Mikeyboy
@mikey27.bsky.social
Writes, reads, runs and walks but not all at the same time.
lol! This feels authentic.
November 6, 2025 at 5:32 PM
lol! This feels authentic.
“Ben, she’s lovely. So slender” Aunt Ada raised her Bailey’s to my new girl.
My sister picked at her turkey, “Thin. You need hips to carry a child.”
I pulled my girl into the kitchen, the door ajar to listen.
“Yes, she’s pretty but is she marriage material?”
I’d already decided she was.
#WriteCBC
My sister picked at her turkey, “Thin. You need hips to carry a child.”
I pulled my girl into the kitchen, the door ajar to listen.
“Yes, she’s pretty but is she marriage material?”
I’d already decided she was.
#WriteCBC
November 6, 2025 at 4:04 PM
“Ben, she’s lovely. So slender” Aunt Ada raised her Bailey’s to my new girl.
My sister picked at her turkey, “Thin. You need hips to carry a child.”
I pulled my girl into the kitchen, the door ajar to listen.
“Yes, she’s pretty but is she marriage material?”
I’d already decided she was.
#WriteCBC
My sister picked at her turkey, “Thin. You need hips to carry a child.”
I pulled my girl into the kitchen, the door ajar to listen.
“Yes, she’s pretty but is she marriage material?”
I’d already decided she was.
#WriteCBC
I wondered if it was Cambodia. Chilling. Good luck.
October 2, 2025 at 3:00 PM
I wondered if it was Cambodia. Chilling. Good luck.
horrific - great contrast.
October 2, 2025 at 1:23 PM
horrific - great contrast.
Madeline you are always so generous with feedback - thank you.
October 2, 2025 at 1:21 PM
Madeline you are always so generous with feedback - thank you.
I hear a road. Cars. Lorries. A motorbike. I feel vibrations in the floor. I’ve been unconscious but I don’t know for how long. I taste blood. I’m bruised. I’m cold. My hands and ankles are bound. I wear a tight blindfold. A child has been singing nursery rhymes to me but I know I’m alone. #WriteCBC
October 2, 2025 at 10:35 AM
I hear a road. Cars. Lorries. A motorbike. I feel vibrations in the floor. I’ve been unconscious but I don’t know for how long. I taste blood. I’m bruised. I’m cold. My hands and ankles are bound. I wear a tight blindfold. A child has been singing nursery rhymes to me but I know I’m alone. #WriteCBC
It will be you next month
September 5, 2025 at 1:03 PM
It will be you next month
Wow, with so many brilliant entries I'm over the moon to win.
Congratulations to the runners up, great work, and isn't this a fun prompt competition to enter each month.
Thank you CBC and to Rowan Coleman for choosing my snippet.
Congratulations to the runners up, great work, and isn't this a fun prompt competition to enter each month.
Thank you CBC and to Rowan Coleman for choosing my snippet.
September 5, 2025 at 11:33 AM
Wow, with so many brilliant entries I'm over the moon to win.
Congratulations to the runners up, great work, and isn't this a fun prompt competition to enter each month.
Thank you CBC and to Rowan Coleman for choosing my snippet.
Congratulations to the runners up, great work, and isn't this a fun prompt competition to enter each month.
Thank you CBC and to Rowan Coleman for choosing my snippet.
Thanks, given your entries in this comp, that’s lovely to hear.
September 4, 2025 at 4:05 PM
Thanks, given your entries in this comp, that’s lovely to hear.
lol, had me laughing at the unexpected turn!
September 4, 2025 at 11:24 AM
lol, had me laughing at the unexpected turn!
It looks like a natural, blood-veined, spherical stone, shined and sea smoothed, found on a beach. It was crafted from a cut umbilical cord, resin preserved. She sits on the bed, hugs it, as she rocks back and forth, softly singing “Bring back, oh bring back, bring back my Bonnie to me.”
#WriteCBC
#WriteCBC
September 4, 2025 at 11:14 AM
It looks like a natural, blood-veined, spherical stone, shined and sea smoothed, found on a beach. It was crafted from a cut umbilical cord, resin preserved. She sits on the bed, hugs it, as she rocks back and forth, softly singing “Bring back, oh bring back, bring back my Bonnie to me.”
#WriteCBC
#WriteCBC
Flaps are lifted, then let slam, blocks are shifted and knocked about. Science is fun my girlfriend says, as her 5 year old, not mine, rocket flies around in this hellish cavern. He sticks a finger where he shouldn’t. I distract my girlfriend, leave him to endure the pain a little longer. #WriteCBC
July 3, 2025 at 12:46 PM
Flaps are lifted, then let slam, blocks are shifted and knocked about. Science is fun my girlfriend says, as her 5 year old, not mine, rocket flies around in this hellish cavern. He sticks a finger where he shouldn’t. I distract my girlfriend, leave him to endure the pain a little longer. #WriteCBC
There's two of them.
"Hello, is your Mum in?"
She's got a beaky nose.
"Or Dad?"
He's short and stout. I keep schtum, use my go-away stare.
"A big brother or sister perhaps?"
They run out of options.
"Cat's got his tongue," she laughs to him.
"Nah," I say, slam the door but they'll be back. #WriteCBC
"Hello, is your Mum in?"
She's got a beaky nose.
"Or Dad?"
He's short and stout. I keep schtum, use my go-away stare.
"A big brother or sister perhaps?"
They run out of options.
"Cat's got his tongue," she laughs to him.
"Nah," I say, slam the door but they'll be back. #WriteCBC
June 5, 2025 at 3:54 PM
There's two of them.
"Hello, is your Mum in?"
She's got a beaky nose.
"Or Dad?"
He's short and stout. I keep schtum, use my go-away stare.
"A big brother or sister perhaps?"
They run out of options.
"Cat's got his tongue," she laughs to him.
"Nah," I say, slam the door but they'll be back. #WriteCBC
"Hello, is your Mum in?"
She's got a beaky nose.
"Or Dad?"
He's short and stout. I keep schtum, use my go-away stare.
"A big brother or sister perhaps?"
They run out of options.
"Cat's got his tongue," she laughs to him.
"Nah," I say, slam the door but they'll be back. #WriteCBC
“We’ll just pop in here” my wife innocently said. The artist had a picture ready. “Happy Birthday my love.”
I looked, I squirmed, “It’s you as a mermaid.”
“Isn’t it something?”
“Yes,” I grimaced.
At home she told me where to hang it.
I can’t look at it without thinking of leaving her.
#WriteCBC
I looked, I squirmed, “It’s you as a mermaid.”
“Isn’t it something?”
“Yes,” I grimaced.
At home she told me where to hang it.
I can’t look at it without thinking of leaving her.
#WriteCBC
May 9, 2025 at 7:59 AM
“We’ll just pop in here” my wife innocently said. The artist had a picture ready. “Happy Birthday my love.”
I looked, I squirmed, “It’s you as a mermaid.”
“Isn’t it something?”
“Yes,” I grimaced.
At home she told me where to hang it.
I can’t look at it without thinking of leaving her.
#WriteCBC
I looked, I squirmed, “It’s you as a mermaid.”
“Isn’t it something?”
“Yes,” I grimaced.
At home she told me where to hang it.
I can’t look at it without thinking of leaving her.
#WriteCBC