Thursday, 30 June 2011

Storytelling... by Text Message!

Today's post is something a bit different: a story composed by text message conversation between me and my friend, Kay. What started as spontaneous banter soon took on a life of its own. I've chosen to present it as composed - in bitesize chunks with my parts justified to the right and my co-writer's justified to the left... enjoy!

Their eyes met across a crowded room She had the look of a well satisfied woman, he was gay. It was never going to work...

She say him looking and wondered: was her hair a mess?

He looked at her and thought "Ooh, lovely hair but her bum looks big in that."

She feels his stare and blushes, wondering if it is the tweed skirt having this effect...

He looked at her, bemused; was she embarrassed? Or having a hot flush? She didn't look old enough but she was wearing tweed.

She began to wonder if he realised that the librarian look was just a cover.

Something wasn't right. He began to wonder if the librarian look was just a cover. If only he could put his finger on it!

She starts to wonder if her Superhero pants are showing. Maybe her skirt was tucked into her knickers.

For a moment he thought that he might have seen her at SHeroCon, the Superhero get-together. No, that wasn't it. She did have a certain poise and aura, though. Yes, he thought, that's who it is...

Yes, it's Cider Girl!

...his Nemesis. For as long has he had been AlcopopMan, Cider Girl had been his biggest enemy. Even now as a civilian, he felt himself fill with a mixture of fear and anger in her presence.

Cider Girl's senses, whilst slightly deadened, were not completely shot. She recognised a smell, something told her to move fast.

He watched as she tensed and sprang backwards towards the door. His own long redundant sixth sense kicked in and he too could smell what she smelt, feel what she felt. Almost instinctively he performed a back-flip just as a hole appeared in the floor and from it rose the figure off...

Could it really be? Lord Harket of Norway? Cider Girl had only dreamt about seeing him in the flesh.

The stench of Rollmops filled the air... Cider Girl and the former AlcopopMan took a deep breath and said, almost in unison: 

"What does 'Take On Me' actually mean?"

The End


Stephen Chapman said...


But weird!

oneexwidow said...

I prefer "surreal"...