The End of Days – an open letter

Excuse me, I think its the end of days.

Self Checkout

“Here’s your paycheque.” The electronically-buzzing voice and the small envelope both came from the same small slot.

“Thanks.” Jenson said habitually. He knew there wasn’t a person on the other side of the slot.

Without opening his envelope, Jenson had spent years waiting for this day, he knew what was in it, he headed down the corridor for the HR office.

Once I woke – a haiku

Once I woke at night,
Then slept through till afternoon,
I’ve slept ever since.

Redundancy and Retraining

“Tell me about it,” Dave surveyed two or three of the mugs on the draining board, “I haven’t had a pay rise in years.”

What Roald Dahl wanted us to know – an elevator pitch

What if the greatest children’s author of the twentieth century hadn’t made any of it up? What if everything he wrote was true, the name’s changed to protect four of the most dangerously gifted people in the world? What if the secret came out now.

The prettiest girl on the bus

“My fondest memory?” She took a sip from her glass that smoothly became a gulp. “Surely you mean my most fond memory.”

“Yes, of course you’re right. So what was it?”

“Well I can tell you what it wasn’t. My first husband. Nine years there I shan’t be seeing again.” Punctuating her remark, she finished the glass of wine.

Dining alone

“Excuse me.” Norman Trowel had been shuffling by the bar, trying to attract the waitress’ attention for almost ten minute before he decided that she definitely wasn’t busy enough for it to be rude for him to attract her attention.

“Yes?” The waitress put down her phone as she answered, not entirely but enough to move it out of her eye-line. “Can I help you?”

Norman inferred that she was hopeful she couldn’t.

In peace and together

President Said gave a small cough before approaching the microphone. This was to be an historic moment, the historic moment, and he didn’t want his speech to be remembered with his voice breaking before he’d even made it.