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Crumbs.
I left the flat thinking this is it, I am never going back, not this time. My leather trousers had tightened with the years and my hair was no longer my own, but as I squeaked past the entrance mirror I caught the reflection of a man in his prime, a full man, a man who had lived life, atop his pie hole sat a startling moustache and within it danced the crumbs of life's meal, small bits of carrot, pastry flakes and some sauce.
Life had treated me well, I had eaten from it's trough with gusto and an open mouth, with teeth.
But it was time to move on.
The end.
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The Bird.
Run as I may I could not shake the bird, with every change in direction I made it kept me within it's sight, seeming to know ahead of time where my beautiful hurried legs would carry me. With each sharp twist and turn I heard it skid in the air as it tracked me like a badge fixed to the lapel on a man's jacket.
I swung into a doorway and for a moment I had lost the bird, I watched as it overshot and flew past looking for me, I laughed, it heard me, it laughed too, we were only mucking around.
The end.
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The Robot and the Clown.
The robot turned it's inexpensive head towards Tony, "What is love ?" it asked. Tony was still painting his face with waxy paint and eyeliner, his gaze fixed on his reflection in the mirror, "Not now Stan, can we do this later".
The robot repeated the question, "What is love ?" it asked in a kind of detached electronic tone, a little like how you would imagine a calculator might speak.
Tony, now completely covered in bright coloured face paint, took his gaze from the mirror and turned towards Stan, "Don't make me switch you off, you know how you hate that".
"This is true" replied the robot, his thwarted question adding to the massive resentment that had built up between them after Tony had tried to rape him one night.
The end.
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Cant see a story anywhere..
All will be revealed tomorrow afternoon, unless Urban Velo were April Foolin':
Banjo Brothers Micro-Fiction Twitter
You may be asking, “WTF is micro-fiction?”
Banjo Brothers plans to release a piece of cycling-themed fiction, by Minneapolis writer Ian Pratt through its Twitter feed on April 2, 2009. The fictional story, which takes place in Minneapolis, will be released in 16 installments of 140 characters each, starting at 8:00am and concluding at 4:00pm.
Visit twitter.com/banjobrothers to follow.
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This has got to be fiction: Soma Rush to Go ‘Full Monty’ with Removable Decals
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The Robot and the Clown.
The robot turned it's inexpensive head towards Tony, "What is love ?" it asked. Tony was still painting his face with waxy paint and eyeliner, his gaze fixed on his reflection in the mirror, "Not now Stan, can we do this later".
The robot repeated the question, "What is love ?" it asked in a kind of detached electronic tone, a little like how you would imagine a calculator might speak.
Tony, now completely covered in bright coloured face paint, took his gaze from the mirror and turned towards Stan, "Don't make me switch you off, you know how you hate that".
"This is true" replied the robot, his thwarted question adding to the massive resentment that had built up between them after Tony had tried to rape him one night.
The end.
Bit long winded for me and I was bored halfway through ;o))
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I've always found it very daft that people should see fit to publish short fragments of text, dashed off on the spur of the moment, on-line, trying to hold people's attention, on topics that they find of concern, inviting responses and entering into a dialogue with others. It's a totally bizarre thing to do, really.
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Bit long winded for me and I was bored halfway through ;o))
The Cloud.
I jumped up to get it having no sense of scale, I got it, it turned out to be some fluff just in front of my eye and not a cloud.
I laughed, the fluff laughed back, we had a right old ding dong down the pub about it all.
The end.
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The Cloud.
I jumped up to get it having no sense of scale, I got it, it turned out to be some fluff just in front of my eye and not a cloud.
I laughed, the fluff laughed back, we had a right old ding dong down the pub about it all.
The end.
Thats better, you have mentioned pub and have enthralled me totally. If you could just write about pub, burgers and Thursday then I may be tempted again.
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Ok, yeah, it is but its mixed in with other posts! This is it in non-twitter form. http://www.banjobrothers.com/blog/?blog_id=15
DFP
tynan
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Oliver Schick
bq
Platini
VanUden-
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Is micro-fiction daft?
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I mean ffs whose gonna wanna read a fictional 16-chapter cycling-based story whose chapters are 140 characters long? I might check it out just because its a novelty to me, but still, wtf, ffs.