Written by Dice

N.B This short piece was written on behalf of the author’s recurring writer’s block. 

“A tale, a tale write, a tale to write?” cried the Swedish lady. Why is she Swedish? Who knows? They felt it to be right.

Should she not speak in Swedish? På svenska hon ska tala. An English-speaking community this is, to write ‘In Swedish she should speak,’ would achieve little but to confuse them as they attempt the pronunciation. And maybe now they would learn it and sound… uncool at school.

“A tale to write?” enquired the balding fellow, with the LIMP, pronounced L-imp. “Why a tale to write?”

“I feel that I must, since it is my hobby and my joy.”

“Then write dear lady, if you are indeed expensive.”

“I would, but for my life I fear that I have that dreaded thing that I cannot name.”

“Name it blonde woman, name it, you must not fear what’s in the name. Name it quickly as the backing music is becoming more sinister, and the room has become colder.”

A convenient breeze passes through causing the man, woman, and the scurrying shrew to shudder as the pitch from the violins increase.

“I can’t name it, to name it would be to admit it!”

The woman shrieked in horror and placed her white-gloved hand upon her reddening cheek. A strange action to take, but less strange when you considered the balding man with the big, strong, firm, and attractive belt had slapped the blue-eyed lady with his moisturised hand. Continue reading →