Another wet summer camping in Brittany. Every year we do this, every bloody year! I hoped, once the kids left home, we’d end this annual nightmare, but he won’t have it. Says he looks forward to meeting up with Maureen and Jim from Barnsley and Betty and Kenneth from Sidcup.
God, the thought of another year, sitting in a leaky tent, listening to Maureen from Barnsley go on about her delphiniums and Kenneth from Sidcup bringing us up to date with his gallstones, is more than I can bear.
Maybe this year I really will throw myself overboard, mid-channel.
An unusual writing challenge at Chris Fielden’s site. To write a 100 word story with as many adverbs in it as you can manage. Every 100 stories he gets he is publishing as an anthology and any money raised is going to First Story.
Terribly Tasty Torso
Claire wishfully looked at Dave’s beautifully sculpted body, laid out lifelessly on her mum’s bed. Unabashedly, she gracefully ran her stylishly manicured fingers through the hairs on his manly chest. “Such a waste,” she muttered mournfully.
“Can’t be helped,” said her mother briskly, in a ruthlessly matter of fact voice. “Regretfully our needs heavily outweigh his. Are you ready?”
Claire nodded remorsefully. Staring at Dave’s brutally battered body, she hungrily parted her lips exposing two extremely sharp fangs. Her mother briskly stepped alongside her. Quickly and effortlessly the women savagely tore at the terribly tasty torso in front of them.
I even backfilled the hole with some expansive cement, the sort that doesn’t shrink during hardening but actually expands a little over time. I know that may sound extreme but these were desperate times.
Each time he turns up he looks a little more decomposed but you can still clearly see the hole in his head where I shot him.
I know what game he’s playing. Reckons the guilt will eat away at me and I’ll confess.
That’s not going to happen.
I’ll just keep digging deeper holes and get in more cement.
Jez Burrows writes ‘Dictionary Stories’. These are very short stories composed entirely of example sentences, drawn from a variety of dictionaries, with nothing added except the odd conjunction or preposition.
I thought I’d have a go. Seemed it could be fun – and it was.
The underlined words are the words I looked up in the dictionary to find my ‘example sentences’. (I used the online Oxford English Dictionary)
Before long the story spread throughout the city of the crazy man who had purchased a dream. His fellow officers regarded him with awe as some sort of genius. He now wants to be the father of the nation, a unifying figure. There’s something very scary about him but I could not turn him away, for he was family. Sometimes being your brother‘s keeper is no walk in the park.
“Good work Jones. We know this Goldilocks character is responsible for the Dumpty murder and the massacre of the Bear family and I’d bet my pension she knows what happened to the Gingerbread Man. All we need now is to find out who her boss is. Anybody with her?”
“Yes sir. The owner of the black car parked out front went up to her room five minutes ago. The car’s registered to a Miss Muffet.“
“Miss Muffet! It can’t be. What the hell is the head of MI6 doing here?”
“Don’t think so George. I’ve had a quick peek up above and there was quite a frost last night. Looks like winter is on its way. You know how the cold gets into these decaying bones of mine. So I thought we’d stay in, make the most of this warm soil left over from those hot summer days we’ve had this year. Might go out tonight.”
“That would be nice love. We could sit on the bench the kids had dedicated to us and watch the stars. Just like we did when we were alive.”
It was while we were clearing out Grandma’s house that I came across her old shoes. Mum had always told me that, in her younger days, Gran had been quite a tearaway. The locals had called her the ‘Wicked Witch of the West’.
To me she was just a sweet old lady, who smelled a little of old mothballs and lavender soap. I smiled, as I remembered sitting on her lap, listening to her tales of strange lands and winged monkeys.
My thoughts were interrupted when mum shouted, “Dorothy, dear, have you finished in there? It’s time we were going.”