David And The Monster

All had been quiet in David’s garden. In fact, everything was perfect. Even all the people he’d just been chatting to around the big table had seemed happy.

However, after a particularly busy morning, he’d come out into his back garden to get some fresh air and to take in the perfection he thought he had created over the last six years.

While walking into some shade, to stop the hot sun from melting his face (climate change was something else David needed to tackle), the beautiful little house, he liked to call his ‘man cave’, had come into view.

#writephoto #fiction #Brexit
Image credit: Sue Vincent

He hadn’t been down there for some time, ever since he had discovered the monster at the bottom of his garden. His so-called friend, Nigel, had claimed he had created the monster. How David had managed to get Nigel’s horrible monster into his ‘man cave’ all on his own, he had no idea.

“Should I go and listen by the door?” David had asked himself. “It should be dead by now because it hasn’t eaten anything since I locked it in there.”

Creeping quickly towards the door of his man cave (to stop the sun melting his face), David had put his ear close to the door and listened intensely, but all he had heard was birdsong and the faint sound of traffic.

“Hello. Are you dead, Mr Monster?” David had whispered, but his question had been met with no response from inside the man cave.

Taking a key out of his trouser pocket, David had carefully unlocked the door and turned the handle. As it had creaked open, the monster inside had made its move and burst through. It wasn’t long before David had been gobbled up and never heard from again.

“Yum, yum” the Brexit Monster had growled, “a tasty human man. I do hope my next meal is a female human.”

***

(Almost) Three years later

All had been quiet in Theresa’s garden. In fact, in her eyes, everything was going to be perfect. But what was in that strange little building, the previous owner, David, had called his man cave, at the bottom of the garden of 10 Downing Street?


Written in response to the #writephoto challenge hosted by Sue Vincent at Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo.

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41 comments

        1. They would indeed, Sally. There are so many political trolls out there so I (try) and stay well clear of talking about politics and religion. Sue’s photo prompt led me down a slippery path, but I had great fun writing this piece of flash fiction.

    1. I’ve always thought David had a face that looked like it came straight out of Madam Tussard’s, Terri. He probably moisturises every day, and the studio lights perhaps don’t help with that look. I had to get in a story about ‘Brexit’ before it blows up. This seemed like the perfect prompt.

  1. Ha! Good real-world twist, Hugh. Loved it.
    Wordpress won’t let me “like” or comment on most blogs (it’s weirdly random), but maybe I can get around that via the Reader. Yet another WordPress pain in the rear…
    Have a good week. Hugs!

    1. Thanks, Teagan.

      I hear that same problem is affecting a lot of other bloggers. I know Dan has written about it a lot recently. It hasn’t affected me, but I know it would drive me nuts if I could not leave a ‘like’ or comment.

      Hugs to you.

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