Tag Archives: story

No Repetition Story (WIP)

No Repetition Story (WIP)

(200 words without repetition.

Any comments gratefully received) – G:) )

“What are you doing?” shouted Lady Melanie Montmorency. “Get out of my brand new jacuzzi immediately!”

Brendan o’Briain leapt about three feet skywards into clear air at his landlady’s voice, unwillingly exposing a pale nakedness for her Ladyship’s unwanted delight.

“Sorry!” was heard uttered upon the Irish lumberjack’s sudden departure.

“Funny fellow; but, so well endowed.” sincere sounding approval soaked smoothly within those virtuously aristocratic words.

Disaster avoided, said water-filled garden feature, receiving some needed cleansing attention, soon returned to its former glory.

Later, ‘Dive-In Thursday’ commenced; all behaved impeccably; ubiquitous aperitifs were copiously imbibed, perky petit-fours neatly nibbled, clandestine conversation eloquently colluded.

Observing proceedings, Tangworthy Times’ lead reporter, Mrs. Fenella Finglewort, vividly reported: ‘absolute debauchery, total mayhem, flagrant philandering – so jealous!’ Pictures left nothing unimagined.

Friday’s headlines read: ‘Upper Class Street Theatre Brings Down Lasting Shame!’ which nobody understood – heavy editorial restraints meant little, as subsequent salaciousness could be experienced per highly detailed pictures printed within.

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“The Cakes!”

“The Cakes!”

The Cakes were flying out of the door.

“Stop!” came the cry from the rear of the café.

The last few Victoria Sponge slices beat their wings all the more and reached the freedom of the open air.

“Come back here at once!” shouted Mrs. Flour.

The cakes, not having ears, turned a blind eye to the command.

Free of the café, where they had always waited for the slice of the cake knife with dread, the cakes swooped and glided along the air currents above the town.

“Crumbs!” said the first Herring gull that spotted them – and very soon they were.

A Tale of Three…

A Tale of Three…

Aubrey the Strawberry, Salty the Peanut, and Banango the Weird – a mixed up one if there ever was – walked into Kind Café, one day.

It had been a very hot day, and the three of them were in search of an Ice-cream each to cool themselves down.

Aubrey, Salty, and Banango surveyed the ice-cream menu.

Aubrey looked on with dismay as she saw the options, Salty turned up his little peanut nose at the PB &J cone;

Banango ordered a Banana and Mango Chip Cornet (with sprinkles).

Aubrey and Salty looked at Banango with wonder – he was being really weird lately.

Banango paid and took his selection ‘to go’ and they all left the Kind Café.

Within two minutes a hungry Herring Gull had swooped down and the Banana, Mango Chips, Sprinkles and Banango the Weird had all been swiped by the hungry gull.

Aubrey and Salty were sad, but this was slightly relieved by the fact that Banango the Weird had gone as he had always said he had wanted to.

Jack the Fruit

Jack the Fruit

Jack was a fruit.

Not a specific fruit,

like an Orange, Apple, or Pear;

or a rare fruit,

such as a Physalis, Durian

or the Mighty Horned Cucumber;

he wasn’t even a Tomato – which is a fruit.

Jack was ‘all’ fruits,

though not all at once,

for that would certainly be a fruit cocktail to confuse.

One Monday, last month Jack had been a Lemon. The next day he was a Gooseberry; and this caused some confusion, I can tell you (largely because it is I who am writing this story).

Jack the Lemon had a lovely chat with Sally Strawberry on the Monday; when he met Sally on Tuesday, she didn’t recognise him – for he was now Jack the Gooseberry. This caused problems for Jack and a little embarrassment all around.

Sometimes, when Jack was particularly nervous, he would change fruits ‘during’ the day – and occasionally more than once. Mid-conversation with Bella Banana had been the worst, Jack had transformed into a Banana, and Bella had fallen for the unexpected stranger in her life, although she secretly preferred Jack the Plum, but he had seemingly left the building – a Shoe Shop – and was never heard of again.

Finally, Jack was found close to tears, having lost the affections of Bella Banana, Cindy Cherry, and Polly Peach all within a week – none of them were up for short-term relationships and a second date was never to be forthcoming.

Archie Apple saw a Lime in a corner that seemed to be crying and almost sobbing in despair.

“What is wrong, Friend Lime?” asked Archie.

Between sobs and tears, Jack the Lime answered, “I keep on changing from fruit to fruit, and I can’t keep a steady relationship. One day I’m a Greengage Plum, the next day I’m a Mango!”

The tears fell down Jack’s face and started pooling around him, creating himself as his own island.

“Listen… I didn’t catch your name?” said Archie.

“Jack.” said the woeful Lime.

“Listen, Jack; all I can say is be yourself, and perhaps wear this T-Shirt that I fortuitously found just over there.” he pointed. “It looks about your size.”

Archie handed the T-Shirt to Jack.

“It’s actually a magical T-Shirt that stops the wearer from transmogrifying into a different species, be it animal, mineral or vegetable. Or fruit.” Archie smiled benignly. “Actually, Jack, I am your fairy godmother – I knitted you that T-Shirt myself.”

Jack popped the T-Shirt on and went to look at himself in a nearby mirror.

“Do I have to wear this always?” queried Jack.

“If you wear it three days running, it will be upon you forever, and you will stay as that fruit until the end of fruit days. So, this means that you can choose which fruit you’d like to be.” Archie disappeared in a puff of smoke – as fairy godmothers tend to do.

“Archie had stopped crying. He knew which fruit he would like to be. And all he had to do was put his magical T-Shirt on the next time that he became that fruit.

It couldn’t be that long before he was a lemon again, could it.

And Sally Strawberry might still be waiting for him.

Saladin and his mother

Saladin and his mother

He sat staring at his plate of boiled spinach, sliced and diced legumes, and three pale shades of cabbage, when Mother came into the room,

“If you don’t eat up your greens, you’ll never grow up to be Saladin, Sultana of Egypt!”

ad-Din sighed; Mother always made him eat up his greens; he didn’t want to, though, in his heart, he knew that he would thank her one day.

“Thanks, Chuck!”

“Thanks, Chuck!”

We thank you for the air we breathe;

we thank you for the water that we drink;

all the food that we receive;

and for having the mind with which to think.

We thank you for the story

of a man disdaining glory,

who died for our sins;

that’s where a story begins.

Boxing Day 2018 #21 (20:00)

Boxing Day 2018 #21 (20:00)

Eight o’clock

After Eights?

Nibbles?

Another drink?

Or crash out in front of the cardboard box

(the one that Boxing Day

is named after)

Anyway, start with the After Eights

and we’ll take it from there.