Tag Archives: life

Sam rests his case

“What a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.”

Sam had often thought about the words his grandmother used to whisper to him, time and time again – often whilst he’d lay with his head upon her lap as she ran her frail fingers through his scraggly mop of blonde hair.

Many moons had passed since those prepubescent days. Business meetings had replaced after-school kick-abouts, glasses of wine usurped juice cartons and the train window had become his grandma’s lap. He wore his hair differently now; all heavily gelled and styled. She wouldn’t have approved.

The train tracks faltered and Sam’s head was displaced from the cold glass with a startling bump. He looked down at the pile of papers in his lap and began to build his next defence.


A piece inspired by the Monday Finish The Story Challenge. Click here to find out more!

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“Gah!”

“What is it?”
“What do you mean, ‘what is it?’ Don’t you like it?”
“It’s… well, I mean it’s, erm… it’s unusual.”
“You don’t like it.”
“No, no. No I mean, I didn’t say that. It’s just… different is all.”
“You hate it. I should have known.”
“I don’t hate it. But I don’t not not-like it.”
“This is just like Christmas ‘08 all over again.”
“What is?”
“This is.”
“Is it?”
“It is. God, this is so you.”
“Wait, what? It’s supposed to be me?”
“What is?”
“This!”
“Typical! Why do you always have to make everything about you?”

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Friday Fictioneers is hosted by the freshly published Rochelle. Join in the 100 word flash fiction fun or simply go read the other entries here.

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Jessica and the teeth

The sound of the air being sucked in through his less-than-white front teeth sent shivers down Jessica’s spine. It wasn’t that she was afraid of the inevitable cost soon to be revealed to her. Nor was it the fear of the “complicated and confusing world of manly motors, complete with greasy nuts, oily patches and red-hot pistons”.

No, Jessica recognised the feeling almost at once. They were entirely pleasant, and always welcomed.

Jessica smiled at the five-figure sum. She always felt a tingle of anticipation tickle her skin, moments before putting an ill-educated man firmly in his place.


Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers. Get yourself there and join in with the weekly 100 word challenge!

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The Carpet Cleaner

As the millionaire Chairman knelt on the ground
the workers around him could do nothing but frown.
For the silver haired leader, an octogenarian,
was restoring the carpet to a sparkling new state again.

With more cash in the bank than the east side of Surrey
he scrubbed at the carpet with blood, sweat and hurry.
When asked why he didn’t just replace the duff tile,
he looked up and responded with a wink and a smile,

“It’s the little things, dear boy, that lead to the big.
If I replaced every carpet, each time Sue dropped a fig,
I’d never have got to where I’ve got to today
(with Rita in Gloucester, and Joan in Herne Bay.)”

“Take care of the pennies and the pounds, they will follow.
A carpet cleaned here, means Sushi tomorrow.
Or lobster with Megan, in Clacton-on-Sea,
You’ll be tickling the rich, boy, take it from me.”

 

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Time Management

– You really should start work, it’s twelve minutes past nine.

“I’m very well aware of the time, thank you very much. It’s just that, well, I was going to finish my coffee before I start really working.”

– You won’t though, will you? The dregs of your coffee are already stone-cold. You’ve had it since eight thirty. When you finish it, or realise you don’t want to finish it because it’s too cold and ‘bitty’, you’ll just end up getting out of your seat and making tea.

“Why do you keep writing the time like that?”

– Hush. Are you going to start work now or not? It’s thirteen past nine, now.

“You’re weird.”

– I’m weird? You should check yourself before you wreck…

“Don’t say that. You sound like a complete penis when you say that. Besides, I’m just about to start work. Right………. nnnn…….”

– For crying out loud. At least open Word, or Excel, or perhaps the website you’re supposed to be working on. At least look busy.”

“I am busy. I’m planning.”

– Planning what? It certainly isn’t your day.

“Stuff. I’m planning stuff.”

– You’re planning on going to the toilet aren’t you? You’re planning on wasting another five minutes by walking downstairs and draining the so-called lizard. Pfftt. More like pinching the worm.

“I wasn’t.”

– But?

“But I am now.”

– I despair.

“I hate you.”

– I know.

 


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