Very Slight Stories | Like short stories, only shorter. |
|
||||
Tuesday, October 25, 2005A Night Out
Joe bought a box of chocolates for Iris. Just before he left to meet her, he met his brother, Owen, who said, "You're going out with the librarian again, are you?"
"Iris, yeah." "What are ye going to do? Play bridge for the evening?" "We're going to the theatre." "Going to the theatre with a librarian. Ye might as well be playing bridge." Owen put on his best suit and went to a bar, where he met a very tall woman in a black dress. Joe knocked on Iris's door and gave her the chocolates. "They're just the ones I like," she said. "Thanks." "You're welcome... I lost my tie in the woods." "Oh?" "Yeah." He nodded. Owen asked the woman he met in the bar if she'd like a glass of champagne. "Okay," she said. "Just the one." He woke up in the morning in a hotel where a women's basketball team were staying, in a room with all of that basketball team. An ostrich was there too. One of the women said to him, "Would you mind taking the ostrich home?" "Yes, of course." "I think his name is Gilbert." He couldn't remember how they got the ostrich, so he had no idea where Gilbert's home was. He went to a bar, hoping a drink would clear his head, but he had to leave when someone tapped him on the shoulder and said, "Excuse me, but your ostrich is trying to take that man's umbrella." He managed to get Gilbert outside. They walked through the park, where they met Joe and Iris, who were eating ice cream cones by the lake. Owen told them what happened and Joe said, "There's a lesson to be learnt in this. If you..." "Attack, Gilbert. Attack!" Owen said as he pointed at his brother, but the ostrich just looked back at him. "Come on, Gilbert." He walked away, and Gilbert followed. |
The Tree and the Horse Henry Seaward-Shannon A Walk in the Rain The East Cork Patents Office Mizzenwood Words are my favourite noises Archive Links:
|
May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 May 2010 June 2010 July 2010 August 2010 September 2010 October 2010 May 2013
very slight stories |
They Met a Bear They stopped in a small seaside town and they went for a walk. They met a bear. This is one version of the story. In another version, they met a sailor, and in this one they ended up being held at gunpoint on a speedboat and becoming unwilling participants in a diamond robbery while disguised as a cow, and sharing in the proceeds of that crime. So when they tell the story they just say, "We met a bear. He waved at us." The Story of the Fortune Teller and the Alarm Clock A fortune teller threw an alarm clock at me. This story is deliberately lacking in details to mock the predictions of the fortune teller. Although she was right when she said she'd throw an alarm clock at me. Counting One. Two. Three, the study. Four, a candle stick. Five. Six... Seven is missing, presumed dead. One has taken up the case, and two is helping him in his investigations. They both suspect six. Seven was last seen next to six in the garden. But seven isn't really dead. He's consumed half a bottle of whiskey and he's currently in the orchard, talking to a rabbit. "One of us is as boring as a gate post," he says, "and it's not..." He stops to count on his fingers. "No, actually it is me." Eight nine ten. Debbie and his dog Debbie was sick of people mistaking her for a man. "Is your dog my parole officer?" "No." She was sick of people asking her that too. More blogs about Storytelling. |