I haven’t made up the day honestly. It’s real! Cos’ twitter just said so!
I’m not sure you would get a card in Hallmark to celebrate the day, but as a homage to the day I thought I’d post a couple of 60 second stories for you.
As part of the Imagine, Write, Inspire writers group we often do challenges to write a short flash fiction piece on a chosen topic, with an aim to keeping it close to 99words. They are fun to write, hope you enjoy.
Spaced, by Carmel Harrington
‘Your talking to a cow.’ Tom said to his wife.
‘Mabel is fierce interesting, she says we should keep away from the sheep. Sheep are bad.’ Rose replied.
‘sheep are evil.’ He concurred gravely.
‘I’m hungry. I could eat a horse.’ Rose declared. Somehow this statement seemed hilarious and they both fell to the ground in peels of laughter as Mabel the cow cocked her head to one side and watched the humans roll on the ground with uncontrollable glee.
They got up and ran back inside their farmhouse, attacking the plate of chocolate brownies ravenously.
Rose walked to the notice board and picked up a red marker, crossed out item 12 on her bucket list. ‘Get Stoned.’
‘I’m running out of time.’ Rose whispered.
‘No.’ Tom answered sharply, then more softly, ‘We’ll get to no.20, I promise.’
Crazy by Carmel Harrington
‘You crazy-assed bitch. I’m not your baby’s Daddy!’ John screamed at the woman in front of him. No way was he taking the rap for this. He’d never even slept with her.
All eyes in the small pub hungrily turned back to Annie Maguire, drifting to her swollen belly.‘New Years Eve John.’ Annie sneered rubbing her hand over her belly. ‘Everyone here saw how drunk you were. Shame on you though for not remembering.’
‘Its impossible I slept with you.’ John said through gritted teeth.
‘Prove it!’ Annie sneered, her eyes firmly on the prize of the rich farmer before her.
It was time. He was tired of the lies.
‘You picked the wrong guy to pin this on Annie, because I’m fucking gay.’
Writers Group by Carmel Harrington
‘You fucking bitch.’
A 100 heads spun 180degrees to see the face behind the voice.
‘I’m talking to you Mary Donohue.’
A 100 heads spun frantically back to the front of the bookshop, where Mary was frozen to the spot, her pen hovering mid-air, all thoughts of the book signing now forgotten.
Mary’s agent quickly ran towards the figure who was walking towards the author, menace in her every step.
‘That’s my story.’ She spat at Mary. ‘Every word I shared in our Writers Group copied in your novel. Mary Donohue, bestselling author, cheat and all round fucking bitch.’
And if you fancy any more flights of fancy, why not check out the recent flash fiction competition I ran on the blog. Some great stories here to brighten any day x
http://carmelharrington.com/category/2013-imagine-write-inspire-flash-fiction-competition/
