OOPS – Occasional Overheard Prompts for Stories (99 words)

Prompt Words: cheese, perks, dead end, bell, passion

Fred threw the cheese sandwich with curled edges onto the table.

“Bored, bored, bored” he said, “Bloody dead end job, no flaming perks, nothing to get me teeth into!”

“Yeah” Harry said, “me too.”

“What you saying? You ‘ad enough? You only just started.” another voice chimed in.

“I been here 4 weeks now” Fred continued, “promised the high life… a bit of travel, wine, women, song. Bit of passion, hanky panky, you know?”

“Yeah” Harry said, “me….”

“Shut yer gob before I knock five bells out of yer!”

Fred’s fist landed with a wallop: he wasn’t bored now.

Little old ladies

All I can say is never trust little old ladies.

There I was, sat in a room with this old dear who looked as though butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Tiny thing, wouldn’t reach my waist if I stood up. Thick white hair, blue eyes and makeup that wasn’t really put on that well. Looked proper innocent she did, peering over the top of those half glasses, what are they called? Oh yeah, half-moon glasses. Proper dowdy, all twin set and pearls, frumpy old lady. Know what I mean?

Well, she was asking me about my life and stuff. Didn’t matter what I said, she weren’t bothered. I swore, used words I’d not use to my own family and she ignored them. The questions seemed really random, nothing to do with what had happened, the reason that I was there.

As if we was just old friends chatting over times past. Think she must have been planning it all along. Family, friends, football. You name it, we nattered about it. Turns out she’s a Chelsea fan as well and knew all the teams going back to when I was born. The craic of talking footie with some old dear really took me by surprise. If only my brother had been as knowledgeable. He was too thick to even notice when the Blues had won the Championship.

We had tea and biscuits too. Sometimes we stopped so I could go outside to have a ciggie, didn’t matter really. Funny how time goes past when you really are enjoying yourself. It’s only afterwards I understood where she was leading me, the clever cow.

We was sitting there discussing next season’s prospects when she leaned forward and her voice dropped to a whisper.

“What was…..” she said, coughing over the last bit.

I couldn’t hear her so asked her to speak up.

“I was just idly wondering,” she said a little louder this time, “I’ve always wanted to know. What’s it like…?”

She sat there, waving her hands around vaguely, looking up at the ceiling and then at me.

“What’s it like… you know? What does it feel like to k….” she stopped mid-word.

So comfortable was I by then, I filled in the bloody blank didn’t I? Stupid, stupid mistake!

“Kill! Oh it’s amazing. The power… the…”

No vague look now. She gazed at me. No, she looked like a hawk that’s just grabbed its prey. Keen and satisfied. Gotcha!

The door opened and they took me away.

This morning I had my last meal. Anything I wanted they said. Big Mac, fries and a glass of champagne. It was great.

Shame she couldn’t have joined me: we could have talked about football again. It would have taken away the fear of what’s to come.

200 Word Tuesday – #BrokenWorld prompt

(Originally featured on http://200wordtuesdays.blogspot.com.au)

There are some things that never change and one of these is the sound of siblings squabbling.  The language may be different, but the gist of the conversation is always the same.

“You dropped that on purpose!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Did so not…”

“I’m telling…”

“Go on then… baby…”

How tiresome it is to sit here listening to my two beloved children having this argument. My problem is that I can’t interfere. It’s part of their growing up. I am fading, just slightly, blurring at the edges quietly (and I hope with dignity) so nobody really notices, but I know the truth. One of them will have to take over, and soon. And I know that neither of them is yet ready which makes me sad.

I look down at the floor. Water. Earth. Small wriggly objects, smaller than most eyes can see thrash around and stop suddenly, like ants realising their time is up. I would speak, but I’ve lost my voice now, lost the will. I have to leave them to it, let them tough it out. Eyes closing, I pass over.

“Dad… he broke my world again.

“I did not”

“Dad…. Dad??”

Even gods must die.

Game Over 1.2

On receiving some excellent advice, I revised this tale a little more.  I like this version better.  Hope you do too.

It’s hard when you’re on the run. People start to avoid you. Things become much more expensive when they realise you’re desperate. Money becomes scarce, favours scarcer. I ended up on the dark side of every planet I landed on, always one step ahead of the bounty hunter. Until I came here: too tired to eat, too tired to make a decision.

Best restaurant this side of Tixlit, best meal on the menu and all I could do was prod it from one side of my plate to the other. Not that it was still moving or anything. Elena’s Exotic Eatery was famed throughout the universe for the best food going at the best prices.

Yet here I was, unsure whether to take a mouthful or do whatever I needed to do next. I was tempting fate by sitting here I knew that, but I needed one good meal inside me. And a break.

“You gonna eat that?” A gravelly voice disturbed my thoughts. I looked up: my table companion eyed my food greedily.

“Yeah… maybe… no… you want some – all of it?” Hell, I thought, why not give it to him, he looked hungry enough. I pushed the plate towards him, appetite gone.

It shouldn’t have ended like this. I loved that woman more than anyone else I had come across. She was everything I needed: sassy, kind, moneyed. I could’ve moved up in the world, left my past behind, started anew. Then her dad put a tail on me and all my secrets spilled out. The bounty hunter had a fresh trail laid out for him.

A blast of cold air: the door had opened. This time I knew it was too late. I turned and faced my nemesis.