Blog Archives

Vectors

29/7/2014

This story should explain a great deal about me.

If you can recall your school mathematics lessons, 'vectors' are distances to which direction has been applied. Their practical use really only dates from the mid-eighteenth century, but they're known as 'Euclidean' vectors because it was the ancient Greek mathematician Euclid who first spotted their importance.

A keen runner, he ran in the 10,000 metres finals at the 272BC Olympics. Trailing in a distant ninth, Euclid suddenly realised that after a great deal of effort running 25 laps, he was simply back where he'd started.

Euclid thus proved it was more efficient to be a couch potato than a runner.

Dumped

25/7/2014

So this is what it's come to after all these years?

Don't you remember? I was there when you cried yourself to sleep at night. I caressed your body when you needed my touch; I could be firm if you needed me to be, or I could be soft and warm. You and I have shared the most intimate moments. I've supported you through thick and thin.

Yet now you've dumped me out in the street alone, thrown over for another that's taken your fancy.

I hope your new mattress is vile. In fact I hope it comes with bedbugs.

Pride and Prejudice 'N A Single Deep-Fried Mars Bar, A' Wi' Salt 'n Vinegar, Please

20/7/2014

Bingley and Darcy swanned in lookin' fur lumber. Bingley got aff wi' Jane Bennett; Lizzie telt Darcy tae awa'n bile his heid. Yon Bennet lassies, mind, were ootae control. But Darcy 'n Lizzie? Ach, wan wis as bad as the ither. Meanwhile Collins, who'd bag off wi' onythin in skirts, ended up wi Charlotte.

Onywise, they a' skirled aboot dancin' awhile, there wis sum stuff wi' Lydia and a nyaff ca'd Wickham so Darcy paid them tae get married. Lizzie was fair cowpit, married Darcy and ended in yon big hoose!

In Scotland there'd have been a pagger fur sure.

The Most Remarkable Story Ever

18/7/2014

What a story! Grabbing the reader's attention at the outset, it surged through a powerful middle section and culminated in a stunning climax few could have foreseen. Stylishly written, with excellent character portrayal, such was its strength that any who read it would be so overcome that they would immediately seek peace with fellow men (and women). Crucially, it was exactly one hundred words long, qualifying it for LinkedIn's Friday Flash Fiction discussion. It was, in short, the greatest story ever.

The only problem was that every time anyone looked at it, the story simply disappeared. Did it ever exist?

Pride And Prejudice, Finger-Lickin' Style

18/7/2014

©CBS, from "The Wild, Wild West"

I remember the day Bingley and the Darcy guy hit town like it were yesterday. Bingley was looking for chicks; the Darcy guy was harder to read. Soon they'd landed with the Bennet girls, although neither Ol' Man Bennet nor his wife had any swing with their daughters.

Anyway, Bingley and the eldest girl Jane hung out, but the next one, called Lizzie, was tougher. Hot with a Winchester. But Darcy pulled her; Lizzie picked up a bad apple in that guy Wickham and Darcy rode to the rescue.

These days Darcy and Lizzie live on that big ranch Pemberley.

The Beginnings Of Golf

17/7/2014

The discovery that dinosaurs played golf rocked the world of paleantology to its very core.

Scientists believe that golf became popular in the Jurassic era. Clubs were made of bone; balls were mostly fashioned from lava, although meteorite-balls were all the rage amongst the velociraptor jet-set. Courses rarely featured water, desert was common; almost all championship golf took place near erupting volcanos. Dinosaur golf was dominated by "The Big Three": Diplodocus, Brachiosaurus, and – of course – Tyrannosaurus.

Sadly, a catastrophic event – perhaps an asteroid – wiped out all golfing dinosaurs. Nowadays, we only know they existed from fossils found in old clubhouses.

The Supreme Court Rules

16/7/2014

The garden game quickly descended into a squabble about the rules. Minutes later, Mom was there to sort it out.

"He cheated!" the girl said.

"That true?" Mom asked.

"'Plead the 5th," the boy said.

"He's a dirty low-down cheat!" the girl said.

Mom said, "Don't speak like – "

"I'll say what I like: 1st Amendment." Bear in mind these two kids are six and four.

"Well," said Mom, "Mrs Walker's phoned to complain – "

"That old witch!" the kids said in unison.

That did it. They were over her knee in no time: a cruel but not unusual punishment.

Monster Watch

16/7/2014

This story was vaguely inspired by a contributor to the LinkedIn discussion.

She only surfaces every now and again. Her main food, sea-haggis, has one fin shorter than the other, forcing it to swim in ever-decreasing circles. Easy prey, even for a giant but clumsy sea-serpent.

Tourists, particularly Americans and Japanese, travel from all points of the compass to see her, calling from the shore in the hope that she'll appear conveniently for their smartphone selfies. She never will, though. Only one little boy, a local, knows her name is really 'Eva-Ann', and she comes to him, when he's alone, at dusk.

She might live in Loch Ness, but "Nessie" she ain't.

Murder In Sinai

11/7/2014

Source: Deviant Art

With the rain off and the Ark berthed on Mount Ararat, Noah counted animals off: dogs, cats, snakes, lions, ocelots, meerkats...

No mammoths.

Noah panicked when two dead mammoths were discovered in their cabin five minutes later. Shot, then skinned – their coats had vanished. "Call the animal detectives!" he cried.

"Please to help?" a little man with a waxed moustache asked in a French accent. (It later transpired he was Belgian.) Quickly, he gathered the suspects on the bridge, solved the crime, extracted a confession. Probably hypnosis.

Turned out it was the sheep. "We were feeling chilly," they said... sheepishly.

The Old Crone

5/7/2014

She was a sad case.

Perhaps she'd outlived her time, for her sole remaining joy seemed to lie in criticising others.

Sometimes, she wrote letters to her neighbours detailing their faults: anonymously, naturally, but everyone in the community knew who'd sent them. If chided, she claimed she was "only joking", but no-one was fooled. Once, she'd have been a candidate for the ducking-stool; these days townsfolk just spoke about her behind her back.

She died alone, her body lying undiscovered for several days before anyone noticed.

Pity, really: she wasn't all bad, she just went off-colour towards her life's end.

Dissident

5/7/2014

Refused permission by the authorities to write in his native language, the dissident decided to mark his opposition in two ways. Firstly, he published his latest story in picture-form: a piece of flash fiction expressed as a strip cartoon, the only words being those found in billboard signs, newspaper headlines and so on. Secondly, he posted a 'real' hundred-word story on the a website he himself had created. Those who wanted to read it would know where to find it.

The effect was electric: the story went viral, until one day there was a knock on his apartment front door.

Fireworks

5/7/2014

They weren't American, just setting off fireworks for Independence Day as a rehearsal for Scottish Independence Day. Hamish's home-made superpowered rocket – powered by cordite, haggis and Irn-Bru – was ready for testing, strapped to his back.

Despite the rain, they lit roman candles, catherine wheels and sparklers, then Hamish's girlfriend Morag lit the rocket's fuse. Hamish rose just six feet, then fell unceremoniously on his rear.

"Blame the rain, Hamish. You got airborne at least," said Morag, "I saw what you were wearing under your kilt. Or weren't. Bit of a damp squib, though, wasn't it?"

Hamish laughed: one-nil to Morag.

A Boolin' Club, Somewhere In Fife

2/7/2014

Effie and Ina are playing in Milnathort Bowling Club's pairs championship against Morag and some foreigner called Jane, "frae the Birders." It's Ina's turn.

"Aw, Ina," calls Effie, "yer affy narra'." Ina hasn't allowed enough for the bowl's weighted bias, and it sails uselessly away wide of its mark.

Effie tries to be encouraging. "Dinnae dae that fir yer next wid, ye daft besom. Summit decent noo wi' yon final yin."

Ina's final bowl's a disaster. Flustered, she sends it off wrongly altogether. As it wobbles its way up towards the head, Effie wails, "Ach, Ina, it's awa' kerfluey."

(Translation available on request.)

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