Tales of humour, whimsy and courgettes
“It’s the food in the hospital I hate,” sighed Whisp.
“I had a bad reaction to hospital food once,” said Serpent.
“Ah,” said Red, “I once ate a film strip instead of a tablet.”
Serpent raised an eyebrow.
“I had to wait and see if anything developed,” said Red.
~
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He ran the blade across his face. Stubble was always an issue for him. He couldn’t remember ever having an entirely smooth face.
The mist in the mirror began to fade. He reached up and gave it a wipe with a dry towel.
He dropped his razor into the sink. His reflection grinned with a flicker of red in its eye.
Today was the day.
~
The image for this post was lost thanks to the spectacular WordPress 5.0 update explosion that knackered this website. Sorry.
“What about you Aqua?” asked Black Fish, “any visits to the doctor?”
“I once thought I was God,” whispered Aqua.
“When did that start?” croaked Black Fish.
“Oh, you know,” muttered Aqua, “when I created the sun, then the earth…”
~
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“I saw a doctor the other week because I thought I was a bridge,” said Whisp.
“Oh aye,” replied Yuffie.
“He said ‘good grief, man what’s come over you?'” said Whisp.
“Oh God,” said Yuffie.
“I said two cars, a truck and a coach,” grinned Whisp.
~
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“I think you should ask the doctor for a second opinion,” said Cloud.
“I did,” replied Sprite.
“What did he say?” asked Cloud.
“Come back tomorrow,” sighed Sprite.
~
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“Of course,” said Glen, climbing out of the chest.
He looked at the diminutive form. This child with such a sweet smile, pale skin, red lips, and a voice so sharp it could cut steel.
“Shall we play again?” asked the child.
Glen nodded. “Yes, lets.”
Well, what else could he do?
“My doctor was hopeless,” moaned Sprite.
“Why so?” asked Black Fish.
“I went to him because I had wind,” said Sprite.
“And?” asked Black Fish.
“He gave me a kite,” sighed Sprite.
~
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“I went to a psychiatrist once,” said Bush.
“Why’s that?” asked Shrub.
“Because I thought I was a dog,” said Bush.
“What happened?” asked Shrub.
“Well I got there, and she told me to sit on the couch so we could talk about it,” said Bush. “I said I couldn’t because I wasn’t allowed on the furniture…”
~
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“I think I’m developing a drinking problem,” said Snake.
“Oh aye?” asked Grass.
“Do you drink a lot?” asked Sky.
“No,” sighed Snake. “I spill most of it. That’s the problem!”
~
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Butcher slammed his cleaver into the board.
“I understand,” he rasped. “I was never meant to see inside.”
Deliveryman nodded. “Well, I’m sorry you did.”
Butcher handed Deliveryman the scissors.
Deliveryman grinned. Tongue on sale tomorrow.
~
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Little Fears 