You’ll find a hook in the drawer, dear and there’s a small pot of chain linking on the top. This being your first day I want you to crochet me something small and simple, just to give me an idea of your skill level. Some of the apprentices they send me are awful. I had one last week who couldn’t tell a darning needle from a soup ladle. I had to send her back to the kitchens. But you look as if you’ve got more about you. Another two years and we’ll have you knitting full sets of chain mail.
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.