50 Word Thursday # 107 – An Obscure Dream

And the Words: “It sounds plausible enough tonight, but wait until tomorrow. Wait for the common sense of the morning.” – H.G Wells, The Time Machine

She woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. The dream had been so real. She shook her boyfriend awake, who was snoring beside her and described her dream.

“I dreamt I saw a church with an obscure 8-sided tower. A priest came running after me and told me it was the end of the world. People started screaming and the sky turned black.”

Her boyfriend responded sarcastically, “It sounds plausible enough tonight, but wait until tomorrow. Wait for the common sense of the morning.”

The next day they left their hotel room to explore the town and walked down a side street they’d never been before. Her boyfriend held her hand tightly, in his overly protective way that she hadn’t made an issue of, but she stared back in amazement at the obscure 8-sided church tower and she knew what was going to happen next.

[150 Words]

This story was written for the 50 Word Thursday Challenge:


And I also included the following word prompts:



In Velvet Dreams – A Nostalgic Ghostly Tale

As you may know, I am currently taking a break, but wanted to share some of my earliest posts with you, that you may have missed. 

This was the first ghost story I ever wrote on the 5th of April 2018.

Quite appropriate now as Halloween was yesterday.  

All the best 🙂 

In Velvet Dreams

He couldn’t believe it. Ever since he was a little boy, he always wanted one of those grand Victorian houses, like the one in Mary Poppins. With the house prices in London sky high he could see his dream getting further and further away. It was surprising, but here it was for sale, the House of his dreams.

He worked as a freelance journalist and so money was not flowing and sometimes the stream dried up completely for a short time. He had just come to the end of a lucrative contract and he had saved every penny, living mainly on baked beans just so he could get the biggest deposit he could. He was quite lucky in that his Uncle owned the flat he lived in, in Clapton, and so he paid minimal rent.

Continue reading In Velvet Dreams – A Nostalgic Ghostly Tale

A Life on the Edge – A multiple word prompts poem / Double Limerick


I’m living my life on the edge,

I’ve promised and given my pledge,

It may come as a surprise,

But believe me, it’s wise,

Don’t accept the thin end of the wedge


I’ve decided to follow my dreams

No matter how far the extremes

I’ll dance and I’ll revel,

Rules can go to the devil,

There much more to life than it seems.


Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 09/June/2019


I have included the following word prompts:



FOWC with Fandango — Edge



Dreams of Dali – A poem written for the Tuesday Writing Prompt



Image by CarolinaP from Pixabay 

This poem was written for the Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge from the Go Dog Go Cafe. See the link below:

Tuesday Writing Prompt Challenge: Tuesday, March 30, 2019

Dreams of Dali

As I slowly drift to sleep

I trip and fall into foolish dreams.

Where before I counted sheep,

Now I’m caught in torpid schemes.

Dicing with devils in denim hats

Breaking bread with brazen cats

Dancing Dangerously with diplomats.

Oh! What crazy capers my mind unleashes

When lost in a world of lucid dreaming,

Melted clocks and Dali-esque pastiches

Then Suddenly I awaken screaming.

Though darkness fills my dreaming mind,

There’s nothing darker than humankind.


Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 30/April/2019


This poem also contains the following word prompts:




Kreative Kue – Bonfire of Broken Dreams


This Poem was written in response to this picture prompt from Keith Channing’s Kreative Kue Challenge.


Bonfire of Broken Dreams

It’s the burning autumn leaves

That’s making me cry so much,

It isn’t that you’re leaving,

It’s not that I miss your touch.

Continue reading Kreative Kue – Bonfire of Broken Dreams

Tell The Story – A Modern High Noon

Photo credit: William Webb

Sadje of the Blog, Keep it Alive, has tagged me in the challenge. She has chosen this great picture for me. I am going to change things slightly. Rather than a story, I have written a poem instead.

Thank you for Tagging me. 🙂

Here is Sadje’s Post:

Tell The Story Challenge # 7

And here is my poem:

A Modern High Noon


The Sun was up at its Zenith,

That means it was high noon,

And in front of her stood Kenneth,

And to her right was Mr Muldoon.


It was like a scene from a picture,

The gunfight at the OK Corral,

But you hadn’t seen a stranger depicture,

Though it did wonders for her broken morale.


It appeared to be a Mexican standoff,

Though all was not quite what it seems,

She knew something the others couldn’t think of.

Well, after all, it was all part of her dreams.


Only her two pistols were loaded,

And she shot her ex-husband stone dead.

Then walked off with Muldoon, her Lawyer.

Who she’d rather have married instead.


And though dreams were far from reality,

It put a smile on her face for a week.

But it almost damaged impartiality,

When she pinched her lawyers left cheek.


With renewed confidence and vigour

The divorce case was settled quite soon.

For there’s nothing quite like the rigour,

That comes with a dream of High Noon.


Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 31/January/2019




So I hope you enjoyed my attempt at a humorous, narrative poem.


So who shall I choose to pass the challenge on to?

How about,

Laura M Bailey


Hinoeuma (Victoria) of Cosmic Observation


The Rendezvous Club/ Thought for Change.



Here is a picture to inspire you:




Have Fun 🙂

Life’s Restless River – A thoughtful poem.


Sometimes Life is rather like
Clutching a splinter of wood
To stop yourself drowning
In a river of your own
The Iron shoes of regrets
Pulling you down,
While you remain ever hopeful
Your meagre splinter,
Will carry you onwards,
To your dreams.

The journey is instrumental
To appreciate the final destination.

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 12/January/2019



FOWC with Fandango — Instrumental



Kira’s Sunday Scribbles – Realising Life’s futility.


This short poem was inspired by Kira’s Sunday Scribbles, click on this link below:

In a desolate lumber less landscape

We climb a mountain of our immature dreams

only to ski into the mouth of a monster,

life is never quite what it seems.

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 07/January/2019

I have also been inspired by the following prompt words,

Multiple Word Prompt Poem – Dreams Vs Reality.

This poem was inspired by the following word prompts:





Dreaming, possible, peace

Dream, Free, Pageant, Kinky.

Dreams VS Reality

Dreaming of a world at peace

A world where wonders never cease

A world where pain and poverty decrease

When will my dream become real?


Nothing kinky or perverse

Would make my yearnful feelings worse

Yet progress may in time reverse

Without true inner strength and zeal.


A pageant play with smiles of glee.

May make my inner torment flee,

But any relief is only temporary

respite, from what I’m free to feel.


Is it possible these peaceful dreams?

When nothing is quite what it seems.

And people turn to the extremes,

Only time alone will reveal.

What are dreams and what is real.

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 09/December/2018

Multiple Word Prompt Story – A little Sprinkle of Fairy Dust.


daughter, dreams, love




Susan and her daughter sat in the waiting room at their local hospital.

Jenny had never been to the hospital before, well, she’d been born in one, of course, but since then she hadn’t been in one, and her memory didn’t go that far back.

Her Mum sat next to her and wiped away a tear. Jenny was sad too. They had a phone call that morning from the care home that her Grandad lived in. They said he had been found unconscious on the floor of his room. He was in a coma. Jenny couldn’t help thinking it was a funny sounding word for something so sad. Her Grandad used to sit her on his knee and tell her stories. All kinds of stories, but the ones she loved best were the ones with fairies in. Grandad had said, she must always believe in Fairies, and dreams. They are real and dreams do come true, he always said. 

She loved her Grandad very much. 

“Mrs Henderson?” A stern looking lady in a nurses uniform and dark hair swept back into a bun was speaking to her Mum.

“Sorry, Yes?”

“Your Father is still in a coma, I’m afraid, but he is in a stable condition. Would you like to follow me” The Nurse started walking off down one of the many corridors. Her Mum grabbed her daughters hand and quickly followed.

When they walked into the room, Jenny saw her Grandfather lying on the bed, with lots of wires and tubes coming out of him. His face was very pale and his eyes were closed. He looked like he was sleeping deeply. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” The stern nurse said and closed the door behind her. 

Her Mum sat in the chair next to the bed and picked up her fathers hand and held it tightly. 

Jenny stood next to her mother and held her hand too, creating a chain of love

The minutes passed, and Jenny watched her Grandfather’s chest rise and fall gently. Aside from breathing, the only other sound was the monotonous beeping of the heart monitor. She found it reassuring. Her Grandfather was not dead, he was alive, he was only sleeping. Any minute he would open his eyes and smile at her, like he always did. 

But the minutes passed and nothing happened.

There was a gentle tap on the door and another nurse came into the room. She had a friendly, docile nature, not stern like the first one had been. 

“Excuse me, Mrs Henderson. Do you mind signing a few forms?” the nice nurse said.

“Oh, OK? Can I speak to the Doctor too?” Susan stood up and then turned to her daughter.

“Just sit there Jenny, There’s a good girl. I will only be a few moments.”

Jenny sat down in the chair her mother had just vacated and picked up her Grandfathers hand. It was heavier than usual, somehow. All the lines and wrinkles of that hand were familiar to her, as was the faded tattoo of an eagle that was on the back. Her Grandad had got that tattoo when he was a young man in the army. What he called, the ‘Call-up’. He said all young men had to spend time in the army, but it had been after the war. He’d spent most of the time peeling spuds. That’s what Grandad called potatoes. 

Jenny just couldn’t take it any more. She gave her Grandfather’s hand a vigorous shake. 

“Wake Up Grandad! Why won’t you wake up?” Jenny put her head down on her grandfathers shoulder and cried.

Then she remembered a story he had told her, about fairies and their special magic. He had given her a bottle of magic fairy dust as a present last Christmas and she kept it with her always in her pocket. Just in case she needed it. She pulled out a small phial of silver glitter and with a sprinkle here and there, covered her grandfather and the bed.

“Magic Fairy dust, wake my Grandad Up!” She cried. 

‘Beep, Beep, Beep’ went the heart monitor, just as before. Nothing had changed.

The door opened and a tall man wearing a long white coat came in with her Mother. 

“This is Doctor Jessell, Jenny, he’s going to look after Grandad. It’s time we went home now. How about, as a treat, we pick up some fish and chips on the way home? Would you like that?” 

“Oh yes Mummy, they’re my favourite.” 

Susan grabbed her daughter’s hand and they walked out of the room, leaving the doctor behind.

Jenny suddenly pulled away. “Why not wait a bit longer, Mummy? Then Grandad can have some fish and chips with us?”

Susan knelt down and pulled her daughter close. 

“I’m sorry, Jenny. Doctor Jessell doesn’t think he’ll make it. He banged his head hard and they think there may have been some bleeding on the brain. We have to remember all the good times we had.”

As they clung to each other in the hospital corridor, suddenly a door opened and Dr Jessell came striding towards them.

“Mrs Henderson, I’m glad I caught you before you left. He’s awake! Not long after you left, he opened his eyes and spoke. We are just running a few tests to make sure everything’s OK and we will have to monitor him for a couple of days, but there doesn’t seem to be any brain damage after all.”

They walked back into the room. The old man gave them a weak smile and spoke softly.

“Alright Suzie? Why am I all covered in Glitter?”

The End

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 26/November/2018