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Wednesday, 22 September 2010

Flash Fiction Challenge - Week Eight Winner

The entries for week nine of the flash fiction challenge will be up for voting later this morning on our blog

The winner of Week Eight of the Flash Fiction Challenge is the
amazing Paul Freeman and his entry Two Men, a Sliced Pan and a Pondful of Ducks. Congratulations Paul – excellent work!

Paul Freeman


About the Author

Paul Freeman lives in Dublin Ireland. He remembers the first time he wrote
anything of worth, he was nineteen and sheltering from the rain in a tent
while on a camping trip with some friends in a place called Glendalough, a
very picturesque corner of Ireland. He showed it to his girlfriend of the
time and she burst into tears. He thinks that was a good sign.
You can read extracts from his novel, TAXI, on Authonomy.

THE WINNING STORY

Two Men A Sliced Pan And A Pond Full Of Ducks by Paul Freeman

“Wank!”
“Huh?”
“Bollocks, tits, fuck and wankity wank wank!”
“Ye wha’?”
“She only bleedin’ left me, so she did.”
“Who?”
“Who do ye think?”
“Susan?”
“No, Princess fucking Margaret. Of course bloody, Susan.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? Is that it?”
“Ye’ll be stuck for yer hole now.”
“You’re lookin’ fer a slap, you are. Susan means more to me than a convenient ride, she’s the love of my life, me soul mate, the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
“All the same, ye’ll still miss yer hole… Ow! What’s that for?”
“I told ye, ye’d get a slap. See them swans out there, glidin’ around all graceful ‘n all? They mate for life so they do and when one dies the other one pines for years, wouldn’t look at another swan.”
“I’d love to be a swan.”
“Ye wha’?”
“I’d love to be a swan, just floatin’ around in the water all day, nothin’ to do but float. Oh look! There’s a fishie, homp… gobble gobble. Oh look, another fishie… Ow! Stop bleedin’ hittin’ me.”
“She said she still loves me but doesn’t want to spend the rest of her life with a bloke who spends all day in the park drinkin’ cider and feedin’ the ducks.”
“What’s wrong with that? We do that.”
“That’s my point. Are ye not listenin’? In fairness to her, we are a right pair o’ bleedin wasters. In fact if there’s a bigger pair o’ wasters on the planet I’d like to meet ‘em.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Why?”
“Why what?
“Why’d ye like to meet ‘em?”
“Dunno.”
“Jaysus! Yer me penance so ye are. Good God almighty put you on this Earth to punish me. I musta bein’ a right bollocks in a previous life to get saddled with you.”
“So, now that Susan’s single, do ye think she’d be lookin’ fer her hole?”
“What you? Are ye fuckin’ nuts? That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all day. You? Would ye get up the yard for fuck sake.”
“Ah Jaysus, I haven’t had a ride in-in…I can’t remember the last time I had a ride.”
“Well, ye wont be getting’ it off a Susan.”
“Why’d ye suppose ye can’t eat swans?”
“Dunno, maybe they’re poison or somethin’. Probably some poor fucker had one for his tea back in the fifties or somethin’ and got poisoned to death.”
“Wonder what it tastes like.”
“Swan?”
“Yeah.”
“Fucked if I know. Maybe I should get a job, smarten meself up a bit.”
“What would ye do? Sure ye can’t do nothin’ ‘cept feed the ducks. Not many o’ them jobs goin’. And if there was they wouldn’t give it to you.”
“Dunno, I could be a barman.”
“And get paid in pints! That’s a rapid idea.”
“Maybe I could write a book.”
“A book? About what, ye fuckin’ eegit. What would you know about writin’ a book. Jaysus, ye can barely write yer own name.”
“I dunno, about two blokes sittin’ in a park feedin’ the ducks.”
“Hah! That’s the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard. No wonder Susan ditched ye.”
“Yeah, go on then pass the bread, them ducks aint gonna feed the’selves.”

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