|Very Slight Stories | Like short stories, only shorter.||
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
George showed a great deal of caution in everything he did. He feared that sudden movements would cause people to back away from him. If a sudden jerk of his head caused one person to leave a room, the other people in the room would surely follow. Sometimes on a Sunday afternoon he'd be sitting on his armchair, quietly minding his own business on his own, when he'd suddenly spring to his feet and do a tap dance. He put this down to being possessed by a spirit. He didn't know if it was the same spirit inside him all the time or if it was many different spirits, either residing in him all the time or just passing through and making him dance on the way. He decided to write a book because he believed there was a good chance that the spirit or spirits would take control of the writing process at some stage.
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.