“All the chicks are, like, “Whoa! Is that really,….?!””
“And I bet you’re all “Yeah, baby – It’s me!””
Their chirping laughs rang loud around the curved walls.
“I’m telling you; if you have the right bling they’ll let you do anything.”
Legs bent and muscles stretched. The cool morning air shook with squawking jeers.
“Just gotta show them what you got. And remember the breath mints.”
A young girl pressed her face to the bars. “Hey Mommy, look at the pwetty birdies!”
“They’re Peacocks, dear,” her Mother replied, watching on.
She whispered beneath her breath.
“Emphasis on Cock. Small C.”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Anthony Delanoix via Unsplash.
Well, would you look at that: it’s election day in the US of A! I’m a Brit so I couldn’t possibly comment. It’s important to get out and vote, though: you can never complain about the result if you didn’t take your stand and be counted.
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Shards of crystal shook with each thundering crack of feet on the marble floor below: a hundred shoes raining to the ground as hands met, palm on palm. The chandelier swayed. Wax dripped.
At each turn of the music a sighing hiss filled the air. Silk skirts brushed the thighs of men, teasing them as their wives looked on.
Jenny watched the dance from the corridor, the golds and blues of the scene reflected in the young maid’s gaze. Behind her, others carried chamberpots from the room.
“Remember, girl,” called the housekeeper. “Their piss smells just as sweet as ours.”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Peter Oswald via Unsplash.
Thanks to aspiring novelist and blogger extraordinaire Roderick Wills for suggesting today’s story title! You can follow him @ or on his website at https://roderickwills.com/.
Suggest your own title and I’ll write the first image that springs to mind – just pop a single word in the comments below or Tweet it to me @.
“Really?! Do you think so?”
Jemima’s mother was clapping her hands wildly and bouncing on her toes.
On the driveway before them sat a car. The metal and glass shone proud in the early morning sun. The fresh-from-the-factory tires lay scuff free on the brick floor.
“A BMW, Mum,…. wow,…”
“It’s all yours!” Jemima’s mother ran forward and took the teenager’s hand, guiding her towards car. The goth girl blinked.
“Soooooooo?” God, why was her mother smiling?
“So,….” Jemima saw her black skirt reflected in the paint.
“I didn’t know they made BMWs in Bubble Gum Pink,…”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Picture by Mason Jones via Unsplash.
Today’s One Word Title was suggested by Angelica Kidd, writer of the “Life of an Aspiring Writer” blog. On reading the word, a hot pink colour sped into my mind. That probably says a lot about me but I’ll leave that to my therapist 😉
I’m on the search for new words! If you’re reading this and you want to suggest one, please do! Just pop it in the comments or Tweet it to @ using the hashtag #onewordonestory.
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See you tomorrow for “Suave”
“Did you SEE that catch?!”
Mr. Kirby was jumping in the grandstands, his fists punching into the air. The crowd around him were on their feet: the roar was deafening. Mrs. Kirby covered her ears.
“That’s my boy! Left the other guy for dust! Always a safe pair of hands. Always said so, haven’t I?!”
Mrs. Kirby was peering onto the pitch, far below. Her husband didn’t seem to notice.
“Man, nobody ever catches like that! Did you see the way he launched himself forward,…?”
Mr. Kirby was still whooping in glee.
“That’s not our son.”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Image by Abigail Keenan via Unsplash.
Today’s word comes from yet another Doctor Who star – this time the wonderful Barnaby Edwards. Barnaby is a director and actor for Big Finish and also a frequent Dalek operator in the TV series! You can find him over on Twitter @. Thanks for the word, Barnaby 🙂
If you have a word that you’d like me to write a story on, just pop it into the comments section below!
See you tomorrow for “Insights”.
Joel closed his eyes and took a breath, his hands rising and reaching out into the sun-dappled air. His chin rose as he felt the words spring from his chest and force themselves from his lips.
Worlds swirled in his imagination. Wild realities and lost loves poured from his soul, forming into crude reality with each flick of his tongue. His heart ached at each new phrase, tears fell as he knitted verse to verse.
A roll of distant thunder greeted the finale. It was perfect.
The Eight year old boy watching him coughed.
“Mister,…. why didn’t it Rhyme?”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo image by Curtis Mac Newton via Unsplash.
Suggest your own one word story title – it’s easy! Pop your word in the comments or tweet it to @ using the hashtag #onewordonestory and I’ll write a story just for you!
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All around the room flames roared and span through the air: blue and red funnels shooting from the base of each hob, the blazing inferno bringing sweat to the skin of the paramedics kneeling at the floor.
The apprentice looked down at the prone form of Chef Tyler, his harsh, furious gaze now dull and powerless. Spittle still leaked from the corner of his mouth.
“What did you say to him?” one of the Sous Chefs nudged the apprentice, his mouth agape.
The apprentice shrugged. Chef Tyler twitched.
“Just that his soup could do with a little salt,…”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo image by Michael Browning via Unsplash.
Suggest your one word story title and I’ll write one just for you! Pop your word in the comments or tweet it to @ using the hashtag #onewordonestory.
The wooden boards above creaked, curtains of dust sluicing down and stinging Benedict’s eyes. He blinked it away and looked at his watch. Two minutes.
He couldn’t hear the argument above but he knew what it was about. It was the same night after night. One girl, one guy, a star-crossed love affair turning sour due to the machinations of a Stage Magician.
It really wasn’t a good play.
Benedict looked at his watch again. 2 minutes.
He tapped it. Nothing happened. There was silence above.
Scrambling up the ladder, he peeked through the trapdoor.
The Stage Magician was late.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo image by Lloyd Dirks via Unsplash.
Today’s one-word story title was suggested by Fionn Grant of lionaroundwriting.com. He’s not wrong about the castles and the whisky: I’ve visited. You can follow him on twitter (if that’s your bag) @.
If you’d like me to write you a story based on a word of your choice, pop your word in the comments section below or tweet it to me @ using the hastag #onewordonestory.
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See you tomorrow for “Recovery”.
Every blink sent the room spinning out of focus, the sound of the teacher muting to a flat white noise. Johnny couldn’t help it: the sun was hot and the air was thick. If he could just rest his head a moment,…
The number “36” was staring at him. It was twitching it’s arm and tapping against the desk. Johnny didn’t know why it seemed so annoyed: there was still time to catch the funfair – the derivative told him so, though you should never believe a derivitive.
Someone was shaking him.
“Shall I fetch you a pillow, Johnny?”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo Image by Annie Spratt via Unsplash.
Today’s story was inspired by Leo Nolan – Actor, Musician and Puppeteer, and founding father of Midland Red Theatre Company.
If you too would like to donate a word, pop it in the comments section below or Tweet it to me @ using the hashtag #onewordonestory.
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Tomorrow’s word: Jobseeker.
“I see, Mr. Jones, that is,…”
“And what are you going to do about it!? Nothing, that’s what!! All you ever do is pass the buck!”
Alice’s eyes narrowed, her computer screen swimming in and out of focus. The rattling air conditioning ground her threadbare nerves. The man on the phone just wouldn’t stop.
“Mr. Jones, do you know what Cymothoa Exigua is?”
“Cymothoa Exigua, Mr. Jones. A parasite that eats away at the tongue of it’s victim and attaches to the dead stump.”
“I’m wondering if you poor wife would like me to buy you one as a pet.”
An odd one today. The ending went a few places – one of them tremendously dark. I decided against it. If in doubt, aim for comedy.
Today’s word was suggested by Steve Thomas of One Fine Day Artworks – purveyors of absolutely beautiful framed art. Take a look at their range at www.onefineday.co.uk
If you’d like to suggest a one word title, please do: pop your suggestion in the comments section below or tweet it to me @.
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Tomorrow’s story? Conundrum!
Carly hadn’t expected this,…
Flashbulbs were blazing from every side as she stepped from the limousine. The red carpet was shining bright. She waved, expecting the cry of excitement to drop away as the revellers and paparazzi realised their mistake.
She was a bit-part in the movie: a blink-and-you-miss-me nobody. She’d cried at her Mother on the day the première ticket landed on the doormat. And now,.. she was adored.
Carly flashed her brightest smile and twirled. The press strained to take each shot. They loved her!
The trail of toilet paper followed her unseen. She didn’t hear them laughing.
Today’s story was inspired by my ol’ uni mukka Rory McNamara – software tester, walking music almanac and producer of the finest Vince McMahon impersonation this side of the Hudson. You can follow him (if that’s your bag) on twitter @
Suggest your one word title and I’ll write a story about it: it’s easy. Just pop the word in the comments or tweet it to me @ with the word and the hashtag #onewordonestory.
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