You can lose your head for that.

This post is submitted to Friday Fictioneers.

PHOTO PROMPT © Danny Bowman

No trees grew in this desolate part of the country. He knew this area well. Every year he made this trip to collect taxes due the King.

“You know this place?” his companion whispered.

“Oh, aye, I know most places through this part of the Highlands. Wouldn’t wander here cept tis’ the King’s brother-in-law who needs to pay his share.” 

“ What fate awaits him if he refuses?” his companion asked.

“His Majesty has a wee bit of a temper and doesn’t take well with those who displease him. One Royal Lady lost her head when she offended.”




This post submitted for Sunday Photo Fiction.




“Harold, that’s the fourth time you have hit the curb this trip. And we just left Heathrow and have another 120 Kilometers to go before we get to Bath.”

“I’ve never driven on the wrong side of the road before. I’m afraid if I cross the center line I’ll probably over correct. And that roundabout back there, that was something else. Pretty good idea for us Americans. If you can’t decide which road to take you just keep going around and around until you figure it out.”

“I have to hand it to you Harold, you really did a fantastic job in planning this trip. Fifteen days touring England, Wales, Ireland, Northern Ireland and Scotland. We are going to have a ball. It’s a lot to see in such a short time but I know we can do it.”

“Honey, it may take a little longer than we expected.”

“Why is that Harold?’

“See that traffic sign ahead?”


“What does it say?

“Heathrow, 5 Kilometers.”

“I hate the English already!”








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