“So I went over to Tasha’s place and we decided to go into town and meet up with Fuzz and Shev, but Tasha’s car wouldn’t start and we caught a bus, which took ages to come, so we were hella late. When we got to the bar only Fuzz was there. It turned out Shev hadn’t even turned up yet. So we had a few drinks and went to get something to eat, but Gazza surprisingly turned up, then we went into an alleyway…”
I sat there patiently listening to Janelle, wondering if her story actually had an ending…
Word count: 99
This was written with the prompt never ending provided by the Carrot Ranch April 18 Story Challenge.
“When I was told we were being attacked by pirates, this wasn’t what I was expecting.”
“Don’t I look like a pirate?”
“Well with the eye-patch and the parrot on your shoulder yes you do, it’s just that pirates today generally use small fast boats instead of sailing ships, and are armed with Kalashnikovs rather than cutlasses.”
“They don’t understand the romance of being a pirate.”
“Ah yes, the romance of robbing people at sea.”
“Shiver me timbers, are you being sarcastic? If you’re not careful you’ll walk the plank!”
“Mark my words you landlubber, you’ll end up in Davy Jones’ Locker yet. I mean it!”
“To conclude my lord, our forces have stopped the Verhern advance and we have even managed to force their troops back in places.” The General informed his Emperor.
‘”I should use the word conclude in one of my proclamations. I know all the best words. I am a genius after all.” The Emperor responded. “Why are we even fighting them?”
“They attacked us my lord.”
“But I have spoken to the King of the Verhern’s. He’s a very nice man you know. He assures me that his forces didn’t attack us and that he has no hostile intentions on our Empire.”
“But he’s our enemy my lord. He butchers his own people.” The General saw the Emperor was now doodling. He had lost him. Trying to give a briefing to a man with the attention span of a goldfish was difficult at best.
The General left the room wondering how had their once great empire fallen under the control of such a dunce. He looked forward to the surety of the battlefield. At least he knew who his enemies were there.
This started off as a response to a prompt, but it got too long. The satire is probably a couple of years out of date, but sadly still rather topical.
“I have something to tell you.” Nina said after she walked into the room. Andrea who was working on her computer swiveled her office chair around and faced her.
“What is it?” Andrea asked.
“I’m a vampire.” Nina admitted.
“Yeah I know.” Andrea replied nonchalantly. Nina looked at her surprised.
“You know? How?”
“Well for starters, you sleep all day and only seem to appear once it’s dark. That’s a bit of a dead giveaway, if you pardon the expression. Also your skin’s always been very pale and cold, and you never consume anything apart from the red “smoothies” you always seem to drink. I had it figured out pretty early on.” Andrea told her.
“You did? I thought you’d be terrified.” Nina answered.
“Nah. Just remember you’re my friend, and nothing can change that. I certainly don’t hate vampires or anything.”
“Thanks. You know I’ve always wanted to drink your blood.” Nina told her. Andrea screwed up her nose.
“I’m flattered, but sorry I’m not into that vampire stuff myself, but I’m always here if you want to talk.”
“Okay. Can we hug?” Nina asked.
“Sure!” Andrea replied. She stood up and the two of them hugged. Andrea suddenly felt Nina’s fangs on her neck. “Oy! No means no!”
“Sorry.” Nina replied backing off.
Near the end of last year I wrote a story called Coming Out. I decided to rework it. It explores the same idea, but in a different way.
I may have been exposed to Covid on public transport recently. I was wearing a mask and I have been vaccinated, but you never know. If I suddenly go quiet for a while, you know why.
Tom thought the best way to have a great brain
was to consume a great deal of grain
so he drank a large amount of scotch
till walking along some tracks he did botch
managing to get run over by a train
This was written for Chel Owen’s Terrible Poetry Contest #5. This weeks theme was to write a limerick about grain. I’m not actually officially entering this in the contest, mainly because if I manage to win, I then have to pick next weeks theme, which I’m far too lazy to do. Besides, I had a nightmare that I entered the contest and won it and couldn’t come up with a theme (okay as nightmares go this was a rather tame one, but still…).
The Haunted House
There is this old shambling tumbledown house, that
when people walk past, they would definitely not saunter
you see, this house has a rather fearsome reputation
for having a dark otherworldly persistent haunter
you won't be scared, instead your feelings will get hurt
for the ghost is rather an impressively good taunter