“Do you think I can do this?” “Why not?” “It’s a bit scary, and I’ve never used a mic.” “Never?” “Nope.” “Well, you can have a go. It’ll be fine. Trust me!”
“Hmm, I’m thinking about it. Let me look at all those wonderful books.”
“Ooh, I have got this… and this… and this as well.” “Look, we’re in this one together.” “It’s that anthology.” “Great book… all those poetry people.” “And almost all around the world.”
“Anyway, that was fun, but now I have to dash.” “So you aren’t going to do this?” “What shall I say? Later, perhaps?”
~~~
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers Genre: The Truth and Nothing but the Truth Word Count: 100
The red-headed writer (aka la Raconteuse) was feeling rather off-kilter since that odd room, called Room 215, was still bugging her, she had notice that it said it was only for Proprietors on the door, but clearly she had seen other people inside, likeFrank, for example, so that didn’t seem correct.
La Raconteuse had dithered for a bit, wondering what she should do with that small card that she had got, it said, “Get out of jail, it’s free”, but in the end she managed to poke it under the door, maybe Moxie might decide to come into the hallway?
But little Moxie had been adamant to stay in those areas around the Room 215, and the last thing la Raconteuse heard was Moxie running with a little pink kite.
Heaving a small sigh, la Raconteuse held her big bag tightly as she had a last look at that door, but then she thought she should not go any further along the hallway to the back, but rather she should go to the Six-Sentence-Café-and-Bistro.
She was walking quite quickly now, but she stopped to see if the tall, thin man was around in the Manager’s Office, but no-one was there; but then she saw a young pretty woman who was about to go into the bathroom.
She had stopped just before opening the door, as she took one shoe off then rubbed her foot; she was wearing kitten heel shoes and it was clear that one of them pinched.
It’s not a prison now, but it was a kind of prison in the past.
I was only a kid, and I had been eavesdropping, but this time this was something more important. Dad and granddad had been talking quite quietly, but their voices became louder. I couldn’t understand what they said. It didn’t make sense to me.
I’d mostly forgotten about all of this, but something triggered in my head. And that’s why I’m waiting here. There’s a ledger, and I’m almost sure I will find her. She’s called Mary, and she was a fallen woman, my great aunt.
~~~
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers Genre: Historical Fiction Word Count: 100
“Come on,” said the red-headed writer (aka la Raconteuse), “please can we go back to the Room 215,” as the two of them sat in the usual dumbwaiter, “it’s all very well for you, dear Moxie, but for me, it’s very cramped in here, and by the way, what’s the large red balloon doing in there as well?”
“Good question,” grinned Moxie, as she began to let down the rope, while glancing at the bright red balloon, “you know, I’ve no idea, but I expect we’ll find out, and soon,” as Moxie tied up the rope and opened the dumbwaiter.
So, la Raconteuse retrieved her big bag by the floor, and her smartphone and charger by the shelf next to the clockwork contraption, then looked around the Room 215, “excellent,” she said and smiled, “let’s open the door and make our way back to the Café and Bistro, I’m missing all my friends.”
“Not me though,” said Moxie, “I’m not able to leave those various rooms – you know, the almost sky up there, the red room and the blue room, and here, of course,” as she jumped to the floor by the four-foot bellhop, “I wouldn’t even dare to go out there.”
The four-foot bellhop then offered a note to la Raconteuse, as the bright red balloon hovered by him, as a couple of rather small animals, some kind of deer, also appeared.
“Mad, and mad,” muttered la Raconteuse, as she read the note: Get out of jail, it’s free.
“Look. There’s a spaceship up there.” “How exciting!” “Will it come down?” “I do hope so. We have been here for too long.” They stood completely still while the smaller hoomans moved around and then they moved on.
Then several tiny Martian guys join them. “Will they see us?” “We can only hope.” “Do you think they will wait for us?” “Do they even know that we are here?”
“Okay, back to the top, I say.” And so they did. And it did go dark. And the tiny spacecraft appeared again… and then hovered.
“Yay, we’re going to go home…”
~~~
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers Genre: Sci-fi Word Count: 100
“It’s all very well,” muttered the red-headed writer (aka la Raconteuse), as she continued to stare at the wonderful vista for a while, then turned to little Moxie, and said, “it’s not real, is it… there’s no ocean by the roof top garden, it can’t be that.”
“Aha, you’re right,” as Moxie began to do a couple of pirouettes, then said: “I’ll show you another place instead; we’ll go back to the usual dumbwaiter, I just need to find a particular vestibule, and then we’ll walk to a larger room, it’s called The Blue Room.”
So, la Raconteuse did as she was told, although she was almost desperate to get her big bag back, since she needed to write all these strange things down.
“Here we are, we’ve made it,” grinned Moxie, “you’re going to like this immensely… come on, you can look at all these excellent objects and even people and animals; and I’m going to run a quick victory lap to show how happy I am.”
It was alluring and also weird – there were three fat ladies who would dance with a moment’s notice, lifting up their thunder thighs and doing their can-can several times; then further over la Raconteuse saw a huge snake, and said, “wow, that looks dangerous?” – “nah, that’s Daisy,” grinned Moxie, “she’s a pussy cat, and not venomous, by the way.”
“All very interesting,” said la Raconteuse to Moxie, “but I really want to go back to Room 215, and kind of now.”
“I’ll race you,” grinned one of the boys. “That will be fun,” said the other. So off they went on their bikes along the scrubby lane. It was almost neck and neck when they both stopped, and rather suddenly.
“Such a small straight track.” “Let’s go that way.” So the two of them made their way across the field. They had only a tiny squabble as they decided who would go first. And off they went.
A bit later they both stopped. “Gosh, it was further than we thought.” “Still this small forest seems excellent.” “I wonder what we’ll find?” “The highest part is over there.” “It will be dense and quite dark too.” “And that’s what we like.”
So off they went. And they had a great time. They hoped that they would find a couple of unicorns, and it could have been. A small sighting, they both thought.
“I don’t know what those things are called, do I? I’m not a gardener. No, definitely not. I mean it looks okay, although some veg is more productive, as long as it’s something I like. You know, like toms, they are nice. I’m not keen on the green stuff though.”
“Are you talking to yourself?” “What, me?” “Yes, you!”
“Well, I suppose so… and what’s wrong with that?” “Nothing, I guess.”
(silence)
“Are you a little lonely, perhaps?” “No.” “Really?” “No.”
(silence)
“Look, I’m busy. Okay?
“You don’t want to tell me what you’re doing?”
(muttering)
“Alright, I’ll tell you…”
~~~
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers Genre: Memoir Word Count: 100
“So who’s overseeing this place now, eh?” muttered the red-headed writer (aka la Raconteuse) since it was now rather busy in the Room 215, as she looked across to the tall, thin man, then to that small strange four-foot bellhop, all so known as a dumbwaiter, and then to the sweet sprite; plustwo made-up people who had just arrived from the closet and now were sitting at two rather nice wingback armchairs.
“Aha, Frank, how lovely to see you,” grinned la Raconteuse, “it’s definitely a crowd now; but, sorry, it seems that I need to follow that little sprite, and I must remember she’s called Moxie, not Honeybun, it seems that she has a plan for me.”
“Come on, be quick,” said Moxie to la Raconteuse, as she pointed to that wonderful clockwork machine, “see, the time… the six bells by the owls will chime very noisily.”
Moxie jumped across several shelves, then scampered down to the floor, while la Raconteuse watched her, then both of them looked at each other, grinned, then stepped across to the closet, since it was free at that time.
La Raconteuse pouted and said: “I have to get into that contraption… really?” – “you can definitely do this,” said Moxie, as she jumped up; “I’m pulling it down again, and all you need to do is sit in it, since it’s a dumbwaiter, and the usual kind.”
So both went up, “what a vista,’ grinned la Raconteuse, “I can see the ocean from here!”
“We’d love to go with you,” said the two boys. “Okay, pop in,” grinned Uncle Bill. “My Land Rover is ancient but still fine,” as he lurched off onto the road.
“Where are we going,” asked one of the boys. “Aha,” said he, “you’re going to like this, it’s right by the Fens. I’m going to drop you off for a while.”
Then one of the boys said: “We’re getting pretty close to that wonderful windmill, is it this?” “It is,” as Uncle Bill pulled up. “You can poke around there, although it’s a shame you can’t go in. I’ll be about an hour,” and off he went.
The two of them had some fun, and even better, an old guy happened to be there, letting them in, and very interesting it was. Then Uncle Bill was back with some pies and ice creams, and not necessarily in that order!
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