THE COLLABORATOR

How ironic that he should use this car in order to blend in to the street life of Haifa.

When Elias had been a boy the sight of a Volkswagen would have turned heads. Not anymore.

The man crossed the street in front of the car. Elias glanced at the photograph to be sure. It was him. Thirty years older but there was no doubt.

Elias gunned the engine. The man turned. Realisation spread over his face. His past had finally caught up with him.

How apt that he should be killed by a German car, Elias thought as he floored the accelerator.


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Copyright Kent Bonham

Written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).

To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

THE PLOUGHMAN AND THE NAZI

The droning grew louder. McLean, leaning on his pitchfork,  scanned the sky looking for the source.

An RAF flyer, he thought. Not unusual in the evening, although this aeroplane sounded much lower than normal.

The noise exploded over the ridge, knocking McLean off his feet. As he fell backwards he saw the low-flying ‘plane, with the Balkenkreuz insignia painted under the wings.

Lying on his back, McLean watched a parachute mushroom from the cockpit. The plane carried on for another half mile, before it careered into the freshly-ploughed field.

McLean picked himself up. He could see the pilot struggling to free himself from the parachute.

Brandishing the pitchfork in front of him, McLean approached. ‘I think you’re a wee bit lost, laddy,’ he called.

The pilot, dazed from his ordeal, raised his hands to the sky and stared at the menacing man coming towards him.

Hauptmann Alfred Horn, I have an important message for the Duke of Hamilton.’

‘David McLean, ploughman. I think you better come with me.’


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Copyright J S Brand

In May 1941, Rudolf Hess, Deputy Fuhrer to Hitler, flew from Bavaria to Scotland, crash landing at Floors Farm, south of Glasgow. Ploughman David McLean, brandishing a pitchfork, captured Hess (who initially identified himself as Alfred Horn), before handing him over to the Home Guard. The real reason for Hess’s bizarre flight remains a mystery, although it is believed he wanted to negotiate peace, possibly without Hitler’s knowledge. Read more about Hess and his flight on WIKIPEDIA.

Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story in around 150 words, based on the weekly photo prompt. Thanks as always to the challenge host Priceless Joy. For more information visit HERE.

To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

WOLVERINE SKETCHES

Continuing my occasional attempts at sketching, this time some efforts at Wolverine from the Marvel X-Men world.

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Pencil sketch
wolv2
Pencil sketch, ink finish
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Pencil sketch
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Pencil sketch, ink finish

All sketches copied from images sourced on Google search. Wolverine images © Marvel Comics. Original Wolverine created by John Romita Snr. and Herb Trimpe.  I am happy to acknowledge any copyright of original images if informed.

My previous attempts at BATMAN SKETCHES can be found HERE.

DIANA

Lise blinked as the light glinted in the small window. The sheet beneath her was cool against her skin.

She lay on her side and watched the sun play on her pale flesh. Lifting her hand she placed it on her stomach. Auguste would notice the broadening abdomen soon.

Today he promised to finish. He had gone ahead to begin without her. She could tell he was pleased with the painting although they would never accept it at the Salon.

Putting on her peignoir she wandered outside. The bright sun warmed her as she followed the path through the trees. Her spirits lifted as she felt the new life growing inside her.


diana
Diana, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, 1868
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Copyright Janet Webb

Written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).

To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

Lise Trehot modelled for most of Pierre-Auguste Renoir‘s early works and was rumoured to have been his mistress. She is believed to have given birth to a boy, Pierre, in 1868, but it is unclear what became of him. In 1870 she gave birth to a girl, Jeanne, who Renoir supported financially for the rest of his life. After she stopped posing for Renoir, Lise never spoke to him again, and Renoir never mentions her in any memoirs or interviews.

 

THE NEW KING

He looked down upon his ragtag army of waifs and strays, born and reared in the streets, just like him.

Now they had organisation and purpose. No longer fighting among themselves, no longer squabbling over meagre scraps. He had brought them together, united against their common enemy.

From the rooftop he looked at the skyline of the distant metropolis. The tall, modern skyscrapers gleamed under the calm blue sky. This was where the war would play out.

Inside them the rich and powerful had only heard hints and rumours about the coming storm. Murmurs of a leader among the poor who had given up hope in negotiations and politicians and religious salvation. A boy who had decided the only way to achieve real change, real social justice, was through force.

Here, among the colourful concrete, he was king among his people. Now, the time had come to lead them to a new life where they could all live like kings and queens in the tall palaces of the rich.

Above him, clouds swirled and the sky grew darker.


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Copyright Grant-Sud

Written as part of Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. The challenge is to write a flash fiction story in around 150 words, based on the weekly photo prompt. Thanks as always to the challenge host Priceless Joy. For more information visit HERE.

To read other stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.