The Young Watchmaker

(C) Alastair Forbes. Sundays Photo Fiction (SPF), Aug 23, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by Alastair Forbes.
– An Intricate Looking Wristwatch (C) Alastair Forbes. Sundays Photo Fiction (SPF), Aug 23, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by Alastair Forbes.

Everyone has to start somewhere

But he never knew it was so difficult.

Cogs, gears, springs and screws laid around him in a messy circle

and they were scattered all over the work desk.

Tunnel vision is his strongest suit anyway

And right now it was trained on the central gold-piece

A tong in a hand, a screwdriver in the other,

He stared with squinted eyes magnified a thousand fold

Fiddle, twiddle, a click and a snap,

His eyes widened

Was that it?

Was he done?

He attached the housing, screwed it shut,

inserted the battery, gave it life.

Tick Tick Tick, it was music to his ears.

Word count: 108

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The Young Watchmaker

The Angel That Changed My Life

(C) Alastair Forbes. Sunday Photo Fiction, June 28th, 2015. This photo brings you to the prompt page. Hosted by, Alastair Forbes.
Rolls Royce Angel. (C) Alastair Forbes. Sunday Photo Fiction, June 28th, 2015. This photo brings you to the prompt page. Hosted by, Alastair Forbes.

Magic is real. I discovered magic when I first met my soulmate. When she touches me, the world becomes brighter and feels lighter. I forget all my problems and her presence becomes the only thing that matters.

I did not think I could be any more in love but she proved me wrong when she unfurled her wings. Her beautiful wings. They were as divine as an angel’s, as full as a swan’s, and as majestic as an eagle’s.

She taught me some of her magic. Having her as a teacher had to be the best thing that ever happened to me. I got pretty good at magic too. She changed my life in ways I never imagined. I never imagined that my plan would work either. The statue spell was one of the most difficult spell to master. But it worked, and now she is mine forever.

Word count: 171

The Angel That Changed My Life

With Some Imagination

Wooden solitaire set.
A wooden solitaire set. (C) Alastair Forbes. Sunday Photo Fiction, June 7, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by, Alastair Forbes.

It was intense! The most intense game where the pieces flew off the board mercilessly and unrelentingly as the various champions battled it out. As you watched, you swear it is going in the favor of one, but then you also watched as he was overthrown by a most unexpected assailant. Then as you watched further, that assailant was bested again by yet another assailant.

The audience were kept on the edge of their seats. Even the commentators were confused as they tried to predict the direction of the game, only to be at a loss for words when the tides abruptly turned, or at least, that was how he imagined it to be as he played his game of solitaire.

Word count: 121

With Some Imagination

The Little People

(C) Alastair Forbes. Sunday Photo Fiction, May 24th, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by, Alastair Forbes
– A pair of anchors. (C) Alastair Forbes. Sunday Photo Fiction, May 24th, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by, Alastair Forbes

Alex and Gilberto were neighbours, but they did not know that.

Alex lived in a bungalow in a rich estate, while Gilberto lived in his garden. Gilberto belonged to the Little People, and he lived in a Little Town in Alex’s garden. The Little People were a happy bunch of people. But Gilberto was an exception. He was a painter, and Alex’s garden was a graveyard of inspiration. 

Then Alex’s birthday came, and his parents gifted him with a realistic toy battleship. Alex took it out to the garden to play. But as he swung the SS Catastrophe around, navigating through a barrage of cannon shells, the anchor flew off. Try as he might, Alex could not find it. He felt sorrowful for losing it on the first day he received it. But Gilberto was overjoyed: the anchor made for a perfect centerpiece for landscape art, among the other LEGO houses that Alex generously ‘donated’ over the past few years.

Word count: 160

The Little People

A Close Encounter

(C) Alastair Forbes. Sunday Photo Fiction, May 17, 2015.  This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by Alastair Forbes
(C) Alastair Forbes. Sunday Photo Fiction, May 17, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page. Hosted by Alastair Forbes

When I first regained consciousness, I was afraid to open my eyes. I have heard of the rumors they spoke of. He was known as ‘The Re-assembler’. They called him that because he takes you apart, limb by painful limb, then he reassembles you, plunging new parts into your sockets, then he leaves you there, forgotten, to bleed to your death.

But eventually I opened my eyes, and the sight that greeted me was worse than death. I was in a graveyard, with corpses lain everywhere. Then I saw The Re-assembler. The stories failed to mention that he was a giant. He peered at me curiously behind bespectacled
eyes. I squirmed beneath the scrutiny, but I was caught in his vice-grip.

This was it. This is my end. I told myself as I embraced for what was yet to come.

The Re-assembler suddenly straightened himself from his squatting position, a new spark behind his eyes as if an idea has just occurred to him. He whirled around, muttering to himself, “Where did I put that sword…”

Sword! Is he going to cut me apart?!

But my panic was unnecessary. Without warning, the Re- assembler bellowed in rage and began hopping on one foot. I rotated my body as much as I can in the vice-grip and
realized he has stepped on an ice-cream truck. Then my world came crashing to the floor. It all happened so quickly. But I took in the facts: I was back on the floor, and the grip around me was loosened. The Re-assembler was spread-eagled on the floor.

This is my chance! I need to escape!!

Discombobulated, but with adrenaline coursing through my body, I gathered the energy to pry myself out of The Re-assembler’s hands and boarded the ice cream truck, which still functioned, oddly enough, and drove myself away from that land of horrors.

Word count: 312

A Close Encounter

Wonderful Williams the Weather Wizard

(C) Barbara W. Beacham. Sunday Photo Fiction, May 10, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page, hosted by Barbara W. Beacham
(C) Alastair Forbes. Sunday Photo Fiction, May 10, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page, hosted by Alastair Forbes.

There was a magician on the sidewalk. He called himself ‘Wonderful Williams The Weather Wizard.’

He was astonishing. He wowed the crowds with illusions and magic tricks that the world has never witnessed before. He summoned miniature tornadoes and air sprites. He made soft fluffy clouds form around himself and then he vanished, only to then materialize from thin air afterwards. The crowd were enthralled and thoroughly entertained. They were calling him a genius for inventing such tricks.

But of course, I knew they were not just merely tricks. They were real.

I was watching him from opposite the road, disguised as a gardener watering the plants. If anyone looked closely, they would notice the water emerging from my fingertips, not the hose.

He was one of us, I’m certain of it.

I raised my head to the sky and focused, making the rainbow appear. Soon, they will be here to collect him.

Word count: 153

Wonderful Williams the Weather Wizard

Beneath the Glass

(c) Alastair Forbes. Sunday Photo Fiction May 3, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page, hosted by Alastair Forbes.
(c) Alastair Forbes. Sunday Photo Fiction May 3, 2015. This photo brings you to the challenge page, hosted by Alastair Forbes.

He would not suspect a thing.

But maybe he would, he’s a smart guy. No one else would think to hide nuclear launch codes on thier watch.

Wait, I need to shut up and concentrate. I’m dealing with a genius here. But unluckily for him, I’m smarter.

But still, these spybots are not easy to control. It took me all day just to get it to land on his watch. But finally! The damn bug landed right where I wanted it to!

Snap snap snap… alright, I got those pictures… now, which city to blow up first?


Word count: 116

Beneath the Glass