Mutiny

(100-word flash fiction)

“Aren’t you going to give me a story this week?”

“I just did. Where the boy loses his arms and now cannot be a drummer, he wishes he was dead and these light beings come through the ceiling and carry him off.”

“Too whacky!”

“You know I hate giving you literal stories. So, it will have to be whacky.”

“No, please, something else.”

“No, please, you’re getting too hard to please. Stop asking. I prefer it up here among the light beings. Have you any idea how beautiful the harp sounds up here?”

Which is how I lost my muse.

~~~

Happy New Year, dear Friday Fictioneers. May you be blessed with peace, joy and good health (and be spared the deadly C). Many thanks to you lovely Rochelle, for being the gracious hostess ♥

Photo prompt –

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

Click on the froggie to read the other stories and contribute your own

38 comments on “Mutiny

  1. Those muses. Sometimes, I can’t keep up. Sometimes, I think I need emergency services because she’s comatose.

    Your almost story reminded me of Def Leopard. Their drummer lost his arm, only one, in a car accident. The band shut down while they had a drum kit made to accommodate a one-armed drummer, and he learned to play it.

    • What an awesome true story! If my muse had not been loafing off, she could have worked on it.
      Comatose… hahaha 😀 I think they tire of humans sometimes because sometimes when they give us ideas we are in the loo or watching TV and don’t give them attention, They are just taking revenge, letting us know they are not at our beck and cal. It’s vice versa 😀

C'mon, don't be a silent spectator ....

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s