Very Slight Stories | Like short stories, only shorter.

'Darcy and O'Mara' is a novel by Arthur Cronin.
Click here to buy the paperback or download the ebook for free.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009


Judith's Husbands

   Judith woke up one morning and she noticed a strange man in her bedroom. She pointed at him, but she couldn't think of anything to say. They went outside to get married. She hailed a priest who was passing by on a moped. He married them without even turning off the engine, and ever since then Judith has associated the smell of moped fumes with her wedding day.
   They went upstairs so she could put on the wedding dress she'd used at her last wedding on the previous week. The strange man put on her former husband's suit.
   Later that day her former husband returned from the dry cleaners with a suit, the one he'd been buried in. He gave this suit to the strange man, who sighed and hailed a priest who'd bury him. They dug a hole in the garden, and the strange man went to sleep in it. When he woke up in the morning he took the suit to the dry cleaners and he married the woman there.
   This marriage went on for months and there was no end in sight. When he went downstairs on Christmas morning, all the little Rambos were running around his feet. Her former husband used to farm Rambos. A Rambo is for life, not just for Christmas. And your life won't last long if you get on the wrong side of the Rambos.
   The strange man felt a need to get out of this marriage. He went to the house next door and he looked in the window. He saw that the armchair by the fire was empty. He went around to the back of the house, and he found that the back door was open. He went inside, and he took his place on the armchair. His new wife poured him a glass of mulled wine. When her former husband came downstairs he saw that his place had been taken. His name was Thompson. The strange man suggested going next door to the place he'd just vacated. Thompson said he didn't like the idea of living with the Rambos. The strange man thought this was wise, and he suggested going to Judith's house because her husband was often away.
   When Thompson went to Judith's house her husband had gone to the shop. After ten minutes he hadn't returned, so they assumed he was dead. They couldn't have a funeral because there was no body, so they organised a memorial service in the church instead. As soon as this was finished, Judith married Thompson. She was glad when she found out his name because she'd never been married to a Thompson before.
   They had left a note back in Judith's house. It was for her former husband, in case he came back from the shop. When Judith and Thompson returned to the house they found a note from her former husband. It said he had seen the note about his memorial service and he had decided to start a new life in Jamaica.
   Judith sat in the living room with her new husband that evening. They had run out of things to talk about. After twenty minutes of listening to the ticking of the clock, she thought of something. She said, "Do you want to watch me jumping up and down?"
   He said he'd love to watch her jumping up and down. So she jumped up and down, and he found it entertaining, but she had to stop when she got tired. After another long period of silence he smiled and said, "Of course! I nearly forgot. I have two tickets for the bus."
   He took the tickets out of his pocket. "I love the bus," Judith said.
   They got dressed to go out and they went to the bus stop. The bus arrived ten minutes later. They got on, and it turned out to be a very entertaining show that night. One of the drunks on the bus gave a very good performance, and there were plenty of great performances on the streets as well. They both had an interest in the bus and Judith was sure that this marriage would last, at least until the weekend.

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




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.

  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.

Very Slight Stories: like short stories, only shorter

More blogs about Storytelling.
Technorati Blog Finder

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?