Story-time with the Four Bananas. (No.13)

Welcome everybody to this weeks story-time. I hope you're all having a great start to the week. My many thanks goes to my bananas as usual. Enjoy...

Miss October by C.S.Bailey

Back to the putrid stain that is home. Thoughts of my past carry me swiftly into the darkness once more. But I am determined to change, to end the killing and create a new life.

I find work at a meat factory. The stench of death is different yet familiar. Nevertheless, I continue on.

My supervisor Sarah is particularly non-constructive in her criticism of me.
Shouting in my face, that I’m not meeting my quota then suddenly like a familiar epiphany, I find a way to silence her.

Just bare that in mind, the next time you buy minced meat.

The Black Widow by Nav Logan

“They claim that I eat men for breakfast,”  she advised the young journalist in a predatory, haughty manner. “But that’s ridiculous. One needs to watch one’s figure!”

His eyes were entranced by her voluptuous curves, partially hidden beneath her low-cut gossamer gown. A heady perfume intoxicated the air as she lounged before him; a panther in repose.

Nervously, he scribbled shorthand and tried not to stare.

“Are you still a virgin, Mr Collins?” she challenged, her eyes locking with his as she rose.

“No!” he denied a little too loudly.

She licked her lips and prepared to devour him.

Road Kill by Bryan Thomas

BANG!

"Jesus Christ, what was that?" said Alan.

"I dunno," said Mark.

"I hit something, but I didn't see anything."

"Me neither."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Are you going to get out of the car and have a look?"

"It's your car, you get out."

"Yeah but--"

"But what?"

"It's pitch black out there and we're in the middle of nowhere."

"You're scared of the dark?"

"No. Well... yes, I am."

"Alright, (stay there,) I'll have a look."

Mark gets out of the car.

10 minutes pass.

Alan's trepidation increases.

BANG! - Mark's decapitated head slams into the windscreen.

"Sheeeeeit!" shouts Alan.

CASANOVA 60s STYLE by Rick Haynes

My jeans were Levis, my shirts Ben Sherman and my shoes highly polished. I was a 60s Mod, proud smart and driven. I was motivated by lust, as I desired some very expensive and hard to come by luxuries.

Girls!

They wore wonderful, easy access short dresses with buttons down the front; sometimes even mini-skirts. Yet my all male school education gave me no understanding of the fairer sex.

I bought them drinks. I danced with them. I complimented them. I tried everything to pull a bird, but all my attempts failed.

I was lost in self-pity.

My nickname?

Casa-Never!