|Very Slight Stories | Like short stories, only shorter.||
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Mostly Good Hamsters
Mrs. Smith came to my front door today and said hello and I said hello to her, and then she said goodbye, and that's the way conversations go sometimes. It's different with ants.
Another thing that's different is strawberries. Clare likes strawberries. She once said, "I suppose the word 'skiffle' put me off," in connection with strawberries, but even she couldn't say what the connection was.
She went to see her Uncle Harry with her friend, Grace. Harry had ten hamsters. He'd pick up a hamster and say, "You're very, very good." Then he'd put it down, pick up another one and say the same thing.
After doing this seven times, Clare said to him, "Do you always hold them up just to tell them they're good?"
"No, sometimes I tell them they're bold." He picked one up and said, "You're very, very bold."
"My phone is making funny noises," Clare said.
"Is this like the strawberries again?" Grace said to her.
"No, conversations just go like that sometimes. Even with ants."
They said goodbye to Harry, and as they were walking away from the house, Clare remembered why she mentioned her phone. "That hamster buried my phone!"
They went back and told Harry about it. He picked up a hamster and said, "You're very, very bold."
Clare wasn't sure if it was the right hamster, but she didn't think it mattered. "There are lots of things I don't know about," she said, "not just times and dates."
That one probably was like the strawberries.
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.