|Very Slight Stories | Like short stories, only shorter.||
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Adrian was sick of people staring at him just because he had a metal hook for a hand. Everywhere he went he stood out like a sore thumb. But he found that when he started dressing as a pirate he wasn't as noticeable. Even with an eye patch and a parrot on his shoulder it was much easier to blend in with a crowd.
He got a job as a bingo caller, but the parrot on his shoulder was quicker than him, and the bird always called out the numbers first. This annoyed him, but the bingo players loved it. Fiona used to play bingo every night just to see him. She met him one evening when she asked for his autograph. They spent a few minutes talking outside the bingo hall, and they realised they shared a love of sculpture. They went to a bar to continue their conversation over drinks.
They met again on the following evening. They went to a bar and then he walked her home. He wanted to kiss her and she wanted to kiss him, but the parrot was proving to be too much of a distraction, so she put her hamster on her shoulder to keep the parrot occupied. They leaned towards each other to kiss, but the parrot and the hamster got there first, and that proved to be an even greater distraction.
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.