Another brilliant short story from Tolleyscribes Tolleyscribes July meeting. Our meeting at the end of July in The Lighthouse, was primarily taken up with Christmas. Yes I know it is a long way off at the moment, but due to the success of our first publication, Words from The Lighthouse (still available), we have decided to produce a Christmas anthology. In order to get this ready for Christmas we need to write our submissions now. Our challenge for the end of August therefore is to write a short story and/or a poem about the season. Last month challenge was to write a short story including a list of several words that are not very much in daily use. The following story was submitted by Barry and uses all the words listed. Task: - Fit these words into an original composition – “ A lick and a promise : Agaric: Contraband: Billow: Mendacious: Quandary: Praxis: Stringent: Lunar: Serendipity: Zither: Demagogue. An Uncomfortable Night I was feeling terrible. Pains racked my body as I lay on my bed. Bouts of nausea swept over me, leeching my strength. I suspected my illness was an agaric reaction to the mushrooms, or whatever they were, I had eaten earlier. My room, in a small hotel, was lit by a bright gleam of lunar light, casting shadows that flickered and moved as the curtains billowed in, moved by the gusts of night winds, which also gave some welcome cooling. The gentle sounds of a zither drifted in from another apartment, the music helping me to relax between bouts of sickness and pain. A little earlier, I had tried to clean myself of the sweat and bile on my body, but I was too weak and a lick and a promise was all I could manage. I was in a quandary. Earlier, my story to the police was necessarily mendacious, as the contraband in my vehicle downstairs, was banned by the stringent laws of the country, but the items had not been discovered. I was now too ill to move far, but could not stay much longer. The police would be back. I slowly moved my legs from the bed, narrowly missing the reeking bowl on the floor. I gasped as pain ripped through my stomach when I made the first steps. As I moved away from the window, the clammy heat sent rivulets of sweat running down my body. I appeared to be melting. God, what a country. There was a TV on the wall. I switched it on, sat on the end of the bed and watched. To my surprise, I saw the man I had come to meet. The man who would pay for the illegal items in my vehicle. The camera showed him addressing a crowd, his words rousing them to action, his passions inflaming their passions as he put anti-government fire into their bellies. This demagogue was not the type of man I would normally deal with, but his money was good and necessary. These rabble-rousers were equally admired and despised. One man’s liberator is another man’s tyrant. It seemed the praxis to change the government every year, usually by force. As I watched, the screen showed a number of police vehicles suddenly arrive, troops piled out, and, after a scuffle, the man and his followers were arrested and bundled into the vehicles, which sped away. I was lucky, serendipity had ruled that I had switched on the TV just in time. The arrest could have been made during his meeting with me! Shame about the money, I would have to find another buyer. I could be next. I had to leave, but it was going to be a slow struggle as my body objected to moving. As I stood by the window to catch the breeze, the peace was shattered as three large black cars screeched to a halt, disgorging men in black uniforms who were running into the building. Was it my turn now? Barrie Deane Bye for now, love to see you in The Lighthouse on the second and last Thursday of each month at 7.45 pm. Regards Bill
Posted on: Mon, 12 Aug 2013 16:13:25 +0000
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