Dear all,
we have a few (6) entries, and I wish to thank all authors who did contribute.
I will post all entries here and each entry will get a number.
Voting is as usual sort the entries according to your personal criteria. Mention the top 3 here. Points will be awarded thsu: 1st 5, 2nd 3, 3rd 1 point.
Voting will end in one week (Wednesday 19th at 16 p.m. RHP-time).
After the vote the winner will be declared, and discussion and critique will be posted. Authors will (or won't) identify.
All pieces are copyright of the respective authors.
have fun.
To all authors if you detect any error on my side, please contact me via pm or mail and we will try to recify the situation.
PS: Some people fear that there will be manipulation by open voting, so you can send your vote to me. I will announce that there was another vote and I will make the votes public at the end of the voting period.
#1
Desperately Seeking Inspiration
A new week had begun. The sun was shining and all was well at the Red Hot Coffee Shop. Barista’s toiled away to deliver everyone their morning fix of caffeine while waiters served patrons cheerfully. ‘Twas its usual happy place.
Alas, a different story was unfolding upstairs. The Red Hot coffeemakers had recently created a corking new blend – an espresso with steamed milk flavoured with chocolate (yum!) but the marketing team were struggling to come up with a worthy brand name.
‘Focus on the chocolate angle’ said Stewart, for the ninety-seventh time. ‘I came up with some fairly sound ideas last week but I can’t do it all on my own’ he added, looking purposefully at Alan, who in turn glanced at his manager’s offerings on the whiteboard and winced; “coffolate” and “chocofee”. You can do better than that said Alan to himself. But would he?
Alan’s career trajectory tended to stutter rather than ascend and if he didn’t buck up soon he’d be hitting rock bottom once again, which was a shame because Alan enjoyed working at the Red Hot Coffee Shop. ‘Twas a homely place.
At the age of thirteen, when asked for the capital of England Alan replied Paris much to the amusement of his school chums.
‘By ‘eck lad, if you don’t know where thee live’ chided Mr Barraclough, his geography teacher, ‘how on earth will thee know where you’re going in life?’
It was a comment that haunted poor Alan. Shortly afterwards Mummy was shot in a ditch and from that moment on life lost all its magic. He did manage, on one occasion, to win second prize in a church raffle but even then the price of the ticket was twice that of the headstone voucher.
‘Oh, I’ve got something!’ said Stewart.
Oh no thought Alan, this is usually the moment when Stewart comes over all Shakespearian.
‘If chocolate be the flavour of coffee drink on! What do you think guys?’
Snap!
‘Sorry Stewart, I’ve broken my pencil’ said Alan, heading for a replacement.
The stationery cupboard, kept in the storage room, was one of Alan’s safe havens and although he had every intention of ruminating on the task in hand his attention was immediately diverted by the presence of a second stationery cupboard. Any hopes of finding exciting science fiction themed pencils were quickly dashed by the solitary presence of a Siamese cat.
‘Morning, good it is’ said the cat. ‘Follow me, you will.’
Mysterious and mysteriouser thought Alan, following the cat through the cupboard and into a dark, foreboding forest.
‘Where am I?’
‘Find out you will’ said the cat, before vanishing.
One path weaved its way through the forest but which direction to take kept Alan rooted to the spot.
‘EE BY GUM!’ echoed a loud cry through the trees.
Whatever horrors Alan had imagined encountering none was as terrifying as this – namely his old geography teacher! Casting his nerves to one side, Alan followed the voice to a large oak tree underneath which stood a diminutive figure wearing a flat cap so baggy Alan couldn’t tell for sure whether it was Mr Barraclough or not.
‘Hello.’
‘Ey up.’
‘Where am I?’
‘By ‘eck lad ‘ere! Where else would tha be. Chuffin’ hell.’
With every word spoken the Yorkshire man’s cap grew bigger, drooping over his head completely.
Ee by gum indeed thought Alan, somewhat unimpressed, and continued along the path. He hadn’t gone far when another cry stopped him in his tracks.
‘Baa baa.’
‘Oh no’ gasped Alan, turning a corner there stood a sheep on its haunches upon a tree stump, wearing a pink bow.
‘Baa baa.’
A shiver ran down Alan’s spine. A ewe, just like the one Mummy sank its teeth into one autumnal evening before a farmer chased her into a ditch.
‘What the hell do you think you’re gawping at?’ demanded the ewe.
‘Sorry.’
‘Baa baa’ continued the ewe, ‘baa baarbaara ann. I wish they all could be Californian Reds.’
‘Not the Beach Boys’ sobbed Alan. ‘They were Mummy’s favourite band.’
The next stop along Alan’s magical mystery tour was by a lake where a man, dressed in a poncho, appeared to be balancing a dumbbell upon a plate of pink blancmange.
‘No chance’ commented Alan.
‘Life is about balance, my friend’ said the man turning slowly. ‘Chi is everything and everything is chi.’
He proceeded to place the dumbbell on the blancmange. Probably an illusion thought Alan, somewhat impressed, until the blancmange splattered in all directions that is. After some consideration the man spoke; ‘How about an anvil upon a plate of salmon mousse my friend?’
What Alan thought we’ll never know for he’d scarpered and at that moment was standing beneath a tree in the middle of a colourful garden. What captured Alan’s attention was the array of star trek memorabilia hanging from the branches.
‘Am I in heaven?’ he wondered.
‘No’ said a snake emerging from the tree top.
‘Oh! Is this the garden of Eden?’
‘No.’
‘Can I have Dr McCoy’s stethoscope?’
‘No.’
‘Do you say anything apart from no?’
‘No.’
‘Inspired have you been?’ asked the Siamese cat, suddenly reappearing.
‘It’s not so much Alice in wonderland, more Alan in the crappest place on earth!’
‘It’s not what you get in life’ replied the cat, ‘but what you make of it.’
‘Where the hell have you been?’ demanded Stewart on Alan’s return. ‘Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fire you?’
Spotting “choffee” on the whiteboard, Alan said the first thing that came to mind.
‘Cap-ewe-chi-no.’
‘Cap you what?’ spluttered Stewart.
‘It’s the combination of different elements brought together’ said Alan, hopefully.
‘That sounds like the Red Hot Coffee Shop’ said Isabella, the owner with a smile. ‘Cappuccino! I like it. It’s catchy. It’s Italian isn’t it? Will you join me for a cappuccino to celebrate?’
‘Love to I would’ replied Alan.
#2 Dark and Stormy
It was a dark and stormy night, and the only sound in the abandoned building was the patter of rain on the roof. Sarah and her friends had decided to explore the old warehouse, despite the rumors of strange happenings in the area.
As they made their way through the maze of dusty corridors, Sarah couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. She kept turning around, half expecting to see something lurking in the shadows.
But it wasn't until they reached the basement that Sarah's worst fears were confirmed. They found themselves face to face with a group of zombies, their skin pale and their eyes glowing with an eerie light.
Sarah and her friends tried to run, but the zombies were too fast. They cornered the group in a small room, and Sarah could feel their cold, clammy hands reaching out to grab her.
Just when all hope seemed lost, Sarah remembered the one thing that might save them. She had heard that zombies were susceptible to strong scents, and she happened to have a bottle of cappuccino-scented perfume in her bag.
Sarah quickly sprayed the perfume in the zombies' faces, and to her surprise, it worked. The zombies recoiled in disgust, their movements becoming slower and more sluggish.
Seizing the opportunity, Sarah and her friends made a break for it, running up the stairs and out into the rain-soaked night. They didn't stop until they were a safe distance away, gasping for breath and shaking with fear.
As they looked back at the warehouse, Sarah couldn't help but wonder what had caused the zombie outbreak. Had it been some sort of biological experiment gone wrong, or was it something more sinister?
Whatever the cause, Sarah knew one thing for sure: she would never forget the terror of that night, and the power of a good perfume.
#3 Wanda and Lewis
Larry was surprised to be next of kin of grand-aunt Wanda and thus the sole heir. There had been lots of talk about some niece or other from the other side of the family tree. But the lawyer had been very clear about this: „Listen Mr. Newcombe you can arrive for the funeral, which is a prerequisite for laying hands on the heritage, or you can just hang up and we are through with this business. The local gardening club will be happy to take everything.“
The funeral had been not only bleak, that was to be expected after all, but also quite lonely. Besides Larry there was the pastor, who found a nice story in his memory of Wanda caring for the roses in the backyard, and he made some speech about service in unseen places. There were the four guys from the funeral parlor, who had put up their best professional faces. And there had been this old man who introduced himself as Arthur, president of the gardening club and as it seemed only left member.
Mr. Johnson was very businesslike when Larry showed up for the reading of the will, which n itself was short. The relevant sentence read: „All of may earthly belongings go to my next of kin or, if they are unwilling to visit my funeral the Liberty Gardening Club.“
Now Larry was in possession of some stock, and the contents of his late grand-aunts flat. The rent had been paid for the month and Larry had to decide what to do with all the stuff. In fact most of the books could go directly to recycling, the furniture didn’t amount to much and Miss Arabella, the neighbor had volunteered to take all the clothes.
Larry pondered about his few meetings with Wanda and her husband Lewis. His mother Agatha had been one of the obscure nieces, and the last time h had seen Wanda was at Agatha’s funeral, that had been more than a dozen years. Larry wouldn’t have known the old woman, had she not introduced herself.
There was one visit they, Agatha and Larry had paid to the late couple when Larry had been about 12 years old. They had still lived in Chicago. It was then that Lewis had introduced Larry into the game of chess. A wave of nostalgia welled up inside him. Larry had been intrigued by the chessmen. Lewis had told him, that they were called „lewis chessmen“, just like him, and then he had excused them to the Ladies: „We men are about to have a game of chess and can’t be disturbed“. The women went for a walk and Lewis explained Larry the game.
After the women had come back, coffee was served. Larry remembered that Lewis had this espresso machine and served Cappuccino to the Ladies, while he himself took an espresso and Larry got a glas of warm milk. Ah the milk… Larry had taken the glass and with him to look again at the chessboard, and he had slipped and fallen to the floor, and cut himself. Wanda had been motherly, while Agatha had declared that they end their visit, since Larry couldn’t behave…. again.
So Larry went through the cupboards to look for the chess set and found it. It was a cheap plastic replica, but it was the one thing of emotional value for him he decided.
He gave Arabella a small sum of money to organize the removal of the useless things and went away home.
Larry put the chessmen into a drawer and promptly forgot about it until the day, when his Laura, who he dated brought a kind of nephew with her one day and asked him if he could baby-sit the boy for an afternoon. Little Allan was about 10 and bored. Larry had never had children, and no toys in the house, but when he thought what to do with Allan he remembered the chessmen and brought them out. He didn’t remember much of the rules of chess, so they just played some invented game on the floor.
They had some fun, but then Allan dropped the white Queen, and there was some sound to be heard. Larry picked up the figure and found a suspicious piece of tape at the bottom. When he removed it out fell, what looked like a piece of glass.
Larry shook his head about that old fool Lewis who had evidently put one of the splinters from Larry’s accident into the chess piece and disposed of the glas in the rubbish, not to traumatize little Allan. He gift the boy the chessmen at the end of the visit, shaking his head that he had brought it with him after all it was cheap plastic set.
#4 Arabian Nights
Dear sir/madam
I write to complain most strongly about the carpet bought recently from your store in Camden Market. I was quite clear when I purchased the carpet, I was only looking for something to lay in my spare bedroom and recall specifically stressing to the salesperson I was in no way interested in one from your flying range. You can imagine my surprise when I later went upstairs to do some light dusting and discovered the carpet hovering six feet off the ground, complete with expensive silk slippers and a terrified Chihuahua.
Upon reflection, there was something very suspicious about the man who sold me the carpet, noisily slurping his cappuccino while twiddling with his moustache. Thankfully I was not cajoled into also purchasing one of your lamps, suspecting as I now do that it was a lamp of the magic variety and that I would have been burdened with the task of supplying 3 wishes to a pushy genie. This in fact happened to my friend Helen who found herself so pressured that she ended up wishing for a talking hamster, better eyebrows, and a lifetime supply of sauerkraut. Given sufficient time to make her wishes I’m sure Helen, normally as sharp as a tack, would have wished for something sensible like immortality or world peace, but put on the spot by a giant blue entity ended up with an argumentative hamster, an aversion to sauerkraut and eyebrows so high on her forehead that she appeared perpetually surprised.
Please make arrangements to collect the offending carpet and issue me with a full refund. Please also inform your driver that I live in a natural underground chamber and under no circumstances are they to refer to it as a cave, magic or otherwise, or upon their arrival shout out, “Open sesame!” I have no idea how you are going to retrieve the carpet from the ceiling but will insist no sorcery be used to achieve the task. The chihuahua has endured enough today already.
Yours sincerely,
Mrs Brown.
#5 Once Upon A Time
Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess who lived in a towering castle surrounded by an enchanted forest. Word of Princess Penelope’s beauty spread far and wide. Maharajas sent treasure chests laden with the biggest and brightest jewels, sultans delivered magic carpets for her to ride while her own father, the king, bought her a unicorn. (And then bought another one because it was the wrong colour).
One fine, sunny morning, on the eve of her eighteenth birthday no less, Princess Penelope ventured forth into the local village for the first time. The enchanted forest, it is said, was never so enchanted as the princess made her way. Leprechauns laid their jackets on the forest path to keep her shoes clean, fairies sang sweet melodies and the wicked cyclops, emerging from his cave greedily at the enticing royal scent, promptly fainted the moment he clapped his eye on her.
Undaunted, the princess soon arrived in the village where she was greeted with an array of spectacular sights. There was a WH Smith, a Poundland and even a nice, shiny Primark.
‘Crikey!’ gasped Princess Penelope as she looked through the windows in wonder for never, ever had she seen so much tat in all her life! Undeterred she bravely entered each store in turn, emerging two hours later the happy owner of a Hansel and Gretel gingerbread pencil case, a Little Red Riding hood wrist watch and a pair of Puss in Boots’ boots.
‘What exquisite taste you have your Royal Highness if I may say so’ commented the Mayor, making an appearance. ‘Were you aware that on the hour your wrist watch will utter the phrases; “Goodness what a big hand you have!” and “All the better to tell the time with!”
‘Oh, I’m not going to use any of this rubbish’ laughed the princess, ‘I’m just going to show my Daddy, the king, some of the silly junk you sell in the village. And with these words she entered Costa Coffee for refreshment.
‘Good morning Princess’ said Holly, courteously. ‘How can I serve you today?’
‘A cappuccino’ spoke the princess, regally.
‘Oh, I’m really sorry but our cappuccino machine is out of order at the moment. Someone is on the way to make a repair. Is there anything else I can get you?’
‘Flippity flip!’ screamed the princess. ‘Get me a flipping cappuccino now or my Daddy, the king, will chop your flipping head off.
‘Is everything okay, Holly?’ asked Luke, Holly’s supervisor.
‘A customer wants a cappuccino.’
‘I’m not a customer. I’m a princess.’
‘Yes you are’ sighed Luke.
‘It’s you!’ said Princess Penelope pointing at Luke. ‘My Daddy, the king, chopped your head off.’
‘It grew back’ replied Luke.
‘If you don’t make me a cappuccino right now I’ll have it chopped off again!’
‘We do have an old Coffeemaster1000 in the back’ replied Luke, ‘if you don’t mind waiting’.
‘My Daddy, the king, makes me a cappuccino before bedtime every evening. He sees to it personally.’
‘What on earth’s a Coffeemaster1000’ whispered Holly as Luke made his retreat.
‘Payback’ said Luke, purposefully clearing his throat.
‘No!’ cried Holly, following Luke into the stockroom. ‘You can’t…in her coffee. It’s disgusting.’
‘Yes, it is’ said Luke. ‘Listen, I was just fourteen years old when I met Penelope. I was walking home from school in the pouring rain, soaked to the skin, when her carriage passed by. A gust of wind blew the curtain aside and there she was, the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. I fell in love at first sight and vowed I’d marry her and be her prince. Every Saturday I’d walk two miles up the hill to the castle to ask for work before finally I got a summer job there in the stables. Another two weeks passed until I saw her again. She was screaming at the top of her voice for gooseberries so the king gave me a few coins and told me to buy some from the village. I ran as fast as I could through the enchanted forest chased by the cyclops and struck by rocks thrown by leprechauns. Sweating and bleeding I presented the gooseberries an hour later. She took one gooseberry and spat it out in my face. “I don’t mean gooseberries you idiot” she said, “I mean strawberries!”
‘Sorry’ said Holly, softly.
‘The king said sorry too, and gave me a few coins.’
They were interrupted by a knock on the door. ‘Team meeting’ enquired Rebecca, ‘or are we getting the Coffeemaster1000 out again?’
‘You’ve done this before?’ gasped Holly.
‘Just the once’ said Rebecca. ‘Kevin.’
‘My ex?’
‘Sorry’ said Luke, ‘but he doesn’t come in anymore flirting with his latest girlfriend.’
‘That’s my problem not Kevin’s’ said Holly, before returning to the counter where a queue of customers had formed.
For a brief moment Luke and Rebecca thought carefully about their next actions until a shrill cry of ‘flippity hecking flip’ saw them commence work with vigour.
‘I say’ cried a customer, ‘do my ears deceive me or is that the Coffeemaster2000?’
‘I believe it’s the Coffeemaster1000’ replied Holly.
‘Oh no!’ insisted the customer. ‘The Coffeemaster2000 makes that distinct spitting sound you can hear.’
‘Flippity flip’ interrupted Princess Penelope. ‘How dare you utter the word spitting in my presence.’
‘Begging your pardon ma’am, I’m sure.’
It wasn’t long before silence reigned in Costa Coffee which signalled the arrival of the princess’ beverage.
‘I do apologise for your wait your highness.’
‘I should jolly well think so too’ said Princess Penelope glancing at her cup. ‘That’s suspicious’ she said, ‘very suspicious indeed!’
Luke’s, Holly’s and Rebecca’s hearts beat palpably when an unexpected miracle occurred. Princess Penelope began smiling! It was as if an iceberg was melting before them, producing tears even from the princess’ eyes.
‘Aww!’ she purred sweetly, ‘you made my cappuccino just like my Daddy, the king, makes it.’
#6 Tom
Tom had always been a bit of an oddball. He had a passion for chess that bordered on obsession, and he had a habit of muttering to himself while he played, much to the annoyance of his opponents.
One day, Tom decided to play a game of chess at a local coffee shop. He ordered a cappuccino and settled in at a table in the corner, spreading his chessboard out on the carpet. He was just beginning to make his opening moves when he noticed a man at a nearby table giving him a suspicious look.
Tom ignored the man and focused on the game, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. He moved his pieces carefully, trying to anticipate his opponent's next move, but he kept glancing over at the man and wondering what he was up to.
As the game progressed, Tom began to get increasingly paranoid. He started imagining all sorts of crazy scenarios: maybe the man was a spy, sent to steal his chess secrets. Or maybe he was a rival chess player, trying to sabotage Tom's game.
Finally, Tom couldn't take it anymore. He got up from the table and stormed over to the man's table, demanding to know why he was staring at him.
The man looked up at Tom with a puzzled expression. "Staring at you?" he said. "I was just admiring your carpet. It's a lovely shade of blue."
Tom looked down at the carpet beneath his feet and realized that he had completely forgotten about it. He felt a bit embarrassed, but also relieved that there was a perfectly innocent explanation for the man's behavior.
"Uh, thanks," Tom said sheepishly. "I guess I'm just a bit suspicious sometimes."
The man smiled and went back to his coffee. Tom returned to his table and took a sip of his cappuccino, feeling much calmer now that he knew the man wasn't out to get him.
He resumed his game, feeling a renewed sense of focus and determination. But just as he was about to make his winning move, he knocked over his cup of cappuccino, spilling it all over the board.
Tom stared in horror at the mess on the carpet. He had ruined the game, and he knew that there was no way to salvage it.
But then he had an idea. He grabbed a napkin and started drawing a new chessboard on the carpet, using the spilled cappuccino as the black squares. It was an unorthodox move, but Tom was feeling bold.
To his surprise, his opponent didn't object. In fact, he seemed impressed by Tom's creativity. The two of them played out the rest of the game on the improvised board, and when it was over, they shook hands and parted on friendly terms.
As Tom left the coffee shop, he realized that he had learned a valuable lesson: sometimes, the best moves in life are the ones that aren't in the rulebook.
@ponderable saidPonderable, I will vote today. There are long pieces to read and understand, I will be back in a few hours. 🙂
Not a single vote yet 🙁
I will vote probably tomorrow.
@ponderable saidreally difficult choice, all are very good, so talented will re-read them and then choose.
Not a single vote yet 🙁
I will vote probably tomorrow.
@Ponderable
Please everybody, take time to read the entries and vote. This competition is a fun tradition and the writers deserve our attention.
@torunn said...and another vote has arrived.
@Ponderable
Please everybody, take time to read the entries and vote. This competition is a fun tradition and the writers deserve our attention.
Be aware that I might be not so much online tomorrow and Wednesday, but I will count the votes Wednesday evening, and post the results.