, and how we are able to reconcile such acts with our conscience. The fact that the narrator walks away smiling speaks volumes. Well told
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AnElephantCant have a conscience
Perhaps that’s why his stories are bleak
He writes silly rhymes
To cover his crimes
And bumps someone off every week
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Revenge, best served cold. Nice
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Thank you, Tracey.
AnElephant likes his ice cream that way, too.
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I think this is one of the first dark tales that I actually felt happy for. Guess that makes me dark too. Excellent story.
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Dark Joy.
An intriguing thought.
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Dear AEC,
The dreamer and poet has a dark side, doesn’t he, to walk on by and let events take their course. Very well written piece that strips away the layers of civility we like to cloak ourselves in. Well done.
Aloha,
Doug
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Thank you, Doug.
AnElephant cloaks himself in nothing more than a thin veneer of pink cynicism.
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So dark! I loved every word of it… Great job!!
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Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!
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Sometimes you scare me.
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Well, quite honestly, Dawn, sometimes you scare AnElephant.
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Oh yay!
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You’ve definitely mastered the art of seeming to tell, if not a happy tale, a tale of normality, then twisting that on its head and leaving us elsewhere.
janet
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AnElephant has barely mastered the art of tying his shoe laces, but is nonetheless delighted by your praise!
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Hey, laces are difficult with only a trunk!
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Ah, what is it with all the chilling tales this week. This was masterfully done.
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AnElephantCant speak for the others.
Happy you enjoyed.
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Not the kind to bear a grudge then. 🙂 I loved the way the piece descended from what seemed like a spot of childhood worship to vengeful indifference. Well constructed.
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Thank you, Sandra, words of appreciation are always so welcome.
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Terrific take on the prompt!
Dark tale not a romp…
Fell off my seat with a thump
Gasp!! Another trump!!
Humpff.
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AnElephantCant get angry with Emmy
Though he has told her about 10 million and 1 times
He likes to eat bunnies
He does all the funnies
And on his own blog he writes the cool rhymes
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Ouch! My knuckles hurt….and my side is splitting.
AnElephant does the funnies.
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I think not killing and turning your back are two separate things.. love your tale here.
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A fine line, perhaps, Bjorn.
Thanks for your comment.
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Dear Elephant,
As always, your sweet rhymes and comments before your story do nothing to prepare us for it. Like a quiet predator in the snow, your ending stalks and overtakes. Nicely done. I leave smiling.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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As always, your kind words leave AnElephant glowing.
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