Tales of humour, whimsy and courgettes
“The second wedding was a disaster,” sighed Yuffie.
“How come?” asked Reala.
“Well,” pushed in Fuen, “you know Yuffie’s tried a few sports right?”
“Yes,” replied Reala.
“Well, she thought it would be a good idea to throw her ball into the crowd instead of a bouquet. Like they do at the end of football and tennis matches, you know?” said Fuen.
“Right,” said Reala.
“That’s not a good idea when your current sport is ten-pin bowling,” sighed Yuffie.
Macmillan nurses: https://www.macmillan.org.uk/
Mental health: https://www.mind.org.uk/
Talk to someone: https://www.samaritans.org/
Capricorn (ep. 75)
Then came the scrabbling on the windows. Fingernails scraping, scratching. Asking, then demanding, to be let in.
No petrol, no weapons, no escape.
We lock the doors as if it would make a difference. They’d get in eventually.
You keep trying, right up to that last moment. Refusing to believe what you can see – the worst.
The cracking of a window, our final screams.
For this weeks #Colour_Collective, I took the little troll from the London Underground horror short and flashed her some amber eyes. Holy crap she looks ebil!
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“I remember your first wedding,” said Fuen.
“That was a good one,” said Yuffie.
“You asked me to be chief Usher,” smiled Fuen.
“Oh really?” asked Reala. “Did you take the position.”
“Kind of,” said Fuen. “I learned a few of his songs, but there was no way I was performing the dance moves.”
“My missus is an awful cook,” sighed Yuffie.
“How come?” asked Fuen.
“Well,” started Yuffie, “I left her to bake a few piles of dough the other day. I’d separated everything into different bread types. All she had to do was put it in the oven for various lengths of time. She burned the lot.”
“Oh dear,” said Reala.
“Mmmhmm,” motioned Yuffie. “When I saw there was naan left, I entered a pitta dispair.”
“I remember when my last wife had a kid,” pondered Fuen, ruffling her feathers.
“Oh aye?” asked Reala.
“Yeah,” said Fuen. “I remember calling the doctor and asking what we should do. The doctor asked if this was her first child…”
“And?” pressed Yuffie.
“I said no,” continued Fuen, “I was her wife…”
Capricorn (ep. 74)
I watched my last breath drift up, past my face. An elegant display of silver bubbles.
She held my foot. Fingers clasped so tight my toes were already numb.
One last gasp, the water rushed into my lungs.
My daughters face, already a memory.
A very art-centric Friday post this week. The lady at the top is Dryad. I used to have a thing for doodling nature creatures. With ivy arms and tree trunk legs. They all used to have flowers for heads or something similar to this. Dryad’s my submission for #Colour_Collective this week.
Click the image to expand. I get asked if I can supply larger prints of my story images quite often. Unfortunately, the answer is no. I draw 6 panels to an A4 page. That doesn’t scale up well. But I have been debating taking commisions. I had a go with printing a photo onto a canvas texture paper and doodling straight on top. I do love the effect it gives. Fancy something specific? Want to commision an image of your favourite Fears? Drop me a message.
Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash
Not a fear, but my submission to Scribblers Cove. Inspired by Daniel Cantus scribbly style.
Grey Moon – Friday (ep. 52)
“My missus ain’t happy with me at the moment,” sighed Yuffie.
“Why not?” asked Reala.
“She said she wanted sex to be more magical between us,” replied Yuffie.
“And?” pushed Fuen.
“She threw a tantrum when I pulled a bunch of flowers and a deck of cards out from under the pillow,” moaned Yuffie.
Little Fears 