On Saturday the 26th of May, Chris Matt and Myself played Shorter Stories for the first time. It was so invigorating that we immediately had a second round afterwards. These were the conditions:
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| Matt picked Pie(s), Chris picked The Moon, I picked Swimming. |
There was one thing that kept Ryan kicking, and one thing only: pies. The temptation to give up was paralysing. He had completely sapped himself of any strength. The arduous journey back and forth, and back and forth again underwater constricted every muscle in his body.
His enormous, greasy body wobbled with every painful stroke and kick. His ballooning stomach bounced back and forth, smacking against the lane ropes constantly. He wanted to give up and drown, and finally be relieved of the agony. But his mother’s promise of a chicken, cranberry and camembert pie after his swimming lesson somehow overpowered everything else. The pie’s delicious flaky texture and unspeakingly satisfying hot cheese consumed his mind and drove him onwards.
At the end of the hour the coach’s whistle blew and his body exploded like a gigantic moon constructed of camembert. He collapsed against the lane ropes, too tired to even force a smile. Everywhere he looked, his mind convinced him he was seeing the glory of freshly cooked pastry. He could almost smell the billows of steam erupting from the roaring bakery’s ovens.
“Pie time,” he managed to communicate with his numb lips to his mother, waiting with his towel.
Chris
The Moon was anxious. It had not been swimming for a long time. So long in fact, that the mere thought of backstroke sent its core into confused convulsions.
Today, however, was The Moon’s day. It was time to swim.
Swimming is a recreational/survival activity used to achieve fitness or escape from sharks. You should try it!
Gingerly, The Moon slipped on its bathing suit. The pastry glistened.
“I don’t know…” The Moon murmured.
Neptune pushed The Moon roughly.
“Way to go!” shouted Neptune. The Moon carefully removed the swimming pool cover. The pastry was hot, thick and pastry, the mince interior hot and dangerous.
“Should I really be swimming in this?” asked The Moon. “This pie is so big that it could be used for other things, for instance curing hunger on Earth, Mars and Pluto.”
“NO!” screamed Neptune. “You must swim, and swim you will!”
The Moon slipped into the dark substance, gulping loudly. Attempting a rudimentary doggy paddle, The Moon realised its mistake. It could not swim at all, especially in mince which is much harder to swim in than water. As The Moon slipped beneath the waves, drowning slowly, Neptune could be heard laughing.
“At last, I am The Moon, and I will not adhere to my duties at all! There will be no more tidal system for Planet Earth! Surfing begone!”
Regan
Johny McNickle had always been a big fan of pies. He would down one daily. However, this fact is completely irrelevant as these days Johny had turned his life around and was now the one and only transgender astronaut.
The year is 2072 and man/woman is once again on a mission to the moon. The world has come a long way in its acceptance of race, gender and height but hasn’t made it much further into space. Johny or as her friends affectionately call her Johnina is all set for the big day, blast off day. This day to a normal person wouldn’t have been anything special, as space is now such a common destination that people often go to space Macca’s on their lunch breaks. But what makes Johnina even more special is that he is from an Armish family who don’t believe in the use of space as a worldwide fast food destination. Johnina is breaking out, going against her parent’s wish and tomorrow is heading to Moon Macca’s…They say the taste of space in your face no matter what your race is like swimming in a sea of blood pudding but without the pudding.
The future is fucked up.
Matt
Other rounds here!!
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