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 Weekly Write #5

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Secret Attic
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PostSubject: Weekly Write #5   Weekly Write #5 EmptyThu Nov 19, 2020 5:32 pm

Dialogue Prompts:

1. “You've said it now.” 
2. "Can you move?"
3. "You're too late, he died last year."

To take part, choose a prompt to include and click on POST REPLY to post your story of no more than 300 words. Do not add, or delete the piece of dialogue, they should read exactly as above.


Last edited by Secret Attic on Wed Nov 25, 2020 1:26 pm; edited 2 times in total
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PostSubject: POSTED ON BEHALF OF LIZ BREEN   Weekly Write #5 EmptyFri Nov 20, 2020 9:38 am

POSTED ON BEHALF OF LIZ BREEN

There was so little to smile about, that’s what Joanne’s neighbour had said. It’s so miserable now, she went on. Joanne only wanted to know if she wanted anything from the supermarket as she was going to get some bits. Ooh, go on then, Iris said, fetch me some of those minty biscuits with the foil wrapper.
The queue snaked around the carpark. More deadpan faces and tired limb shimmied alone remaining the requisite two metres apart, face masks, like botox, no expression available.
Joanne moved along as she was supposed to, as the queue edged ever nearer the entrance. Boredom took hold.
There was that game Joanne played years ago as a teenager with her siblings in the car. Her brother had just passed his test. They called it the Bob and Phyllis game, she remembered. You have to get your fun where you can these days, she decided.
The object of the game was to be in a queue, as in the car, all those years ago, and leave a gap between your car and the car in front to irritate the driver behind. Bob and Phyllis were named as the generic couple looking infuriated, in the rear view mirror.
Joanne watched everyone takes a few steps forward but she held her nerve, smiling to herself. The rebellion, the minor victory against the establishment, was making her giggle. She stayed put as everyone inched forward again. She looked behind to see a face, annoyed, not seeing the humour.
“Can you move?”
Joanne smiled as the shopper returned to their space in the queue behind her. She counted to thirty in her head and slowly moved along, shortening the gap that had opened up. God bless, Bob and Phyllis, whoever they are.

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PostSubject: Re: Weekly Write #5   Weekly Write #5 EmptySat Nov 21, 2020 10:01 am

POSTED ON BEHALF OF GRAHAM CRISP

The credits at the end of another EastEnders episode were rolling down Mabel’s TV screen when the doorbell rang.

“I wonder who that can be?” Thought Mabel, “I don’t get callers at this time.” She hesitated for a second, but fearing that it might be an emergency, she shuffled along the hallway, checking that the chain latch was secured, before she opened the door.

“YOU”, Mabel exclaimed, “What do want?” A young woman stood before her. She spoke softly. “Look Mum, I don’t want to make a fuss, I just want to say sorry to you and to Dad.”

Mabel’s eyes narrowed, “You're too late, he died last year.” She released the chain from its base and waved the woman in. “Come on Pamela, its cold standing here, go into the living room, you know where it is.”

Pamela, head down, entered the house and headed for a chair in the living room. “NOT THERE, that’s your Fathers chair, sit here on the settee.”

“How did he …….?”

“Heart attack, it was swift”

“I’m sorry.”

“Well after all you put us through, after you did …… what you did……. he was never the same.”

“Ostracised at work and here only Mavis, two doors down, and Mr. Patel in the corner shop, were speaking to us, what would you expect?”

Pamela dabbed her eyes with a greying handkerchief. “Honestly Mum, I am really sorry.”

Mabel stood. “Anyway, you’re here now, I’ll put the kettle on.” 

Mabel slipped into the kitchen, she pulled two cups and saucers from the top cupboard. Her keen ears heard footsteps. She peered out of the kitchen just quickly enough to see her front door closing.

Mabel looked sideward into the living room; she saw that her purse was missing.

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PostSubject: Re: Weekly Write #5   Weekly Write #5 EmptySat Nov 21, 2020 11:10 am

Prompt 1 - 

The Wrong Job
Secret Attic

You would have done the same. Christ, I’ve been a bloody Saint. 
When I think about it; I don’t know how I put up with it all for so long. 
I mean, take a look at Mary - what a fat bitch she is. 
So I told her; I said, “You’re a fat bitch.” It wasn’t a lie because she is. Fat. And a bitch. 
She hit me when I told her the truth. Slapped me right round the face. Add violent to her character too. 
Now take Terry, he is one selfish prick if ever there was one. Rude, arrogant, selfish prick. I told him too; I said, “You’re a rude, arrogant, selfish prick.” He cried. I was shocked that he cried to be fair.
And as for Jessica, you could have hours of fun joining up the spots on her face. And I told her so; I said, “Man, you’re spotty as fuck!” She cried too. I didn’t see her for days after that. 
Then we have Freddie, a right know-it-all little shit. And I told him so; I said, “You’re a know-all-smart-arse, Freddie me lad.”  All he did was point his self-righteous nose in the air saying that I can't take it back; "You've said it now." he sniffled. Not that I had any intention of taking it back.
So, you see… would you put up with people like that around you all day? 
No, thought not. 
So, I walked out. 
Teaching ain’t for me.

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PostSubject: Re: Weekly Write #5   Weekly Write #5 EmptyMon Nov 23, 2020 11:02 pm

The Phone Call
Mary shuffled over to the side table and picked up the phone.
‘Hello? May I help you?’ she spoke clearly; she hated when people didn’t enunciate properly.
There was a clicking sound then a female voice with an American accent set off on her prepared script.
‘Good morning, ma’am, please may I speak to Mr Frank Brown?  I’m calling with very good news for Mr Brown.’
‘I’m sorry.  Frank Brown is not here.  I’m Mrs Brown, you can talk to me.’
‘No, ma’am, I need to speak to Mr Brown.  I have some good news to give him, and I have to speak to him personally.’
‘I’m sorry, that won’t be possible.  You’ll have to speak to me if there’s anything to do with him.’
‘Ma’am, Mr Brown will really want to speak to me.  I know he will.  I have great news to tell him.’
Mary sighed.  She hated these calls.  She hated what she had to say.
‘You’re too late, he died last year.’
The line clicked dead and the good news lady hung up without further conversation.

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PostSubject: Re: Weekly Write #5   Weekly Write #5 EmptyTue Nov 24, 2020 8:46 pm

Just over 3 hours left of the Weekly Write #5 - then comments/likes are welcomed.

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PostSubject: Re: Weekly Write #5   Weekly Write #5 EmptyWed Nov 25, 2020 4:31 pm

Liz Breen story - enjoyed this. We've all got a little of that rebellious streak in us and I could easily identify and see myself doing something similar.

Graham Crisp - to write a complete story in so few words and to portray 2 characters so well, is some achievement. Felt like I was in the room with them.

Secret Attic - still laughing even as I write this. Didn't see the twist coming. I wonder how many teachers could actually relate? Very nicely done.

Elaine - We've probably all endured these type of phone calls at some point or other, so again it was very easy to relate. Empathy is a good ingredient in any story. Although I could see the twist it didn't diminish my enjoyment and there were some nice touches such as Mary's dislike of poor enunciation.

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PostSubject: Re: Weekly Write #5   Weekly Write #5 EmptyWed Nov 25, 2020 4:57 pm

Liz Breen: Loved this and will be very tempting to do it.

Graham Crisp: Really do enjoy your flashes and this is another good one. Saying so much in so few words, isn't easy.

Elaine: Nuisance call bringing back the reality of Frank's death... I really enjoyed this one!

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PostSubject: Re: Weekly Write #5   Weekly Write #5 EmptyWed Nov 25, 2020 7:49 pm

Thank you all for your kind and very encouraging comments, they spur me on!
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