Hugh W. Roberts

The Riddle of Twelfth Night

Published on Jan 29, 2019Dec 29, 2025 by Hugh W. Roberts68 Comments

While trudging through the thick snow with her team, Judy Morrison’s mind was in overdrive. For years, she’d been trying to solve the puzzle of the thirteenth day of Christmas, something mankind had mistakenly taken for granted, and was now almost on the verge of solving the riddle.

Everybody thought that Christmas had twelve days, yet why did the twelfth night of Christmas fall on the thirteenth day?

Jonathan, Judy’s boyfriend, had given her twelve gifts: one on each day of the twelve days of Christmas. On the night he gave her gift number eleven, the night of January 4^th, Judy had visions that the team were being watched by a mysterious force. As the clock struck midnight, and the twelfth day of Christmas arrived, Judy woke screaming from a terrible nightmare.

“What’s wrong,” asked Jonathan, rubbing his eyes, as the cold winds battered their tent.

“We’re all going to die on the sixth day of January,” cried Judy.

“What? Don’t be silly. Go back to sleep. It was just a nightmare.”

Several minutes later, Judy found herself counting backwards to December 25^th, the first day of Christmas. It still didn’t add up why ‘Twelfth Night’ was on the night of the 6^th of January, still over a day away.

The following evening, Jonathan gave Judy the last of his gifts, an engagement ring. Tomorrow, they would celebrate with the rest of their group when they arrived at their final destination, the mysterious village of ‘Twelfth Night,’ alleged to only appeared on January 6th.

As they waited patiently for ‘Twelfth Night’ to appear, Judy Morrison finally solved the riddle. As she turned to Jonathan to reveal the secret of Twelfth Night, the hand of a mysterious force that had been watching them since the first day of Christmas, froze the group in time.

Its secret was safe again from mankind, a species which, one day, it would conquer.

***

Written in response to the Monthly Speculative Fiction Writing Prompt, from Diana, at Myths of the Mirror. Click here for full details.

Visitors #flashfiction

Published on Apr 20, 2018Dec 29, 2025 by Hugh W. Roberts34 Comments

“We’re safe here in the forest until Marlon gets back. All of you, continue to rest and gain energy from bathing in the dappled light of the forest. Hopefully, we have found our new home.”

For 27 days and nights, they waited for Marlon to return. There was an anticipation of excitement in the air when he came back.

“Marlon, what have you found out? Can we live here?”

“I’m afraid not, your majesty.”

“What? Why not?”

“It’s some of the lifeforms of this world, Sir. They cut down the trees. Soon, nothing of this world will be left.”

Written in response to Charli Mill’s 99-word flash fiction challenge, with the theme of ‘Forest Bathing‘, over at the Carrot Ranch.

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Invisible Balloons

Published on Mar 13, 2018Dec 29, 2025 by Hugh W. Roberts75 Comments

You can’t see me, but I’m watching you. You people interest me. Why are some of you unfaithful to the ones you say you love? Why do some of you murder those of the same kind? Why do some of you allow ‘hate’ to rule your minds?

You don’t know it, but each of you has a balloon. Like me, they are invisible to you but surround each of you. When your balloon bursts, you die.

It won’t be long, now, before my balloon bursts and you will all die. This planet, you all so un-love, will be mine.

I have no idea where this piece of flash fiction came from. I didn’t even have to think about the prompt. The first (and only draft) was precise 99-words long. That’s never happened to me before.

Written in response to the 99-word flash fiction challenge with the theme of ‘Balloons‘ over at the Carrot Ranch.

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Black And White #flashfiction

Published on Feb 6, 2018Dec 29, 2025 by Hugh W. Roberts54 Comments

“Well, we’ll never see the blood properly if the movie is in black and white. It’ll be like watching Hitchcock’s ‘Psycho’ with all that chocolate sauce used in the shower scene,” nagged Margaret.

Not only did Colin, her husband, wish he’d never downloaded the movie illegally, but he wished his wife would just stop nagging him all the bloody time.

Twenty minutes later, as the figure with the knife jumped back into their television set, Margaret’s last sight was that of the real colour of blood from the stab wound to her stomach.

“You wanted colour?” smirked Colin.

***

Written in response to the 99-word flash fiction challenge with the theme of ‘black and white’ over at the Carrot Ranch.

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Five A Day #flashfiction

Published on Nov 27, 2017Dec 29, 2025 by Hugh W. Roberts35 Comments

It was getting harder and harder to get my five a day.

Why had I even come here? It was the worst place I’d ever visited, yet they kept me here because I couldn’t find them anywhere else.

However, time was now running out, and I’d soon have to find another place for my fix.

Maybe I should leave now? Yes, that was probably a good idea.

Then, just as I was about to leave and head for the stars, I heard the cry of the human baby. One last meal, and then I’d leave this almost inhospitable planet.

Written as part of the 99-word Flash Fiction Challenge with the theme of Five a Day, hosted by Charli Mills at the Carrot Ranch.

Comfort Food #flashfiction

Published on May 7, 2017Dec 8, 2025 by Hugh W. Roberts45 Comments

“Strawberry cheesecake ice cream? A family-sized fruit and nut chocolate bar? Iced-coconut sponge? What the heck is going on, Simon?”

“Comfort, you said, so I got you some of your favourite comfort foods. I thought the popcorn would bring back memories of our first date. These will all make you feel better. Oh, there’s one more thing.”

Julia rummaged around the shopping bag, hoping he’d got her what she wanted.

“Hot-cross buns? Are you kidding me? When I said comfort, I meant something I could put on my piles so I could sit down and be more comfortable!”

***

Written in response to Charli Mills 99-word flash fiction challenge with the theme of comfort food.

Fluff #flashfiction

Published on Apr 21, 2017Dec 29, 2025 by Hugh W. Roberts57 Comments

“Oh, my goodness, what are you doing?”

“Well, you did say you wanted me to help get the fluff out.”

“Yes, but not with a screwdriver. Is there anything else you can use?”

“No. Nothing to hand. Now, do you want me to remove the fluff from your belly button?”

“Yes, but I’m sure I can hear something creaking.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Right, here we go. Ready? A slight twist, and it should be out.”

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I never expected that to happen. Allow me to pick up your bum and screw it back on.”

***

The moral of the story – never insert a screwdriver into your belly button and twist because your bum will fall off!

Written in response to Charli Mills 99 word flash fiction challenge with the theme of Navel.

Audrey Hepburn & The Chocolate Bar – What Happened Next?

Published on Apr 17, 2017Dec 8, 2025 by Hugh W. Roberts86 Comments

My recent post, The Trouble With Chocolate, where I dissected a commercial for a bar of Galaxy chocolate (Dove in the U.S.A), which features an Audrey Hepburn look-a-like, had me wondering what on earth happened to Audrey after she got in that strange man’s car.

Here is the commercial again, before I give you my version of what I think happened. Have a look at it, and then allow me to pick up the story for you.

The cool breeze passed Audrey’s face. The area around her mouth, now covered with chocolate, felt a little stiff but smelled heavenly.

She looked down as the stranger driving the car stared at her through the rear-view mirror. His eyes were a deep, dark brown, almost the same colour as the chocolate smothered across her face. She looked up again and wondered why he was driving a right-hand drive vehicle when they were in Italy? Then she remembered, but the answer disappeared as quickly as the chocolate had, once she had got the wrapper off. She still held the world record for eating a bar of Galaxy.

The stranger could not take his eyes off her, narrowly missing a group of chickens and a lady balancing a wheelbarrow on one eyebrow while standing on one leg. Even with her face and dress covered in melted chocolate, he still thought she was beautiful.

He remembered the day he had seen her buying that dress. Blowing kisses at him, she had flirted with him in front of other customers in the shop while he strolled around looking for somewhere to sit down. Then, unfortunately, he had mistakenly walked into a double D cup being worn by a mannequin at least a foot taller than him. The bra had made direct contact with his right eyeball, causing to him shout “ouch” and startle several other customers. By the time he had wiped away the tears, she had gone into the fitting room.

I’ll have to buy a new pair of gloves, she thought to herself, after using them to wipe away the chocolate off her face. Oh, how she wished somebody had invented stain remover. Then she thought she’d try to get away with giving them a quick rinse under the garden tap. “Damn!” she said to herself, having remembered she’d forgotten to bring her heartburn tablets off the old man sitting next to her on the bus.

The stranger blew her a kiss in the rear-view mirror, and she raised a hand to catch it, but a gust of wind caught one of the loose gloves in her hand, and she turned her head and watched it come to rest on the road. He did not stop the car, for he was full of excitement and wanted to get her to the other side of the hill as quickly as he could. He had big plans for the evening, so he put a little more pressure on the accelerator pedal.

No words had passed between them when the car finally came to a stop. He looked at her once more through the rear-view mirror while she picked up her handbag and fumbled inside it. She finally looked up at the building, now in front of her, her glance immediately going to the upstairs windows where she knew the excitement would begin. She felt so excited by the thought of what was about to happen; the heartburn tablets and the woman with the yellow bowl stuck on her head on the bus no longer mattered.

He finally got out of the driver’s seat and walked around, opening the door for her so she could step out. She was totally unaware that the wrapper from the chocolate bar was stuck to the back of her dress as she rose herself up from the back seat.

He put out his hand to help her out, and melted chocolate passed from her hand to his. The excitement for both was now nearing take off. It would not be long before they were inside the beautiful villa where all the waiting would finally come to an end. She looked up at him as he wiped his hand on the back of her dress.

“Why did you accelerate so quickly to get us here? I was enjoying the ride,” she romantically whispered to him.

Putting his solid and rugged arms around her and looking her straight in the eyes, the stranger finally spoke to her.

“The soft top of the car hood is stuck again, and the garage couldn’t fix it. Plus, I think there’s rain on the way because my knees have gone a little stiff. I’m off to watch the football. Stick the car in the garage will you before you have your bath. Your mother is dropping off the kids in ten minutes, and the dog needs walking.”

Audrey’s chocolate-scented bubble bath would have to wait.

-The End-

The Trouble With Chocolate

Published on Apr 14, 2017Dec 29, 2025 by Hugh W. Roberts80 Comments

Can chocolate be trouble? Yes, in my books, it can, and Audrey Hepburn is to blame!

I’m really bothered, severely troubled, and it’s all to do with this commercial.

So there you have it. Cute commercial, yes? But, where does the word ‘trouble’ come into it, and why am I bothered by what Audrey Hepburn is up to on that bus?

Now, I know some of you are shaking your heads and looking at me as if I’ve just announced I’ve purchased a cat flap for a submarine, but please stay with me on this and let me tell you why I think that commercial has made me believe chocolate is nothing but trouble.

Maybe the trouble is to do with the beautiful scenery right at the beginning?

Is it the beautiful Audrey Hepburn look-alike sitting on the bus? She does have incredible eyes, doesn’t she?

Is it what she reveals is inside her handbag when she opens it?

Oh, wait! What about the handsome chap who pulls up in the car beside the bus? No, he’s not my type, and why is there a woman sitting on the bus with a yellow bowl on her head? Did you see her? Yes?

Now, where was I? Oh yes, what was inside Audrey’s handbag? Now, considering she’s sat on a hot bus (because it’s a beautiful sunny day outside and the commercial is set in a hot country), should that chocolate bar not have melted in her handbag? Does the guy sitting next to her look like he needs some Gaviscon? To me, it seems like he has heartburn. Are you still shaking your head?

Is it the music and the song, Moon River, that is the problem, or what about the singer’s voice? Beautiful voice, yeah, but wouldn’t make it on X-Factor or The Voice. Besides, I prefer the original version.

Then there’s that guy in the car. He may be good-looking, but, believe me, I don’t think he’s the one who is in trouble. OK, I wouldn’t turn down an offer of a beer with him just to find out what hair products he uses and discuss why Barbie and Ken never got married, but, believe me, it’s not him.

Right, back to the commercial. Is that a pumpkin on the road Audrey passes when she gets off the bus? Did they have big ripe pumpkins in the middle of summer in the 1950s, and why has somebody painted what looks like two caterpillars above Audrey’s eyes? I’m sure they’re moving around her face.

Could it be the rugged bus driver who is the trouble? Is it him I want to see in Audrey’s place on the bus? Well, no, because who would then drive the bus? Audrey? Not with the shoes she’s wearing. No way! I’d be off that bus quicker than my Aunt Mary being chased down Dagenham High Street by two Store Detectives after sticking a frozen turkey up her jumper and making a run for it.

Now, back to the good-looking man in the car. Do you think he has a big head? I only ask, as when Audrey puts the bus driver’s cap on him before getting into his car, it looks at least two sizes too small for him. On the other hand, maybe the bus driver has a small head? After all, he is bald. Perhaps that is why the cap is far too small for the good-looking man driving the car? What do you think?

How on earth did Audrey get the chocolate bar out of her handbag as the good-looking man whisked her off in his car? I never saw her open her bag and get the chocolate out. Did you? And, come on, Audrey, would you really get into a strange man’s car without even asking his name?

Want to know what happened to Audrey after being driven off in that strange man’s car? Was there really romance in the air? Click here for all the details.

Do you ever have problems with chocolate?

True Stories: Gay Memories – Coming Out Of The Closet #LGBTQI #LGBT

Published on Mar 11, 2017Dec 29, 2025 by Hugh W. Roberts197 Comments

One of the biggest regrets of my life is that I never sat down with my mother and told her that I am gay. I chose, instead, the easy option of writing to her and telling her that I was a homosexual.

Facing Mum for the first time after writing that letter, I felt very nervous as I travelled to her home. I hesitated several times before walking up to the front door, ringing the doorbell, and announcing my arrival.

What a shock I got when she came towards me with open arms and, as she gave me one of her wonderful hugs, heard her whisper, “I always knew, I don’t know why it took you so long to tell me.”

Mum & Hugh — Me and mum. Taken sometime in the 1980s, just after I had told her I was gay.

Not all my family was like mum, though. Some told me they were having difficulty accepting what I was because it wasn’t the sort of thing that happened to men in the area we came from. Hurtful words, but I already knew that the best thing I could do was to keep away from those who were upset by the life I was given, and let them live their lives as they wanted.

Over the years, I regained contact with some of those family members and, thankfully, have the changing face of society to thank for bringing us back together.

The fact that, in the past, there had been a few other men in the family who had never married never seemed to raise any suspicions that the family included gay people. It may have been discussed, but never while I was in the room.

I don’t know if any of those men ever ‘came out.’ Probably not, but it must have been tough for those who were gay when they lived. This made me more determined to live my life as I wanted and not as others expected me to.

Moving to live and work in London in 1986 was one of the most important decisions I’ve ever made. Although the city acted like a wall that seemed to shield gay people, I was still struggling to ‘come out.’

It was a strange situation because the first two jobs I took in London were in industries where other openly gay people worked.

When I took my next job, which would last 23 years, it took me six years to come out, and that was only when I heard the words “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?” Of course, nobody cared that I was gay, yet for all those years I had been terrified of what some of my work colleagues would think about me had I ‘come out’ of the closet.

Fast forward to today, and being gay is widely accepted by much of society. Or is it?

When we moved to our current home in South Wales, both my partner and I felt a little hesitant about whether people would accept us. There are fewer residents here than in the area where we had lived for over 30 years. We were returning to that place where I’d been told that ‘being gay didn’t happen.’ We could not have been more wrong!

People have been so welcoming, and we’re as much a part of the community as anyone else. Strange, though, is that every now and again, when I meet somebody for the first time and am asked who the other guy who walks our dogs is, I find myself hesitating before saying, “He’s my partner.”

Maybe some of the scars from our past never heal?