Story-time with the Four Bananas + Guests. (No.25)

Well hello everybody. It's that time again. Like caped crusaders, we are here to execute the boredom. This week, we once again have the pleasure of being joined by D.S. Scott and J.P. Royan. Also you get two from me this week, they're both Christmas related so I'll get them out of the way. One of them won me an Amazon voucher. By the time you've read this, the kettle should have boiled, so make that tasty beverage and enjoy.

1st Day of Christmas by C.S. Bailey

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me …
One dismissive comment, one look of disdain, one flimsy excuse of her whereabouts and a stone cold tea in the microwave!
So on this cold winter’s day, I decided to follower her for answers. She was watched like a hawk as she boarded her bosses’ yacht. I saw the boat was rocking, I found it truly shocking and now she’s chopped into pieces and stuffed into her stocking.
So on the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me; that feeling of finally being free.

The Empty Sack by C.S. Bailey

It’s December twenty forth and little Matt is up past his bed time. He’s way too excited to sleep, cowering with excitement under his quilt waiting for Santa to arrive. 

Suddenly he starts to here shuffling coming from the other bedroom. “Santa is here!” He exclaims loudly. Jumping out of his bed, Matt tip-toe’s towards his mum and dads bedroom. 

Gently knocking on the door, he mutters “Santa?”

His mother comes to the door. “What’s the matter Matt? It’s late, you should be asleep.”

“I thought I heard Santa coming!”

“Oh, that was your father … now go to sleep.”

The Aristocrat- Part Two by Nav Logan

That was before war came, and Ireland, still under British rule, must send its bravest off  to die in France. The aristocrat’s life changed on that day in 1914 when war was declared. No longer did he live with a silver spoon in his mouth. He, like everyone else, must go and serve his country.

As always he was a natural leader, and therefore, he was the one selected for the fore of the procession down O’Connell Street, past all the buntings and banners, and down to the docks where the ferryboats waited for their long journey overseas to Flanders.


The Chicken and The Egg by Bryan Thomas

"I came first!" said the egg.
"Rubbish!" said the chicken.
"Without me you wouldn't exist," said the egg.
"No. Without me 'you' wouldn't exist," said the chicken.
A cockerel strutted into our fictitious scenario, stage right. "Without me 'neither of you' would exist," he said, puffing out his chest.
"Nonsense, I'm not having it," said the chicken.
"The point is you 'did' have it, sweetheart, and that's where junior here came from," said the cockerel, gesturing towards the egg.
The egg and the chicken pondered the cockerel's argument.
"Sorted!" said the cockerel, who knew a done deal when he saw one.

HIGH TIDE by Rick Haynes

Foamy waves crashed into the rocks, spewing forth seaweed and debris. The sailor, sole survivor from the wreck, nursed countless bruises as he pulled his worn out body to safety. Only god knew how he had survived when all of his shipmates had perished in the storm.
Settling himself under the cliffs, he took in the water mark. Once the tide turned he could crawl around the headland and home.
He closed his eyes.
A rumble like the sound of thunder caused him to search the dark skies, but all he saw was the rock face rushing to embrace him.

Gangrene by D.S. Scott

I let out a groan of pain. This gangrene’s killing me … literally. I got lost in the woods a week ago. I broke my foot five days ago and the damn bones are sticking out. Four days ago it got infected. Three days ago I got this fever and two days ago I ran out of food. I can’t walk, can’t take care of myself, can’t do anything. Yesterday ... let’s just say yesterday was worse. This fever’s been messing with my head today. At least I hope so because part of my foot’s gone and I can taste something rancid.

Crazy in love by J.P.Royan

Sat on the bench Clara watched David talking to his friend by the water fountain.

She couldn't remember being so in love and happy before. He's undoubtedly the one! Clara thought how her mother was going to love him too when they finally met for lunch at Franco’s.

Realising the time she waved to get his attention. He glanced over sheepishly but continued talking, his back to her now. Clara smiled rising from the bench. "He's a right chatterbox" she sighed.

Walking over Clara could hear the conversation over the fountain’s splashes. "Yes officer, she's been following me all day!"