I (sometimes) call myself Mr. Pondersome. I'm a rather wordy, weirdy person. I say hullo a lot. I write a lot more. While you're here, why not give some of it a read?

Friday 29 March 2013

"Conjunctions" (a.k.a. Some Flash Fiction Stories Based around Connectives)


AND

 

            John found the land, Jack began construction. John opened the plantation, Jack laid the last brick. John took the office, Jack took the shed. John got married, Jack slept with the bride. John made regular inspections, Jack avoided him. John attended shareholder meetings, Jack oversaw deliveries. John started lying, Jack started lying. John enhanced statistics, Jack took bribes. John went on business trips, Jack slept with the wife. John stopped going to shareholder meetings, Jack stopped overseeing deliveries. John rested in his office, Jack demolished his shed. John's PA sent the wrong envelope, Jack's dog was shot. John was put under investigation, Jack took the law into his own hands. John overdosed on his wife's prescription, Jack fucked with the wrong people. John slipped away, Jack fell down.

 

            They were twins.

 

BUT

 

            'Are you sure?' she crashed down onto the sofa.

            'Yes.' he lowered himself.

            'It doesn't seem right.' she brought her hands together.

            'Of course it doesn't.' he breathed.

            'They were here just yesterday.'

            'I'm not disputing that.'

            'They even left something.' she pulled out cushions.

            'I picked it up.' he held up the tape measure.

            'They said they needed it.' she took a swig of tea. 'Said they needed it again.'

            'Did they say why?'

            'No.'

            A long pause.

            'I'm not quite used to this.' Her lip quivered.

            'Of course not.' He laid a hand on her back.

            'They said they'd be back. No time at all.'

            'I know.'

            She turned to him, crumpled tissue in hand. 'Are you sure?'

            'They were.' he reached for a tissue. 'But they're gone now.'

           

OR

 

            It was like life was teeming with flashbulbs or a small woman dressed in cotton or an establishing shot of Shangri-La or the broad strokes on a fading painting or calling the right number at the best time or not having to go to the dentist or a kissing contest involving every person you ever described as 'fetching' or the closing joke of a bad comic or the one moment in a mediocre day where you're not in the shit or the blessing given by a gruff man-child or the way a street light catches a pram or a question that makes everybody laugh or the first time you went out for takeaway or the verification that what you just heard wasn't nearly as bad as they said it would be or the punch of saying 'I just did' or the best bath of your childhood. I'm just saying.

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