This week’s challenge is to write a story, limerick or poem on the subject of:
Friends
I’ve been away and so missed last week, but the previous week’s theme was running. Here are a couple of the poems you sent in:
Keith Channing sent in a very witty limerick:
Running as fast as a horse
Will often end up in remorse
I’ll tell you what’s worse
Try jesting in verse
Or try an on-line writing course!
Please welcome Jason A Muckley for the first time. He’s written a very atmospheric poem. Please visit his site to read it:
https://poemsforwarriors.wordpress.com/2018/08/09/purgatory-running/
Geoff Le Pard missed the TV challenge at the time, but I wanted to share his super story with you:
The Future Of TV
‘And… cut. Well done everyone. Take five and we’ll be back after the adverts.’
‘Harry, can I have a word.’
‘I’m a bit busy, Maureen. Can it wait?’
‘It’s just I was down by the screen, keeping the sweat off…’
‘I know, horrid job but we can’t afford the smears. Some aircon is on order…’
‘It’s not that. It’s the little girl. She’s seen us.’
‘Well, I hope so. Rather the point of watching TV, don’t you think?’
‘No I mean she’s seen us. You know, actually us. In here.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Maureen. You know humans have no understanding of we Wemans. They think they’re the only bipedal opposable-thumbed mammals on this planet capable of memory, emoting, reasoning and formalising hopeless voting structures. It’s the hiding in plain sight stratagem…’
‘Yes, Which is fine for your average suggestible adult but children haven’t been indoctrinated. I caught her looking in the side of the screen. I’m sure she saw me looking back…’
‘YOU MADE EYE CONTACT?’
‘No. Well, no exactly. More a mutual askance. Thing is she’s out there now, round the back trying to see inside.’
‘Where are her parents?’
‘Making tea. What…?’
‘People! Listen up, we have a situation. Jim, make ready with the Shortbox. Daphne, I need a public service tableau. Number four.’
‘What are you doing? We need to stop the girl.’
‘Maureen, watch and learn. We can hardly jump out and, what tie her down, tell her to behave, can we?’
‘No…’
‘So if we can’t stop her, who can?’
‘I don’t know? The Authority?’
‘Perlease. You know what they’d do? They’d have the set catch fire so the girl doesn’t get to see any TV. You want to be out of work?’
‘No….’
‘Ok. That’s why, when her folks come back with their tea, we’ll wait while the girl tells her folks. They’ll laugh and she’ll go and point out where she saw you. At that moment, Daphne’s troop will put on a playlet showing the dangers of letting children near the TV what with all the electrical charges held by the capacitors – it’s beautiful, the way the little girl dies of electrocution – so poignant. At the same time, Jim will set the Shortbox going. Now that’s spectacular, all sorts of bangs and fizzes and sparks. The parents will be horrified, assume it’s something that the little girl has done and the ‘little people’ inside the box will be forgotten. You go take a seat. We will be back to normal in 30 minutes.’
‘Gosh that’s clever.
‘Not really. Anyway, it’s a losing battle.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘We’ll soon have to find a new way of making ourselves useful. Flat screen TVs will make us redundant. Still there’s no reason to worry.’
‘No?’
‘Have you heard about AI? Those humans think they’ll have invented robots to look just like themselves in the next ten years. And guess who’ll be inside those metal carcasses?’
‘Goodness, I didn’t know.’
‘Yep, very hush hush. Though, word to the wise. If they make them exact replicas you might want to specialise, sooner than later. Stay away from anything to do with the bowels.’
***
Photo credit: pinterest
Esther Chilton 
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