Offline - 15 years
sunhawk
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Hi, I'm a quiet shy wee lass from south england, so if I'm not too chatty it's not personal, honest. I love writing, bingo and beer, not always in that order either but I can multi task so I often combine them. Best of luck to all of you, win big...unless it's against me then only win small ![]()
For those curious about the thistle and Scots phrases I tend to use blame the parents. I always do, dont I 62audley![]()
short story section![]()
A Long Day Ian reeled the line in slowly. He’d been sat there, the main course for midges, for six hours with nothing but lumps to show for it. Until now. His rod arched as man and beast fought for dominance. “See. I told you that you’d love it. Looks like you’ve got a big one.” Marty said, ignoring his own idle rod to focus on Ian’s.“Get the net.” Ian snapped. One fish was not going to make up for a lost day, no matter how ruddy big it was.“What is it?” Marty asked, as with a Herculean effort Ian landed his catch.“ You’re the fisherman.”“It’s not a fish, I know that much. It’s a little irritated though.”“Irked. Not irritated, would you not be? There you are swimming along, minding your own pay attentions, when suddenly some fool in a stupid hat’s yanking you out the water because you get caught up in a line you can’t see. Irked is generous.”“You’re a mermaid?”“Maid!” It yelled. “ The beard too subtle for you? I happen to be a well trained hybrid. Designed for underwater attacks. I demand you release me.” He added already trying to free himself from the fishing line around his tail.
Ian bent down and cut the line away. His catch made his way back to the water with as much dignity as he could muster. Belatedly Ian recalled his phone had a camera, no one would believe him without evidence, not even with Marty vouching for him.
“Ian, wake up, I brought you here to relax, not sleep.”“I was relaxed,” Ian mumbled, folding the paper up. Genetic cross breading was highlighted again, no wonder his dreams were so weird, he thought.Ian’s line suddenly went wild….
The end…?
To read more go to
http://Writing.Com/authors/moonhawk
For those curious about the thistle and Scots phrases I tend to use blame the parents. I always do, dont I 62audley
short story section
A Long Day Ian reeled the line in slowly. He’d been sat there, the main course for midges, for six hours with nothing but lumps to show for it. Until now. His rod arched as man and beast fought for dominance. “See. I told you that you’d love it. Looks like you’ve got a big one.” Marty said, ignoring his own idle rod to focus on Ian’s.“Get the net.” Ian snapped. One fish was not going to make up for a lost day, no matter how ruddy big it was.“What is it?” Marty asked, as with a Herculean effort Ian landed his catch.“ You’re the fisherman.”“It’s not a fish, I know that much. It’s a little irritated though.”“Irked. Not irritated, would you not be? There you are swimming along, minding your own pay attentions, when suddenly some fool in a stupid hat’s yanking you out the water because you get caught up in a line you can’t see. Irked is generous.”“You’re a mermaid?”“Maid!” It yelled. “ The beard too subtle for you? I happen to be a well trained hybrid. Designed for underwater attacks. I demand you release me.” He added already trying to free himself from the fishing line around his tail.
Ian bent down and cut the line away. His catch made his way back to the water with as much dignity as he could muster. Belatedly Ian recalled his phone had a camera, no one would believe him without evidence, not even with Marty vouching for him.
“Ian, wake up, I brought you here to relax, not sleep.”“I was relaxed,” Ian mumbled, folding the paper up. Genetic cross breading was highlighted again, no wonder his dreams were so weird, he thought.Ian’s line suddenly went wild….
The end…?
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To read more go to
http://Writing.Com/authors/moonhawk
