Sunday, 19 June 2016


Being the first human being ever to be born with X Ray vision I would have made a wonderful brain surgeon.

My fame would have travelled far and wide. One day you would have found my eyes staring at you from the surface of a ten dollar bill. When I am dead and buried somebody no doubt would build a statue of me. Somewhere suitable. Times Square. Miami Beach. Or perhaps somewhere out of harms reach like Zocalo or next to a rusty well in the middle of the Yemen.

But brain surgery isn't for me. I prefer to keep my talents to myself. Why waste it when I can enjoy it?

You can't beat sitting on a warm beach with a good book, a cold beer and several hundred scantily clad women walking around totally oblivious to the fact that I can see everything. Some days I prefer a busy tube station. A hospital forecourt. Nothing gets in the way. No coat is too thick. No scarf too tightly stitched.

Who the hell wants to be a statue anyway? School girls giggling at your triple chin. Sea gulls forever shitting on your fat bald head.

                                                                         (C)  Ally Atherton 2016

Written for this week's Sunday Photo Fiction Challenge


Saturday, 18 June 2016


                         'Who's a good boy?'

He was fed up of forever being dragged around by that bunch of muppets. After you've experienced one haunted castle too many, enough is enough.

He was getting old and weary. Thin and hungry. And all the weirdos ever fed him were those silly little snacks that wouldn't fill a house fly. The bastards.

Fed up of chasing grown men dressed up as werewolves it was time for Scooby to retire.

'Who's a good boy?'

Well this gullible idiot obviously. He jumped up. It was all over in a flash.

He went straight for Shaggy's neck.

                  (C) Ally Atherton 2016

100 words written for the the 100 word challenge hosted by Tara at

Thin Spiral Notebook

Why not give it a go and check out the rest of this week's entries?

Wednesday, 8 June 2016

Karaoke In The Forties


At Grandma's house you had to sing to let everybody know you were on the toilet.

I remember the outside loo with the cut up squares of newspaper hanging from a string on a nail that somebody long ago drilled into the cold damp walls. But most of all I remember Granddad's lifeless body lying on the floor after Grandma hit him with the coal shovel.

Is there anything worse than dying in the middle of a crap whilst you're singing The White Cliff's of Dover?


The war didn't kill him. Grandma did. Granddad loved Vera Lynn way to much.

                                                                               C) Ally Atherton 2016

100 Words written for this week's challenge over at Thin Spiral Notebook 


Check out the other entries and why not give it a go? It's a great way to discover new writers.

Sunday, 5 June 2016


This morning I turned the rain on.

Nothing major. A small gentle drizzle. It's a great way to wake up.

Mrs Palmer turns the snow on every morning. I think she's turning into an Eskimo. One day I'll wake up to find an igloo has replaced her two up two down house and her cat has turned into a reindeer.

We have too many choices. Sometimes I can't get anything done because I'm too busy deciding to have a sunny day or a rainy day and sometimes you can't beat a thunder storm to start the day with a bang.



                                                                                      (C) Ally Atherton 2016

100 words.

Written for the 100 word challenge hosted by Tara over at Thin Spiral Notebook.

Please check out this week's other entries and why not give it a go yourself?

Thursday, 31 March 2016


                            Image by Oscar Delmar

In the summertime I used to hold buttercups to my skin to see if I liked butter.

Now they've locked me in the yellow room for using the forbidden letter.

I'm yellow from top to bottom. The oxygen I need is thick, yellow and chokes me. Even my sleep is yellow. You might not think it sounds like the worst punishment but yellow is the colour of hell. It slowly slips into your mind, your body when you're not looking.

You become yellow. It becomes you.

Never use to the forbidden letter. Don't even whisper it. They'll know. You'll die.

                                                                         (C) Ally Atherton 2016

100 Words written for the 100 Word Challenge hosted by Tara Roberts over at

Thin Spiral Notebook.

Take a peek and maybe join in. It's fun. And it's a great way of connecting with other writers.
This week you have to write 100 words without using the letter A.

Saturday, 26 March 2016


I once had a bear called Jack.

When I first got him he whispered in my ear that his main purpose in life was to be the keeper of all my secrets. I was dubious at first so I wrote a list so that we both knew where we stood.

1   I shall whisper my secret once and once only. No repeats.

2  You shall never reveal any of my secrets to a third party as long as we both shall live.

3  You are my bear and nobody else's. You are the keeper of my secrets only.

He kept his word but as I got older he grew fatter with all my secrets until one day his stomach came open and my secrets fell out. I did the best I could but it was too late. My secrets were all over the neighbourhood. They developed a life of their own and I couldn't stop them.
                       Jack didn't die but I think he saw a little glimpse of Heaven. He was devastated and has never spoken to me since. Even though I sewed his stomach back together again he is no longer capable of holding my secrets. I whisper them into his ear and they come back out again. I now have nobody to keep my secrets. I have to keep them myself but I am putting on weight and no matter how much I try I can't lose it.

It's the secrets. They are building up inside and are preparing for the big day when my stomach will burst open like Jack's. I'm waiting for it to happen. Jack is too but is too scared to say anything. Maybe I will also catch a little glimpse of Heaven.


                                                         (C) Ally Atherton 2016

289 words written for the Light And Shade Challenge. Check it out and maybe join in the fun.

Saturday, 19 March 2016


                                 A red ticket is all you need for an erotic dream.

I made it to the front of the queue.

'Erotic dream?'


'Add a blue ticket and you can have double the pleasure.'

I handed over my blue ticket.

I couldn't wait to get home and for the day to draw to an end. The anticipation was unbearable. And then I saw her in the queue.

My wife. Head down clutching her red ticket.

What a bitch. Was I not good enough for her anymore?

And was that a green ticket I spotted in her left hand?

Triple pleasure.


                                                                          (C) Ally Atherton 2016

Written for the 100 word challenge over at Thin Spiral Notebook, hosted by Tara Roberts.

Take a look and join in. It's fun. This week's word is 'Dream.'