Welcome to the two hundred and seventy-eighth in this series that is ‘5pm Fiction’.
Late April 2011 I discovered StoryADay.org and the project that is to write 31 stories in 31 days. Anyone who knows me or follows this blog, knows how passionate I am about short stories so my clichéd eyes lit up at this new marvel. And just a few days later there I was, breathing life into new characters. This went on to become (with some editing of course) my 31-story collection eBook Story A Day May 2011. I have since published (as eBooks) the 2012 and 2013 collections, detailed on https://morgenbailey.wordpress.com/books-mine/short-stories/story-a-day-may.
I was nearing completion of the 2012 project when I decided that I didn’t want to stop at the end of May so 5PM Fiction was born. I put a load of prompts on the 5PM Fiction page and today’s was to write a monologue dialogue (no he said / she said) from the prompt of ‘If the cap fits’. Here is my 240-worder.
If The Cap Fits
“I just want to try on a couple more.”
“How often do we go shopping?”
“Every other weekend, you know that.”
“That’s not very often and it’s usually only for food. What’s the hurry anyway?”
“Marty’s coming over.”
“Marty? Who’s Marty?”
“Der! Don’t you listen to anything I say?”
“Sorry, Daisy. You know I have a terrible memory.”
“He’s my boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend? You’re only eight.”
“I’m nine, Granddad. I’ll be ten in January.”
“Nine, yes. Sorry, Daisy.”
“Right you are… What do you think? Daisy.”
“It’ll make you go blind.”
“Squinting at the letters on that tiny screen. Won’t do your eyes any good.”
“Granddad, I’m nine. I’m still growing.”
“Nearly ten. Yes, I know.”
“So, have you chosen yet?”
“Nearly. Is that Marty your messaging?”
“Texting. Yeah. Telling him we’re going to be late.”
“OK. I’ll go with this one.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“They’re for old fogies.”
“I’m nearly 90. I’m an old fogie.”
“Granddad. You’re the coolest octagonarian I know… apart from the hat.”
“It’s octogenarian, but thank you.”
“Get a baseball cap.”
“I don’t think they sell them here.”
“If Marty was here, he could tell you what to get. He’s eleven.”
“That settles it.”
“We’ll go home. Come back here in a fortnight.”
“They’ll still be hideous.”
“And you’ll still be… last one to the ice cream barrow pays!”
Photograph above courtesy of morguefile.com.
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