First sitter: I hooked them up
First stander: Matchmaker … sweet
First sitter: Yeah … couldn’t have him single all his life
First stander: Hope he’s grateful
First sitter: Nah, having second thoughts
First stander: No way
First sitter: Yep … says he’s not sure
First stander: Just be the nerves
First sitter: Not him … doesn’t get nervous
First stander: Wait till his speech … gets everyone
First sitter: Won’t bother him … it’s really annoying
First stander: They got you doing anything?
First sitter: A reading
First stander: Like from the Bible?
First sitter: Nah, worse … a poem
First stander: That’s nice of them …. special
First sitter: It’s horrible is what is
First stander: You don’t like poems?
First sitter: They’re all right … just not out loud
First stander: Was it your mate’s idea?
First sitter: Hers … her way of involving me.
First stander: You practised it?
First sitter: Loads … don’t want to screw it up … it’s her favourite.
First stander: What about your mate?
First sitter: Can’t stand it … hates poetry … thinks it’s stupid.
First standing: Right … okay
Second stander: Got much on this weekend?
Second sitter: Got a wedding reception to go to. Someone my wife knows.
Second stander: Well, you’ll be looking smart.
Second sitter: Thanks. Need to be. It’s at some posh restaurant.
First sitter: The Waterfront?
Second sitter: Uh?
First sitter: The posh restaurant … The Waterfront?
Second sitter: Err … yeah … why?
First sitter: I’ll see you there.
Second sitter: You’re going to Vicky’s wedding?
First sitter: Yeah … I’m a groomsman
Second sitter: Oh … great.
First sitter: Do us a favour … don’t say anything.
Second sitter: About what?
First sitter: What you heard
Second sitter: Didn’t hear anything mate
First sitter: Thanks
Second sitter: I’ll see you later then
First sitter: Yeah … see you later
Second sitter: Oh … word of advice … don’t look down when you’re doing it
First sitter: Eh?
Second sitter: When you’re reading your poem … don’t look down … ruins the impact … good luck.
This fictional short story was written for a 50 Day Project organised by the artist Amanda Billing. I get 45 minutes to an hour (not the project’s rules, it’s just about the time I have right now) to write a story, sometime between 4.30am and 5.30am. After that, the day is no longer mine.
N.B. The sketch image for this short story was created using AI (at best, I can draw a half-decent stick man). The words are all mine.
Suggested Further Reading:
