Very Slight Stories | Like short stories, only shorter.





'Darcy and O'Mara' is a novel by Arthur Cronin.
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Tuesday, November 15, 2005

 

The Snow

   It stops snowing late in the afternoon, and the sun comes out again before it sets. The back yard is covered in snow. The fields for miles around are white. Jimmy stands at the kitchen window and stares out in silence. Elaine is at the shelves at the other side of the room.
   "I can twist my head all the way around," Jimmy says.
   Elaine looks through the time table for the jam jars. She looks up at the row of empty jars on the shelf, then back at the time table again. While she's looking down, one of the jam jars falls over and breaks. "Damn, I missed it." She looks at the time table again, then she turns around and says to Jimmy, "Did you say you could twist your head all the way around?"
   He shakes his head and says, "I've said this before: you're going insane."










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Henry Seaward-Shannon
A Walk in the Rain
The East Cork Patents Office
Mizzenwood
Words are my favourite noises


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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.







Very Slight Stories: like short stories, only shorter

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