The first five of these eight stories have prompt words that are newly added to the dictionary. Images are from Wikimedia.
HANGRY
“Table 3’s arguing,” said Em.
“Likely hangry.” The chef sniffed. “Our cuisine isn’t fast food.”
Em grinned. “Solid gold cutlery’s a clue.”
The row escalated. The maître d’ intervened. Sullen, the unfed diners left.
Clearing the table, Em stared. The cutlery was gone too.
FACEPALM
After the starship’s door opened, everyone gaped. Rather than tentacled monsters, scarlet columns glided down the ramp.
The leader asked a postbox, “Do they feed you well?”
Someone sniggered. “Stupid aliens.”
It was a real facepalm moment when the postbox replied.
MUNTED
Ah wiz munted when ah first saw the wee green men.
But they wiz still there when ah sobered up.
Now ah’m alone in ma cell, awaitin’ ma turn.
Ah wish ah wiz munted again.
DOWNLIGHT
Parched mouth. Aching all over. A groan. Eyelids flicker. A wince at the dazzling beam.
He mutters, “So there really is a bright light at the end.”
“Sure, party’s over now.” A hand draws the blanket over his face. “That downlight’s a bugger when it hits yer eyes.”
EVENTIDE
“This one’s promising. Eventide Nursing Home.”
“High turnover?”
“Nickname’s Departure Gate. Nobody’ll ask questions.”
Posing as fond relatives, they booked Granny in and paid for “special” options.
The manager removed her mirrors, ordered blackout blinds and shrugged.
RAPPORTEUR
“What’s up?”
“Surprise inspection.”
The keyboard clicked. “Uh-oh. Need to hide the dosh. Who’s a good fall guy?”
“Stick it in Jim’s account.”
“He deserves it.”
They were disappointed when nothing happened. Well, other than Jim and the rapporteur exchanging a smile.
ABOMINABLE
You serve my breakfast with no remorse over last night’s abominable behaviour, denying me your bed.
But maybe I’ll forgive you. Today’s our special day.
What? Kibble, not salmon?
I glare as your guest approaches.
The interloper speaks. “So cute! Had her long?”
ECLECTIC
A bell jangled. Piles of eclectic goods menaced me. “Hello?”
“What’s needed?”
I blinked at the looming figure. “I’m af—”
He held out a button identical to teddy’s missing eye.
I exhaled. I might survive. “Wow. How much—”
“I’ll be in touch.”
I frowned at the empty street.
(This particular teddy bear is of historical interest – and his home in Bletchley Park is worth a visit if you’re in the area).
Hope you’ve enjoyed these – I’ll be back in a week or two with more.
Speculative stories 