|Very Slight Stories | Like short stories, only shorter.||
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
Finding a Violin
Sam always outlines possible courses of action for whatever situation he finds himself in, and there's always one course where he's a mouse. In the present situation, he needs to find a violin in every course of action he can see ahead of him.
He stands in a field with Nigel, as they try to think of what to do. Nigel holds a thermometer in the air, looking up at blue sky. "Something has just bitten off my hand," he says. "No, there it is."
"Where's your foot?"
"Something must have bitten it off."
On the radio, the DJ announces a competition where you can win a violin if you know what the capital of France is. Nigel phones the radio station, and when he's asked the question he says, "I don't know; something just bit off my elbow."
Sam goes to the car to look there again. Nigel looks up at the sunlight through the leaves in a tree. A hawk comes along and sees him watching the leaves, so the hawk watches the leaves too. The hawk doesn't really know what it's supposed to be looking at.
When Sam comes back he asks Nigel where his knee is. "The hawk must have bitten it off.
"I've been thinking about this," Sam says. "What if I just took Tracey's violin."
"She'd surely notice."
"Yeah, but what if I was a mouse."
"The hawk would eat you."
"Is there any way of blindfolding the hawk?"
Nigel stands in front of the hawk, telling it about all the things he's had bitten off, while Sam creeps up behind it with a blindfold. Just as he's about to pounce, a violin falls from the tree. "Alright, forget about the hawk," Sam says.
The Tree and the Horse
A Walk in the Rain
The East Cork Patents Office
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.
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?"
She was sick of people asking her that too.
More blogs about Storytelling.