Route Nationale 5 – What Pegman Saw

This week Pegman takes us to Madagascar., an island country in the Indian Ocean known for harboring cartoon zoo animals. Okay, just kidding. I’ll leave it to you to find the story in Madagascar. You’ve got up to 150 words, be it prose, poetry, essay, or a brand new format invented by you.

Feel free to use the location supplied in the prompt, or chose your own from the limited amount of photospheres and streetview in Madagascar.

Once your piece is polished, share it with others using the linkup below.

Raid RN5 – Off Road – @hiluxdago

Click me to play

Route Nationale 5

“I’ve decided what our next adventure vacation is going to be.  Madagascar!”

“Land of the lemur, of the best vanilla?  Where my favourite Disney movie takes place?  I’m in!”

“I thought you might.  Now, while we are there, we shall participate in the RN5 Run.  It could take up to two-three days to complete.”

“Da hell is that?”

“It’s a route that you can only take by Four-Wheel Drive.  Only the most courageous take it.  We have to time it because it’s completely impassable in January and February.  The first leg is from Soanierana-Ivongo to Mananara and the second is from Mananara to Maroantsetra.  We’ll see sheer cliffs, deep sand, mud (lots of it), jungle, animals, beaches, palm trees.  We’ll cross rivers with man-made ferries, some using old oil drums—”

“Sounds dangerous and stupid.”

“Yeah. So, you in?”

“Hells yes, I’m in!  As long as after, we take it easy.”

Some Dare, Some Dare Not – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday morning, my peeps!  Yessiree, today’s hump day is brought to you by Friday Fictioneers!  I know, I know, the name stuck despite many of us writing on Wednesdays.  Think The Piano Guys – there is no mention of the cellist, who, in my opinion, is the bigger piece of the group.  Anyway, I digress!  This week, Rochelle chose this most interesting picture by our Sandra Crook, she, whose stories are always top shelf. If you feel inclined to play along, just click on the blue frog below and add your 100-word story.  Not sure how it works?  Click on Rochelle’s name for the how-to’s!

  Click me!

Some Dare, Some Dare Not

“Why do you like to walk on that beam, Tina? It’s slimy and gross.”

“It’s not that slimy, Josie. Plus when you go all the way to the end, you feel like you’re at the edge of the world, wild and free.”

“But it’s not safe, Tina.  It scares me to watch you go way out there.”

“Don’t worry so much.  You should try it.”

“God, no…”

Fifteen years later, Josie sat on that very beam, remembering, missing their childhood, missing her sister, gone to the edge of the world on adventures while she had remained home, safe and secure.

A Rapt Audience – Friday Fictioneers

Good Wednesday morning, my peeps!  Yessiree, it is still muggy and stankin’ hot, here in the Montreal area.  The rains come in tiny spurts and offer zero relief.  In fact, I think they just bring the humidity level up several notches.  I’m sure all a y’all are tired o’ talkin’ about the weather so how about we move onto some story-tellin’ instead?  Our wonderful leader, Rochelle has once again provided us with a picture (thanks Ted Strutz!) worth 100-words.  Words, we writers and wannabe-writers, hope will make you laugh, cry, suck in your breath, anger you, scare you… and even get you to want to participate!  Speaking of which, should you be feelin’ it, why don’t you click on that there blue froggy below and add your 100-words worth?

©Ted Strutz

Get your code here, folks!

A Rapt Audience

Arms locked, Colin, Monique and Denis crossed the street.  The siblings had spent their adult lives roaming the globe on  many a worldly adventure together, eschewing the conventions of marriage and family.  At 84, 89 and 86, respectively, they were finally ready to put away their passports and relax for their remaining years in a small coastal town.

Their Friday-night suppers at the diner on the pier was the town’s favourite activity.  Tables were set up around the retired adventurers’ so all could listen to their wild exploits, told with such passion and verve.

One of the rapt ensured their stories would live on.

Where Does My River Go, Part Deux

It was a beautiful day.  The girl was sitting at her computer, deciding on how to go about her day when she got a visitor… No words were necessary!


“Yes, my Zekie-Poo, we will go for our walk!” she told him and proceeded to get dressed.  Hmmm… it was a “balmy” -3°C (which warmed up considerably as they went along on their walk).  Knowing full well she would probably end up on her knees at one point or another to take a picture, or walk in knee-deep snow, the girl decided to put her snowpants on, no matter how warm it was. And her tuque (why, oh why did she only have a wool one?) And her scarf – no scratch that, her scarf was too long and hot, she would use her son’s that she had made for him as it was shorter (another mistake – just as warm).  Mitts were always required as her hands can’t handle the cold.

Off they went with no particular destination in mind and the girl was almost tempted to turn around and peel off some layers.  Ugh!  Why oh why did she do this to herself!  Take the hat off, no too cold; put the hat on, too hot; take the scarf off – where to put the damned thing?  Tie it on the leash. No, that was totally annoying to both Zeke and the girl.  Oh!  Around the outside of the coat? No, too short, kept sliding.  Bloody hell!  Ah!  In the Hood of the coat.  Out of the way and off the body!  Take the mitts off, starting to feel cold; put the mitts back on.  And so it went.  All the way to “Nina’s Park”!

“Oh?, What the heck is this?” questioned the girl… “Snowmen! No, Snowmice! Hmmm… Snowrabbits?”

Not sure...

Not sure…

Whatever they were, they stood in the middle of the park like Sentinels watching over the joint!

They chose to continue on to their walk to De Brouages Park with no intention other than to extend this time in this beautiful weather.  Once they arrived, they noted snowmen “bodies” all over the place.  Oh my! Had there been a bombing?  (She did have quite the imagination…)

Snowmen bodies

Snowmen bodies

The girl sat and contemplated, looking around her and just enjoying the view, half wishing she had another with her to chat with.  Let’s face it, Zeke is not that talkative!

A place to rest

A place to rest

Looking at the little bridge crossing “her” river, she noted some trees that seemed to tell her:  “Go this way, have you figured out where your river goes yet?”

“Oh yes!” she cried.  “Let’s go, Zeke!”  And off they went!

Along the way, they noted the pretty details in the vinegar plant and oh! a slide for leprechauns!

As they got closer to the river, the girl decided that maybe it would be best NOT to walk along it.  They had gone as far as they could last time…

My river

My river

They walked alongside the pathway until they got to the spot where the girl had broken through the ice.  Looking around, she tried to find the exit of the viaduct by peeping over the fence.  Ah hah!



Found it!

They had to cross a street and look around to see where the river continued and finally found it!

They walked along it, keeping a close eye on where it meandered.  Somewhere it had to pass UNDER the highway.  There!  Right next to the little strip mall!

Alrighty then…. the girl’s hubby was almost right.  He thought it crossed over under a little further than it really did….  She couldn’t wait to tell him!

“So, Zeke. What think you? Should we wait for another trip to see just where this river finally joins the St.Lawrence?”



She decided that the adventure would have to continue at another time.  They still had quite a ways to go before they returned home…

They walked along the bicycle path that runs parallel to the train tracks.  So nice that the City plows it for the walkers all through winter – where they can!

The girl had lived her whole life in this town – most of it in a house close enough to the tracks that every three to six months, the glasses had to be pushed back in the china cabinet as the house would shake so much they would start banging together!  What a memory that was….  That, and the fact that the train whistle would blow at all hours of the day and night.  Much to the townspeople’s chagrin.  After many years of complaints, a fence was finally installed all along the tracks.  Apparently this is the only thing that can be done to ensure they need not warn folks that trains are passing.

Gateways are installed along every crosswalk and are unlocked most of the day.



They continued on their way, enjoying the sounds of the birds, some of which were sunning themselves on the wires and they even ran into two little girls.  “Hmmm…” she thought. “Wonder if they are playing hooky!!”  She then remembered that it was a pedagogical day for the French schools…

A most enjoyable walk, indeed!

They were looking forward to their next adventure!

In case you missed the first part of this story, click here

The end of the story is here