a little story for you
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- unknown
wrote this shite ages ago, found it cleaning my mailbox:
Jam, Scones and Tower Bridge
As Jerry clambered his way up through the bracken he realised he was not alone, and soon enough with a few discreet glances it became clear that the distant figures were not just farmers or wandering ramblers but rather they were intent on their direction and seemed to be in a real hurry, Jerry was being followed.
Mrs Wiston loved to bake, especially on wintery afternoons such as today. Fruit scones were the order of the day, to be eaten later with jam, cream and a nice cup of tea...and another look over the jigsaw, not just any jigsaw I might add but an 8000 peicer of Tower Bridge. Mrs Wiston had never been to Tower bridge, never been to London infact, “full of noise and dirt, and some of the women...well!!” she’d say, trying to reassure herself that she was right to stay away from that place, though in the back of her mind she had always wanted to go, to run away from home like a teenager in search of adventure. Mrs Wiston wasn’t really cut out for adventure, she was more of a baking in the afternoon, jigsaw type person. Not like her late husband at all.
The cottage was remote, isolated in a watercolour wash of heather and gauze, the orange glow from the windows pierced the barren landscape with warmth, a symbol of shelter, a haven in the distance. If Jerry could get there surely help would be at hand, maybe the occupiers new where Aunt Audrey lived, maybe they were friends. The two men were much closer now, Jerry could make out their red faces sitting atop their barrel-like physique, and as he focussed he noticed the intense look in their eyes, they seemed to be controlled, spurred on by something, obsessive. What was it that drives these men? What do they want? Jerry had no money, no watch, he hadn’t done anything too bad recently, had he?? Just been looking at the books that had been passed on to his father from Jerry’s uncle. Jerry had found the book hidden in his dads shed under the heavy toolbox. Are they valuable? Jerry asked himself, maybe the men knew something of these books.
Jerry looked back and again saw the ice in their eyes, the cold blank glare. This chilled Jerry and spurred him on, he stepped up his pace and was soon at the cottage. Jerry stopped just by the gate, now doubting the safety of this cottage, wondering if it was a trap with more of these zombies inside. Too late now Jerry was at the door banging and shouting “Help! Help!” Mrs Wiston nearly jumped out of her skin, half a days jigsaw peicing on the floor. This better be important she muttered to herself. As she unlocked the door it burst open nearly knocking her over, Jerry tumbled past her and crumpled into a heap on the floor, he was up in a second and took a moment to register, “Aunt Audrey it’s you” he spurted “”of course it’s me young Jerry, and you nearly ruined my jigsaw with all this commo...’ “the men, they’re coming.. they’re eyes..” Jerry interrupted hysterically, Mrs Wiston looked over Jerry’s shoulder, out the front door and up the garden path, she saw the men alright, they were close now, she suddenly dashed upstairs andreached under the bed, Jerry had followed and wondered if she was going to hide but no, from under the bed she pulled her late husbands blunderbus, a fine weapon that had seen action all over Africa in it’s day, two shots of dispersed lead it would fire, and had been loaded since her husbands death nearly two years ago. She ran back down the stairs to find the men frantically rummaging through Jerry’s bag, they looked up blankly as she cocked the hammer then a huge crack of sound and cloud of smoke, the shot sent one of them flying back and out of the door, half his shoulder disintegrated from half an ounce of buckshot, then boom as her final shot was released, a blunderbus wont miss at point blank and literally wiped the stunned look off no. 2’s face.
Jerry could’nt believe what he saw, his old Aunt Audrey standing amidst the dying smoke, studying the two dead vagabonds slumped over each other on the front step, “Who are they Jerry and what did they want??” she asked and went down to look through Jerry’s bag “I have no idea Auntie, they were just following me and their eyes Auntie, so scary” Auntie pulled the books from Jerry’s bag and cast a glance at a sheepish looking Jerry, knowingly she read the titles of the books “Rancid Leper Whores Chew Mighty Cock”...”I left her Cunt Looking like a Puppy Dog Chewing Porridge”...After a short pause and a knowing look Aunt Audrey said “Men will do anything for this type of smut Jerry, you should never read it, your Uncle used to bring this filth back from London with him, you should never go there its full of noise and dirt, and the women...well!!”
“Now lets go get a scone and a cup of tea, and you can help me repair that damage to my jigsaw you little rascal!“
- chinaman0
not bad mate.nice ending.
- unknown0
based on a true story by the way
- clique0
Rasko, yer warped, but I like it.