(Photo copyright: Al Forbes)
Jean-Pierre lined a 30-quart pot with a small pillow and placed it on his head. He looked ridiculous, but the sky was falling and he had to get to the bomb shelter.
As he stepped outside, a lagging German bomber let loose its parting shot. The buildings around him exploded like eel in a frying pan. Jean-Pierre’s head gear shielded him from flying debris as a scowling bust of Apollo was torn from l’hôtel de ville and thrown to his feet. He picked it up and ran. A souvenir of hell, he thought, if either of us survives Armageddon.
(Written for Friday Fictioneers, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. November 8, 2013.)
vb's reverbs 
love the eel in the frying pan VB, have you ever seen it ? A good write.
I have–it takes a strong stomach to eat it after watching the pieces bounce around in the pan.
I have had the eel sushi which is good. This sounds pretty good too ( as long as I don’t watch it prepared )
Great take on the prompt – and all to realistic from what I’ve read of the bombing raids in wartime. War is definitely Hell – stupidity is also Hell and that is what war is.
Pretty hefty wartime souvenir. I’m sure it matches the one he’ll always have in his memory.
Just wonderful. It’s so vivid! And that’s a cool souvenir even if it is from Hell.
Well written and clever.
AnElephant likes this.
And the winner for the best simile: The buildings around him exploded like eel in a frying pan.
Bravo, darling. Bravo.
Easy to picture, really well-written piece. Surreal and mad. I like it.
Like eels in a frying pan… I can actually see that. Though, I prefer to eat eel with my sushi. 😉 I like the way you took this to a totally different time and place.
Loved the eel in the frying pan simile. Perhaps it should have been the bust of Mercury as he guides souls to the underworld. Either well wonderfully written.
Very intense.
Action packed, I was left breathless. Well done.
This is great-loved that Jean-Pierre had the presence of mind to protect himself en-route the bomb shelter and even in the face of imminent danger, he does not forget to pick up a “souvenir”-it made me giggle:-)
I have never seen an eel let alone eat it but we have a fish in India-it is a delicacy eaten in the East-& this fish (called “koi” in the local lingo-not to be confused with the Koi we had as part of the challenge just last week)refuses to die and continues to jump around in the pan,enjoying its last few breaths in the hot oil, for a few minutes I guess,lol!
Dear VB,
I love the image of him running down the road with a pot on his head, carrying a stone head. Perfectly imagined and imaginatively written.
Aloha,
Doug
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Great imagery in each sentence. The explosive popping of the eel was a highlight
A very good description of the chaos of war. Well done.
Brilliant – love the eel description, just perfect.
Dear VB.
My favorite part of this was the image of his improvised helmet. You had me there. I think I might have even ducked. Well done from end to end. Good job.
Shalom,
Rochelle
I loved the image of a man with a bucket over his head carrying a stone head under his arm as he trotted down the street. As they used to say in an old cartoon I watched as a kid, “There’s something you don’t see everyday . . .”
Wonderful imagery and realism simultaneously. You put us in the middle of that bombing run. Well done.
Here’s mine: http://unexpectedpaths.com/friday-fictioneers/sentinel/
An amazing story and well told. I especially like the makeshift helmet. It’s a clear vision of a civilian in wartime who’s thinking about how to get through the bombing alive.
I’m pretty sure I’d rather risk the bombers than eat the eel. But it’s a cool graphic tale, I’m routing for Jean-Pierre, all right!
This was brilliant writing.. a chilling piece but I guess the bust would be a memory of survival for Jean-Pierre in the end.
I didn’t know that about eel. EEEK. I can just picture that pothead!