Tiny stories: number three

Stephen realised immediately he had said ‘goodbye’ too early as they both turned to walk in the same direction. After five minutes of silence, the awkwardness was almost unbearable. By the time the waiter came to take their order, the date was basically a complete write-off.

*****

Peering out of the aeroplane window, you say: “Those people down there look like ants.” The girl in the seat next to you says: “They are ants.” At this point, the plane is already 30,000 feet in the air. “How can you see that from this height?,” you say, “Wait, more importantly, how could I see that?” She smiles and says: “You think that’s amazing? Wait until you realise that this conversation isn’t out loud. Now, shall we get out of here?”

*****

Martin left the dentist’s surgery with mixed feelings. On the one hand, the appointment had quickly descended into a comprehensive rumdown of his sub-standard oral hygiene and the moral and ethical failings this implied about his character. On the other hand, the dentist had finished by saying, “and we’ll see you again in six months”, so the situation couldn’t be quite as bad as he’d earlier suggested.

*****

It just didn’t make any sense. How did the trolley get there? The closest supermarket was five miles away, in the next town. Why would someone steal a trolley, let alone take it this far? The constable looked up and down the row of houses, and sighed. He’d have to go door-to-door and see if anyone had seen anything resembling a trolley theft in the past twenty four hours. He didn’t hold much hope – everyone was too wrapped up in their own trivial problems these days to focus on things that really matter. Of course, the ideal person to ask would have been that man bundled up inside the trolley, but, obviously, he’d been strangled. Which was another thing to worry about. Another round of futile door-to-door enquiries. One thing at a time, Lawrence, old boy. Just you figure out this trolley mess first.

Tiny stories: number two

“Are they for you?”, asked the pharmacist as she put the tablets in a bag. “No, they’re for my wife”, said Michael, “but don’t mention them when she comes back over.”

***

Most nights recently, Tom struggled to get to sleep because he was worried about being attacked by wolves if he dropped off. As he lay there, his mind would wander to thinking about how, when he was younger, his mother would always tell him that if he misbehaved he’d be attacked by wolves in his sleep. Of course, he never misbehaved, but that didn’t stop her. Every day, she’s say the same things. “Misbehave today, Tom,” she would call from her bed as he made her lunch, “and wolves will attack you in your sleep”. “I never misbehave, Mother”, he would shout back as he rummaged in the drawer for her leg ointment. This was completely true until last week when, in a moment of weakness, he’d pushed her down the stairs. Tom kept his eyes on the door and didn’t sleep.

***

Steven died during the seance. Although this offered him the perfect opportunity to let everyone know what had happened, he decided not to mention it. They all seemed to be having such a good time, and he didn’t want to ruin the mood just yet.

Tiny stories: number one

Sean was now convinced he was going to be late, his earlier optimism about the situation completely gone. He adjusted his tie and look over the meeting briefing notes once again. The client was going to be furious, he knew it. He mulled over several possible apologies while absentmindedly checking for new emails on his phone. Calm down, he told himself, this is just a blip. The alarm went off and he bashed ‘Snooze’ once more. Just a blip, he repeated to himself. He reached back under the duvet for the newspaper and had another go at the crossword.

***

It was just before Michelle struck her boss for a fourth time that it dawned on her that she may not, in fact, be much of a “big picture person”. And, as the noise from the now-barricaded conference room door grew louder, she was forced to acknowledge that she really didn’t “think team”. But, in that moment, as she crushed the assessment form into a ball and forced it deep into its author’s mouth, it certainly felt as if she was giving 110%.

***

I’d give that marriage less than a year, thought the church gardener as the happy families slowly dispersed through the gates. He often amused himself by thinking such things about the couples he saw pass him by each weekend as he tended to the church grounds. He’d not been wrong yet, a fact to which he was entirely oblivious.