No one expects the unexpected #writephoto

Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt this week is


Tricia Ashe led a quiet, rather mundane existence. Quiet because she was deaf. Mundane because that how things happened in Viceroy-on-Twistle. She rose at 6.30, had tea and put the lead on Sherpa the dog. Whatever the weather, Tricia and Sherpa set out for the moors no later than 7, setting a brisk if undemanding pace. Their route never varied, circling the small knoll before climbing Gavin’s Bottom, crossing the style at the top and heading back via Donald’s bakery. 

This particular morning, in early December, Trica paused at the summit, stunned by the beautiful sunrise that appeared in front of her in a spectacular explosion of colours. It took her a moment to register the shaking ground, the apparent snow falling from a clear sky and shooting flames belching from the hills opposite for her to realise this was, indeed, a spectacular explosion.

Tricia might have flunked geography at school but she was fairly sure that the Yorkshire Moors were not considered to be active, volcanically. The snow began to lie in thick drifts across the heather – it took her another moment to recognise it as ash. It was wonderful. 

Sherpa began to yowl, not that Tricia heard but she could see the signs. ‘What is it boy?’ She followed where Shera seemed to be pointing. The small Crescent Brook was steaming and appeared to be filling quickly as whatever it was poured down the slopes and headed in the direction of the village, still asleep and unaware of the doom hurtling in its direction.

 Tricia set off at pace, her gumboots flapping as she tried to out run the molten torrent that she just knew was catching up with her. Sherpa, off his lead, was far ahead and might be able to warn the Donalds to leave their bakery, which straddled the Brook as it entered the village.

 Tricia mused on the irony of her asking, only the day before, if Mr Donald might not turn his hand to something different from his usual split tin and large whites that were the staple of his baking.

‘What sort of bread does thee want, missus?’ he had asked gruffly.

Tricia held his gaze, reading his lips. ‘What about lava?’ she had suggested.

‘Humpf. Over me dead body,’ came the reply.

 If she didn’t speed up, thought Tricia, Mr Donald might turn out to be both a good baker and unexpectedly prescient.


About TanGental

My name is Geoff Le Pard. Once I was a lawyer; now I am a writer. I've published four books - Dead Flies and Sherry Trifle, My Father and Other Liars, Salisbury Square and Buster & Moo. In addition I have published three anthologies of short stories and a memoir of my mother. More will appear soon. I will try and continue to blog regularly at about whatever takes my fancy. I hope it does yours too. These are my thoughts and no one else is to blame. If you want to nab anything I post, please acknowledge where it came from.
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22 Responses to No one expects the unexpected #writephoto

  1. He wouldn’t need an oven either 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. noelleg44 says:

    I love where your mind goes, Geoff. Totally unexpected from the beautiful, sweet piece it started out to be.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. How about that? Sometimes one must censor one’s thoughts. 😀 😀 😀 Another good one, Geoff.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. paulandruss says:

    Fantastic tale of Imagination.

    As it says on the label… No one expects the unexpected. I certainly didn’t. A great punchline incidentally.

    It really is one of those stories that gets into your head and haunts you because I kept thinking…’I want to know what happens next.’ But then I realised I don’t need to because I am already making up the continuation scenarios in my head… Powerful stuff Geoff when you can sneak into a reader’s subconscious and leave them pondering!

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Ha! I love the pun at the end, Geoff! Great story 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  6. willowdot21 says:

    I agree with Judy…. enjoyable!!

    Liked by 1 person

  7. AJ.Dixon says:

    Well, that was quite a twist! Rounded off with a brilliant final sentence ☺

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Ha! A full welsh breakfast is nothing without the lava bread. 😀 And it’s very good for thee. Full of them theres iron Mr Geoffrey, sir. Why am I talking in a 19th-century accent? 🤔

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Fab ending, as always. (Looked up ‘lava bread’ but couldn’t find. What is it, exactly?)

    Liked by 1 person

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