September’s Hundred-Word Story

Do you remember I’ve responded to the Hundred Word Story challenge a couple of times? I didn’t respond in August but I’m still looking at the challenge and thought September’s image looked worth writing.

“We visit your mother every bloody week! I’ve had enough – this week, I’m staying home”. Zeus hammers his clenched fist onto the dining table.

“You’re my husband… We’re a couple… I want us to go together.”, retorts Hera, unwilling to budge.

After a moment’s thought, Zeus proposes, “I can see there’s only one solution here”, before flouncing angrily from the room. A pregnant pause, before he bellows, “You coming? I’m waiting.”

“Boys”, sighs Hera, as she eventually follows.

Next door, Zeus counts down. “Ready… set… GO!”, he commands, as the pair grip their controllers and the game of Scalextric begins.

[100 Words]

I haven’t submitted anything yet. I figure I’ll sit on it and ponder any edits, as there’s still three weeks until the end of the month.

But it just kinda tickled me, that the gods would settle an argument by playing “Scalextric”… with real trucks! Especially as from what I am just reading about Hera, she seems a bit of a henpecker, doesn’t she?

That Smell Again

inspired by Fandango’s One Word Challenge (FOWC) of 11 September 2021, choreography.

A young politician called Ted,
Softly spoken, impeccably bred,
His esteemed choreography,
In applied lexicography.
Just left us all scratching our heads.

Okay, you can substitute Ted for any name you’d prefer!

Prompt image for the Fandango One Word Challenge prompt


This is my response to this week’s Flashback Track Friday prompt, where we were given Summertime by Janis Joplin and asked to:

Write an elegy to summer.

In vivid costume, peacock blue,
Under sultry summer sun,
A throng arrives at Ladbroke Grove,
To carnival they’ve come.

Banana yellow, brilliant white,
The main parade, the rainbow swirls,
With sunburnt orange, headdress gole,
The stoops, the jumps, the moves, the whirls.

A thousand systemsaset the tune,
On every corner, hum the theme,
Cacophony of much-loved sounds,
Fuelling vision, fuelling dream.

A gastronome’s Carribean delight,
Of plantain, yam, goat, chicken, rice,
A glutton’s dream, unbounded choice,
Have just arrived in paradise.

Early adulthood, I would visit the Notting Hill Carnival each year. It took placethat last weekend in August, which is a bank holiday in the UK.

That timing seemed significant, because everything starts moving again in September, so this felt like a massive blowout to celebrate the end of summer.

I can remember going with a few girlfriends. Mostly, it was me that was really into the event, they came along because they’d heard of it and wanted to see for themselves. One Jamaican girlfriend, however, was a young mum and introduced me to “children’s day”, which preceded the main carnival days. That’s a nice touch, I think.

It started in the mid Sixties as a Carribean carnival, and just grew. By the time I started going it was popular, but now they measure estimated attendances in the millions. That’s too many people for me. They call it Europe’s Biggest Street Party (it takes place just on open roads) and I wouldn’t argue.

I found some images on the web.

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