Category: Creativity

The Business Plan

Betty sighed heavily. This gawky, nineteen-year-old with limp ginger hair and a pungent nylon parka was offering her a massage. It wasn’t easy running a valleys hairdressing business where people thought £8 for a shampoo and set was daylight robbery. Could the day get any worse?

Nigel’s sister Sian was a good little hairdresser; sassy and stylish and the elderly customers who still remembered the heady excitement of jitterbugging with GI’s in the Memorial Hall liked hearing what nights out with the girls were like these days.

Betty hadn’t believed it when Sian told her Nigel would ring her with a business proposition and now, looking at him standing there in her office, with acne capable of independent life and fingers fidgeting in his pockets, the prospect of him being able to give a massage, let alone a decent one, was about as unlikely as a Lionel Blair and a troupe of trained fruit bats tap-dancing their way across the Newport transporter bridge. Continue reading “The Business Plan”

Cupboard Love

The rumour was that Miss Rosenthal had been found in the chemistry lab store cupboard with Mr Armitage with her blouse undone, and buttons missing, and her hair all over the place, and that the headmistress had called them into her office to discuss their future prospects at the school. Continue reading “Cupboard Love”

Tidal Wave (August creative comp)

It was a great afternoon session. Pints after pint of Furstenberg’s were going down the hatch in the lusty tavern that soaked with Teutonic testosterone. Boris was enjoying his lunchtime tipple and had held fast to one of his father’s dictums: Go to the loo only when it’s really due. The reasoning being, your first visit is a starter for ten. Everyone else had relieved themselves bar Boris when it was time to leave.

Some of the party made a detour into the bookmakers for a quick punt. Boris gambled on Leek Soup in the big race. It was a poor starter and the gelding pulled up lame as the basin that was Boris’s bladder began to gurgle. He willed away the notion to urinate as one pee will lead to another and he had no time for a flood as he had to go back to work in his office block. Continue reading “Tidal Wave (August creative comp)”

VR, a writing competition entry

VR

The practice of disguise is not an art; to believe otherwise is to fall into an error of logical thinking, to fall prey to the kind of sentimentalising followed by my good friend, Dr. John Watson, a man of otherwise robust virtues and stoutheartedness. Disguise is a tool of detection, as necessary as a magnifying glass; it is the means by which the investigator can pass unnoticed into worlds unreachable by a gentleman, the sordid worlds of poverty and crime. Continue reading “VR, a writing competition entry”

Miss Polly (Short story Competition)

Josie looked out at the rain with an air of frustration. Squally showers and a buffeting wind had arrived since lunch time: not ideal weather to encourage Polly to come out of her shell and let go of her ragdoll. She seemed to be permanently attached to the thing lately, not wanting to join in with anything or anyone, wearing a subdued mood like a cloak. Continue reading “Miss Polly (Short story Competition)”

The real thing…

I have been asked how I enjoyed the ‘Arvon’ course and the response is that is was absolutelybloodyfantastic and I’m already thinking I may book another one next year.

The house, ‘The Hurst’ is in Shropshire, just outside Clun and the setting is beautiful, especially, of course at this time of the year. The grounds are extensive, the lake very peaceful, shimmering with damsel flies, and the trees magnificent and full of birdsong. Continue reading “The real thing…”

Christopher Robin and the Station of Fear

Alice was waiting on the station platform.
“Flippin’ heck, CR, you look whiter than a nun’s knickers.”
“You are not going to believe it.
“Oh yea,” said Alice, “what happened?”
“After I left you at Buckingham Palace, oh and by the way, what is it with you and those guardsmen, you were grinning like a Cheshire cat when the sergeant offered to darn your socks for you.”
“You know me,” sniggered Alice, “I like a man in uniform”.
“And out of uniform too, from what I have heard”.
“Watch it. Just because ….Hehhhey, CR, who is that?” Continue reading “Christopher Robin and the Station of Fear”