Magic Shoes

A wizened old man had handed Charlie the battered, 1950s style football boots.

“Belonged to Best!” He claimed. “Still got his magic in ‘em!”

Before his next game, Charlie pulled them on, accidentally snapping a lace in his eagerness.

‘Won’t matter!’  he thought.

…

They lost 5-0; Charlie missed a penalty.

Survival of the Fittest

“Good day at work Rex?”

“Not bad, apart from that upstart.”

“Eh?”

“Some tiny fella, with a big mouth, thinking that he’s in charge, cos he has opposable thumbs.”

“Never mind. If he’s that small, he'll be squashed soon enough; by one of us or that meteor I've heard about…”

Dahl-ing with OFSTED:

Crunchem Hall’s inspection was not going as hoped.

Behaviour management policies were being fiercely scrutinized.

Observations noted children being picked up by their ears, thrown, and even locked in cupboards!

The Head invited the inspector into her office with a conspiratorial wink.

Then she threw him out of the window.

More than they Bargained for?

All 3 items had bombed.

The bonus buy did little better.

“The losing team are the Reds!” declared Wonnacott.

“You realise the initial £300 is only a loan?”

Ken and Norman laughed along.

“You can’t pay it; we break thumbs.”

An awkward silence followed.

“As I thought.” Wonnacott declared. “DICKINSON!”

Hard Bargain

They were the most successful partnership in the show’s history.

They'd long discussed how to maximise their ‘winnings’, before settling on a strategy.

Now, they were £300 up, and with 2 Bargain Hunt fleeces!

“Stop them!” shouted Wonnacott.

Doris and Frank kept running; they'd started straight after receiving the cash.

Guest Saga:

When I was shot, fear seized me at first. 

No surprise that. 

But once I realized I wasn’t going to die – despite the thermonuclear pain and widening puddle of weirdly warm blood – my mind recalibrated. 

And one thought, comforting yet disturbing, leapt into my head: I need to Tweet this.


This is a mini-saga written by the author Daniel H Pink. After I'd been inspired to start writing myself, it was one of the first that I found after a quick google search. I would also go as far as to say that it's still one of the best I've read.

Thought I'd post it here as this blog has laid dormant for a while, and it might inspire me to start writing again.

Not Happy?

“You look like you’re not happy”

Danny worded his reply carefully.

“I wouldn’t say I’m ‘not happy’.”

Oh, no. Being ‘not happy’ implied an absence of happiness.

What he had was different; the presence of unhappiness deserved its own clear distinction.

It was far worse. And it had enveloped him.

January Blues

Danny had never believed in the January blues.

Until now.

Getting up in the dark. Grafting. Going home in the dark…

He was thoroughly fed up.

He contemplated his misery on the toilet one Saturday morning.

He finished.

Then he had a miracle wipe!

All was well in the world!

Massive act of plagiarism

One day, I came home from school just like normal.

I was hungry so I had a packet of smoky bacon crisps.

Then Dad came in.

He looked very serious.

He told me that Archie was very poorly, and that the vet couldn’t save him.

Things aren’t the same anymore.

Untitled

Will was irritated.

It was like there was some kind of conspiracy;

Every day, wherever he drove, everyone around him was purposely slowing down!

It was as if they thought he wouldn’t notice;

That’s what drove him mad!

Some days, he wondered if he should even be a traffic officer.

Difficulty Level: High

The letter changed everything.

Mario was acting for the greater good, but it hardly seemed to matter to these do-gooders.

Rescuing the Princess was already a tough task, but now he was going to have to attempt it with the RSPCA on his case;

Koopas were officially an endangered species.

License to let die?!

“Our agent is imprisoned in Dr. Bondcastrator's lair, in an electrified cage, surrounded by a shark tank. The lair is hidden inside an active volcano, where every possible entrance is guarded by a henchman, armed with a flame thrower, and a fierce dog. Can you get him out Bond?!”

“No.”

Trip

Paul’s position was a difficult one.

The purpose of this trip was for the boys to have fun.

And he didn’t object to that.

But he felt responsible for them.

Without spoiling everyone’s fun, he wanted to ensure they remained safe.

It’s tough being ‘the sensible one’ on a stag.

"It's the players' responsibility now."

He had been happy with his team selection throughout the tournament.

As they took the field for the final, he began to feel nervous for the first time.

He’d picked his team. Now, all he could do was watch.

If they won: Glory... well, 32 quid of sweepstake money, anyway.

Clive's nap

Clive woke up, and rubbed his eyes, in surprise.

Though he’d only planned on having a quick nap, he soon realised that a whole century had passed him by!

This had obviously altered things quite dramatically...

Out of nothing, England suddenly had a great chance of winning the test match.

Regret

He woke up, already regretting last night’s decision.

He was slightly ashamed, and also felt dirty.

A simple action would have averted this feeling; an action he’d taken countless times before.

But not last night.

His mouth felt disgusting.

If only he had brushed his teeth before going to bed.

Renewed Enthusiasm!

Having been away on holiday, Danny came back, and did the usual things;

Threw his bag down (to be unpacked later) had a cuppa, checked his emails, looked at his blog...

In 2 days, it had more views than it had received in weeks!

Danny started thinking about new posts...

Quantifying success

The young TV producer looked on delightedly.

He had been grafting, paying his dues, and climbing the ladder for years.

Finally, here was a piece of video evidence, showing that he’d made it.

For the very first time, one of his programmes was being mocked on Harry Hill’s TV Burp! 

Assignment 5 in 50 words

It is interesting to consider whether popular poetry of the 1950’s made its readers into passive consumers.

My personal experience is that, while reading Ginsberg, I did indeed become passive.

This was because after about a line and a half, I didn’t have a fucking clue what was going on.

Βουλιμία

Anna had no option but to gulp her food down quickly; there was somewhere she planned on being very soon afterwards.

She finished the whole meal in a matter of minutes.

Then, Anna moved on to her next engagement.

Kneeling by the toilet, she pushed her fingers into her throat.