Tales From The Town #22: The Slide

There was a slide under the stairs. They didn’t know where it went. They didn’t have a cellar or a basement. Or, at least, they hadn’t before.

“I’m not going down that slide,” Ethel said. “Not ever!”

“You’re scared!” Claire said triumphantly. “I’m not scared.”

“You are!” Ethel said. “You’re just pretending you aren’t.”

“I’m not!” Look! I’ll show you!”

And with that Claire sat down on the slide and slid off into the dark. It took a while, but eventually her screams faded out to nothingness.

No-one spoke for a very long time. They thought they could hear Claire calling, but it was just Anna and Oya having tea in the kitchen.

“Well, I’m not going down there to find out where’s gone,” Tina said.

“No am I,” Ethel agreed. “Not ever.”

“Daniel?” Tina asked.

“Nah.”

The three of them went off to play in the garden.

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Notes:

1. Written on May 6th, 2021

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Tales From The Town #21: The Bookshop

The books on the shelves changed every time you turned away. The words dripped from the pages like venom. By the time you got them home you did not know what you were going to find inside.

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Notes:

1. Written on May 8th, 2021

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Tales From The Town #19: Go

Jonathan sped out of the car park.
He sped down the street.
He sped along the bypass.
He sped past the beach.
He sped down the hill and round the roundabout and back up the hill.
He sped past the beach.
He sped along the bypass.
He sped up the street.
She sped into the car park.
Hand brake turn.
Full stop.
Engine off.

Pause.

Wind down the window.
Nod to the adjacent driver.
Cigarette butt out the window.
Smile.
Give them the eyes.
Engine on.
Wait.
Wait..
Wait…

There was no one in town who did not hear him go.

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Notes:

1. Written on the 7th and 8th of May, 2021

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Patreon subscribers get not just early access to content and also the occasional gift, but also my eternal gratitude. Which I'm not sure is very useful, but is certainly very real.

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Tales From The Town: More Pocket Editions

I made some of these last time my niece and nephew came to stay, and now they were here again we made some more. They are every bit as pointless as before, but also quite nice (and this time my niece made one of them herself, and even those she’s only nine she’s already better at all this than me).

These ones were only 4 rather than 8 pages long because to be honest I completely forgot we made them 8 pages long last time.

Pocket Edition #5

The fire horses ran across the lake, and no one could catch them.

Mouth

It wasn’t as big as it should be.

Nose, or possibly a snout

This was as far as it came. We saw no more of whatever beast it might have been.

Eye

No one knew who was to blame

Pocket Tales #6

The Forbidden

No one had ever been beyond. Or if they had, had not yet returned.

The Locked

The key was lost. The contents became more desirable with every passing day.

The Lost

Nobody knew whose they were. They waited and waited and waited and waited and

Pocket Tales #7

The Bird (From Above)

A crow made of scorch marks upon the grass upon the hill.

The Moon (Again)

The moon had no face. They would never forgive those that said that it did.

A View

It wasn’t worth the climb, let alone the fall.

An Escape

Freedom always leaves the captors feeling sad. That makes it even sweeter.

Pocket Tales #8

Mirror

It shimmered as if it was the sea.

Snail Hug

It might have been small but it mattered the most.

Violet On Cliff

It waited for the day the sea would consume it.

Bird Bench

They waited for him to return, as if they were family.

Pocket Tales #9

Shoes

They had been up there now longer than most of us had been alive.

A Coat

It blew through the night like a ghost.

The Hat (A Metaphor)

The hat was very dignified, until it burned beneath the sun.

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Notes:

1. Written between 10th August 2021 and 12th August 2021
2. Pocket Tales #8 was written by my niece Florence

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Thank you!


Tales From The Town #18: The Eggs

“Mum! Mum! The eggs hatched!”

“The eggs?” Agnes said.

“The eggs at school!”

“They were in an incubator!” The way Ethel said this she made it sound like four separate words rather than one whole one – ‘ink you bay tor’.

“There were three chicks!”

“And two ducks!”

“And an alligator!”

“And a shark!”

“There wasn’t a shark?!” Agnes said.

“There was!”

“It drowned!”

“But in the air!”

“It was so sad!”

“It wasn’t that sad,” said Claire.

“It was.”

“It really was.”

“It was the saddest thing ever.”

“It does sound quite sad.”,” Agnes said.

“It wasn’t sad at all,” Claire insisted.

She looked out the window at the graves in the garden. She couldn’t understand why she wanted to cry.

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Notes:

1. Written on the 7th and 8th of May, 2021

__________

Support An Accumulation Of Things

If you like the things you've read here please consider subscribing to my patreon or my ko-fi.

Patreon subscribers get not just early access to content and also the occasional gift, but also my eternal gratitude. Which I'm not sure is very useful, but is certainly very real.

(Ko-fi contributors probably only get the gratitude I'm afraid, but please get in touch if you want more).

Thank you!