Six Word Stories #28

I’ll play you without a plectrum.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2017

Six Word Stories #27

Your G-string replaces my guitar string.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2017

Come Unto Me (based on a true story)

I feasted my eyes upon the gorgeous frescoes that adorned the ceiling one more time, then turned to the exit. When I reached the wide doorway, I saw that today (to my great surprise) the forecasters had been right. There was a heavy rain.

Of course, I hadn’t taken an umbrella. Who can properly enjoy walking around one of the most splendid European capitals with unnecessary stuff in hand? One hand is for my camera, another hand is for ice-cream cones. A third is not a given.

I turned around with the intention of going back into the church and waiting out the storm. No such luck. A stodgy man in a black robe blocked the passage. In answer to my wordless question he pointed to the notice board. It stated that the canonical hour would be starting soon, so I went out to the big porch in the rain. There was no choice.

The porch was quickly filling up with people. The rear pushed at the front, perplexed as to why they would stand out in the downpour and not enter. Toward them moved ‘exiles’ like me who had been turned out of the building. A sullen acolyte stood at the centre of this live whirlpool like a hard-shelled bouncer at a night club doorway. It looked like no one was fitting the dress code for this private party today.

I lifted my face to the grey sky and inhaled the heavy, wet air. Some huge raindrops fell on my cheek. I smiled and shrugged my shoulders. There’s always choice.

I covered my head with a leaflet detailing the schedule of canonical hours, and ran to a bar opposite the church. Thank god these sanctuaries are always willing to embrace and warm the sick and suffering. Amen.

by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2017

THE ABCs OF A PECULIAR LIFE // G is for Giraffe & Geniality

My neighbour is a giraffe. She’s just given birth to two little babies. Well, they’re little as far as she’s concerned, but big as far as the rest of us are concerned. It’s a matter of perspectives, I suppose. And ladders.

Sometimes my neighbour forgets to put on her maternity bra. When she comes over for afternoon tea, she accidentally lactates all over my fresh clean tablecloth. I know she can’t help it, and there is such a thing as postnatal depression, but still…

Look, no one likes to be rained upon—that’s all I’m saying. Now I’ll have to put the Royal Doulton teacups through the industrial grade autoclave. And, well, she’ll be visiting again tomorrow…

I hope she doesn’t cry. The leaking is bad enough, but the emotional fallout? I don’t know what to do with that. How many times can she keep forgetting? How long must I play the hospitable host?

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2017

100 WORD SKITTLE // Jump-Off (Follow-up to Push-Up)

That boob was rather more tangible than my eyes had led me to believe.

No mere shadow, it yielded beneath my boots when I jumped on, and as I catapulted away it sprang back into perky, domed perfection. Actually, I don’t know for a fact that it did. I was rocketing at such speed that I was physically unable to check behind me.

No bother. I was more interested in the giant, fiery nipple in the sky. If I could reach that then the Areola Belt wouldn’t be out of the question. Good thing I was wearing my space suit!

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2017