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Twisted Tales: Mr Parker

You know the big manhole cover, by the front door? I’ll lay her to rest there ~ John Reginald Christie Hello my lovelies. Slight change of plan this week...

You know the big manhole cover, by the front door? I’ll lay her to rest there ~ John Reginald Christie

Hello my lovelies. Slight change of plan this week – main reason being computer failure and resultant rage… I lost the draft of this week’s post along with 3,000 words of my novel, but not to worry, I am not *that* angry. I have not harmed any small animals.

This is one of the first stories I ever wrote. Well, not ever, ever. I’m sure I wrote stuff at school, but that was a long time ago. I read it out at an evening class and the rest of the class seemed to like it. Some of them even cried. It was written to a strict word count of 250 words, but I’ve added two now. So shoot me.

Anyway, hope you like it.

* * *

Mr Parker

Mr Parker picks up his mug of tea and pulls back the net curtain to peer outside. It’s 7.33 and Mr Jones from Number 12 is just reversing out. “He’ll be late now,” he says, “He usually leaves at 7.15.” The budgie chirrups in agreement. “He’ll be washing his car when he gets back.” says Mr Parker “He always does on a Tuesday.”

After a bath and a shave and a bit of “This Morning,” Mr Parker eats his usual breakfast and goes out the front to see if his paper is on the grass. “Hello!” he calls to Mrs Brown at Number 10. She slams her front door. He shakes his head; she’s still in her dressing gown at 11.30.

Out for his daily constitutional, he passes the kids from Number 8 playing on the street. No bloody mother about, as usual. And then there’s Miss Jackson from Number 5, heading to work in her blue overalls, puffing on a cigarette. Filthy girl, thinks Mr Parker, “Morning Miss Jackson!” he calls. She glares back through a fug of smoke.

Gloria will be wondering where he’s got to. She’s still in bed of course. Always is. He takes a cup of tea upstairs. She’s bolt upright and her glazed eyes appear to follow him as he crosses the room. Mr Parker picks up his well-thumbed book on Taxidermy and inhales the sweet stench of his inert wife. “Why does everyone on this street hate me?” he asks her.

No reply, as usual.

* * *

Short but sweet, eh? In a decaying, cloyingly sweet kind of way. So onto the mini novel update… I stopped at 40,000 words after I realised the last 3,000 weren’t really making a lot of sense. Yeah, I could’ve pushed on and done another 10,000 – but to be honest, I was pleased with where I got to. 50k is a big challenge for anyone in a month and I didn’t just want to write a load of garbage to make the word count. I still quite like where the novel is going, I just need a break before I pick it up again. Plus I started plotting another novel in my head as I wrote. That’s a very distracting habit of mine. I’ll post some more excerpts here soon.

If you want to read something else I wrote recently, have a look at My story ‘As Black as Snow’ starts on page 25. Believe it or not, it doesn’t have a happy ending…

Next week I’ll be bringing you a timely tale of woe featuring everyone’s worst nightmare: Christmas shopping.

So until next time, my lovelies… I wait patiently for your pokes and tweets. I like that sort of thing.