Short Stories
#19 -Tendrils
Colonel Anderson jumped as the beast slammed its snaked arm against the splintering glass. His hands shook as he lifted his wrist to his mouth, spitting breathless commands to the rest of his platoon. He had to stay quiet: the alien saw the world in sound. It knew he was there on the other side of the bulkhead. It knew. He hissed a second order but it was no good,… they were gone.
“Aaaand I think we’ll call that Lunch, Colonel,” boomed a female voice. “That’s the Tenth simulation you’ve screwed. But don’t feel too bad,… it’s Pasta Wednesday”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Photo by Matthew Hicks on Unsplash
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Tendrils was suggested by my old sparring partner John “Bobby” R Wilkinson (Esquire): Associate Artist at York Theatre Royal and all-round top bloke!
If you want to suggest a word, pop it in the comments or Tweet it to me @timaustin2k using the hastag #onewordonestory.
Browse a few more stories and I’ll see you tomorrow for “Particles”!
#18 – Ooze
I don’t know what made me do it. God knows. But it just seemed so,.. natural. Many things do after a few drinks. I didn’t think about how weird it was to see a silver straw poking from an old stone wall. It was the lipstick mark at the tip and the line of sticky syrup that caught my eye. Someone had seen this on the street and puckered up. And if they could,….
The men in white coats are staring at me. I think they want to use the knives again.
….. The syrup wasn’t even that sweet.
(c) Tim Austin 2016
Hey, don’t blame me! This is the kind of imagery I get to some words,… I need a psychiatrist,…
Thanks to Ian Abbot – creative adventurer and artist – for today’s word. You can find him at http://www.thegeometrician.com/ or on Twitter @TheGeometrician.
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Come back tomorrow for “Tendrils”.
Tim.
#17 – Expectation
Benjamin peered through the window, wide eyes looking out into a star-specked sky.
The boy smiled as he carefully scanned the horizon: tonight he would see Father Christmas.
Outside his door, two figures were kissing in the dark, their giggles muted by the touch of their lips. They made no sound as they printed a soot-covered shoe to the floor. They were careful to make no sound as they crept away, hand in hand.
Still Benjamin waited.
And, as his eyelids fluttered closed, he knew,… he just knew,… that tonight he would be the boy who saw Father Christmas.
(c) Tim Austin 2016
Today’s word was suggested by Jemma Cross – Acting Coach, Director and proud Mum-to-be. You can find her over on Twitter at @JemmaGross. If you want to donate a word, please pop it in the comments below or tweet it to @timaustin2k using the hashtag #onewordonestory.
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Come back tomorrow for “Ooze”!
#15 – Llanfair PG
[Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch]
The two men had been arguing for 20 minutes, their sweaty brows gleaming in the mid-summer sun.
“No, I’m telling you it’s pronounced “Clan Vire”!”
The older man was jabbing his finger at the new sign with flailing exasperation.
“Then why is it spelt “Fair?!” The younger man moaned, scratching his head.
With a sigh, the first man called to a passenger, nearby. “Excuse me, love. How do you pronounce the name of this railway station?”
“Bodorgan.”
The two men looked at each other. Then at the sign. Then at the tools they’d used to erect it, 20 minutes before.
“Bollocks.”
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Photo by Benn McGuinness on Unsplash
Today’s word was suggested by Liverpool songsmiths the Speakeasy Bootleg Band – purveyors of the “Finest Quality Bootleg Music Since Records Began…..”. You can find them on Twitter at @Speakeasybootle.
For those not in the know, this is a real train station in Wales. Yes, that really is the full name. And no, most people can’t pronounce it.
If you’ve a word you’d like me to turn into a story, tweet me at @timaustin2k using the hashtag #onewordonestory or pop a note in the comments, below. Oh, and share the blog with your friends using the button down there, too!
#14 – Archive
Shadows smothered the vaulted halls of the General Register Office, a handful of grimy lamps spewing dim light into the stuffy air.
Sam Desmond was at home here. In the darkness, he would wander the metal maze of filing cabinets, reading and enjoying each document before slipping them into their allotted draw. In those files whole lives were condensed to dry descriptions:
“Rhonda Jones: Died age 38, Teacher”.
“Charles West: Died age 73, Retired”.
Here they slept in ink and paper, neglected by all but him. Smiling, Sam opened the newest file.
“Sam Desmond: Died age 60, Filing Clerk”.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Photo by Maksym Kaharlytskyi on Unsplash
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The word for this story was suggested by Dr. Abby Astle: A wonderful person, a trusted friend and a very good GP.
If you’d like to suggest a word for me to write a story on, pop it as a comment below or tweet it to @timaustin2k using the hashtag #onewordonestory.
Don’t forget to follow the blog by hitting the button at the lower right. See you tomorrow for *Breathes* “Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch”
#13 – Burden
“No! ” James was angry now. Why did she keep saying that? Why did she keep insisting?
Frail fingers reached for his, grasping: weak like a child. Her pale grey eyes were begging.
“Stop it, Mother. Please,… just stop.”
A machine whirred and hissed as the old woman struggled to speak. James closed his eyes, a tear spilling against his cheek.
The forms he clutched crumpled in his fist.
“I never loved you.” Her thin voice was desperate. James turned and arranged the flowers in the vase.
Without another word, he dropped the ruined forms into the trash.
(c) Tim Austin, 2016. Photo by Daan Stevens on Unsplash
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This story is powerful to me personally for many reasons. I apologise if it causes any upset in the reading – this is the kind of thing that occasionally swims in my head.
A massive thank you to Emma Wallace – a kind and very beautiful soul – for suggesting this word. If you’ve a word that you’d like me to turn into a story, pop it in the comments or tweet it to @timaustin2k using the hashtag #onewordonestory.
Come back tomorrow for “Archive”.
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