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Here are some words. Something I thought of the other day. I'm thinking of incorporating it into the novel I'm writting.
"I walked down the street. It was strange, walking down this road for the first time in months, so much had changed since my accident. Everything seemed different, and yet I couldn't put my finger on one specific thing. Maybe it was just the changing of the seasons.
As I walked a microphone was thrust into my face. "Excuse me Sir, how would you like to eard £50 right now?" Asked the strange looking man holding the microphone. I assumed that he was a radio DJ, nobody would put him on TV, and I guessed that he was about to ask me which radio station I listened to. "Sure" I said, as I scanned the area, looking for a clue as to which station this oddball could have been from.
"Okay then sir" he said, "to get your £50, you've got to beat me in a fight, right now!" said the oddball, before thrusting his fist hard into my stomach. I bent over, winded by the sudden blow. I looked up, he had a twisted smile on his face. He raised his fists, with the intention of bashing me on top of the head. I couldn't let him do that, so I swung my fist hard from my bent "position, and caught him right between the legs. He howled in pain, clutching his groin. I pushed him to the ground, and gave him a kick, and he started smiling again.
I turned to walk away, but he called be back, "Sir, don't forget your £50!" I looked back at him. He was on his feet again now, and was approaching me with a wad of cash in his hand. "There you go Sir, well done!" He said, handing me the cash, as well as a 'Space 104.9 FM' car sticker.
I pocketed the cash and walked away, rubbing my head. What was going on here?"
"I walked down the street. It was strange, walking down this road for the first time in months, so much had changed since my accident. Everything seemed different, and yet I couldn't put my finger on one specific thing. Maybe it was just the changing of the seasons.
As I walked a microphone was thrust into my face. "Excuse me Sir, how would you like to eard £50 right now?" Asked the strange looking man holding the microphone. I assumed that he was a radio DJ, nobody would put him on TV, and I guessed that he was about to ask me which radio station I listened to. "Sure" I said, as I scanned the area, looking for a clue as to which station this oddball could have been from.
"Okay then sir" he said, "to get your £50, you've got to beat me in a fight, right now!" said the oddball, before thrusting his fist hard into my stomach. I bent over, winded by the sudden blow. I looked up, he had a twisted smile on his face. He raised his fists, with the intention of bashing me on top of the head. I couldn't let him do that, so I swung my fist hard from my bent "position, and caught him right between the legs. He howled in pain, clutching his groin. I pushed him to the ground, and gave him a kick, and he started smiling again.
I turned to walk away, but he called be back, "Sir, don't forget your £50!" I looked back at him. He was on his feet again now, and was approaching me with a wad of cash in his hand. "There you go Sir, well done!" He said, handing me the cash, as well as a 'Space 104.9 FM' car sticker.
I pocketed the cash and walked away, rubbing my head. What was going on here?"
Great. I allways wanted to know what 104.9 Fm was really called! Will there be a part 2? More on that next time!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Save the Scamps!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Save the Scamps!~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
strange.
Intriguing.
Tell us when it's on the shelves.
Tell us when it's on the shelves.
Gangsta Hamsta wrote:
Its good though - whats the
> title of the story thing?
Thanks.
The working title is "My Own Private Hell", but I'm not too far into it yet, writing down a few ideas, fleshing them out, and trying to build it into a first draft.
Its good though - whats the
> title of the story thing?
Thanks.
The working title is "My Own Private Hell", but I'm not too far into it yet, writing down a few ideas, fleshing them out, and trying to build it into a first draft.
LOL - some story thats gonna be! 50 squid for belting some guy in the crown jewels ain't bad. I thought he was gonna ask you to sell yourself or something but there we go. Just my twisted mind evidently!
Its good though - whats the title of the story thing?
Its good though - whats the title of the story thing?
That was me.
Here are some words. Something I thought of the other day. I'm thinking of incorporating it into the novel I'm writting.
"I walked down the street. It was strange, walking down this road for the first time in months, so much had changed since my accident. Everything seemed different, and yet I couldn't put my finger on one specific thing. Maybe it was just the changing of the seasons.
As I walked a microphone was thrust into my face. "Excuse me Sir, how would you like to eard £50 right now?" Asked the strange looking man holding the microphone. I assumed that he was a radio DJ, nobody would put him on TV, and I guessed that he was about to ask me which radio station I listened to. "Sure" I said, as I scanned the area, looking for a clue as to which station this oddball could have been from.
"Okay then sir" he said, "to get your £50, you've got to beat me in a fight, right now!" said the oddball, before thrusting his fist hard into my stomach. I bent over, winded by the sudden blow. I looked up, he had a twisted smile on his face. He raised his fists, with the intention of bashing me on top of the head. I couldn't let him do that, so I swung my fist hard from my bent "position, and caught him right between the legs. He howled in pain, clutching his groin. I pushed him to the ground, and gave him a kick, and he started smiling again.
I turned to walk away, but he called be back, "Sir, don't forget your £50!" I looked back at him. He was on his feet again now, and was approaching me with a wad of cash in his hand. "There you go Sir, well done!" He said, handing me the cash, as well as a 'Space 104.9 FM' car sticker.
I pocketed the cash and walked away, rubbing my head. What was going on here?"
"I walked down the street. It was strange, walking down this road for the first time in months, so much had changed since my accident. Everything seemed different, and yet I couldn't put my finger on one specific thing. Maybe it was just the changing of the seasons.
As I walked a microphone was thrust into my face. "Excuse me Sir, how would you like to eard £50 right now?" Asked the strange looking man holding the microphone. I assumed that he was a radio DJ, nobody would put him on TV, and I guessed that he was about to ask me which radio station I listened to. "Sure" I said, as I scanned the area, looking for a clue as to which station this oddball could have been from.
"Okay then sir" he said, "to get your £50, you've got to beat me in a fight, right now!" said the oddball, before thrusting his fist hard into my stomach. I bent over, winded by the sudden blow. I looked up, he had a twisted smile on his face. He raised his fists, with the intention of bashing me on top of the head. I couldn't let him do that, so I swung my fist hard from my bent "position, and caught him right between the legs. He howled in pain, clutching his groin. I pushed him to the ground, and gave him a kick, and he started smiling again.
I turned to walk away, but he called be back, "Sir, don't forget your £50!" I looked back at him. He was on his feet again now, and was approaching me with a wad of cash in his hand. "There you go Sir, well done!" He said, handing me the cash, as well as a 'Space 104.9 FM' car sticker.
I pocketed the cash and walked away, rubbing my head. What was going on here?"