My stuff went down okay, I made people laugh – I knew taking a gun would be persuasive.
I started with a piece called ‘Experiencing Turbulence’, a flash fiction piece of 200 words (written on the One Word prompt of: ‘Brace’). I won’t post the story here because it’s a competition piece and going into an anthology, instead here’s the 2nd idea I had for the subject of Brace.
What’s happening on the street…
Two young dudes hang on a high street corner, watching… and knowing.
“Ain’t dat JP coming down the street?”
“No way man, he’s walking like
‘merica’s top model.”
“His trousers are higher than
“Up to the armpit?”
“Wassup JP dude? You got a elasticated belt caught over your head.”
“I am sporting the latest fashion,”
said JP posing awkwardly.
“Dat ain’t no fashion.”
“Oh yes it is, thought up by me. Gentlemen, let me introduce you to the Brace.” JP indicated the overstretched elastic belt with a careful sweep of his hand.
“Brace? Don’t you mean braces? Like there’s two of them?”
“Nah. This is the Brace. Singlar. For years now the fashion has been to wear the trousers low, but now’s the time to bring the fashion up to date. It’s what the Mayans were trying to tell us last year. You know what I’m sayin’,” JP tried to convince. His two friends were a tough crowd to sell to.
“It don’t look too comfortable.”
“This is fashion man, you gotta suffer to look good,” offered JP.
“But your eyes are bulging and you can’t hardly breathe.”
“Well, it is a little tight,” admitted the would-be fashionista.
“Man, your jeans are so high they acting like a bra on your gazoolies in that they are liftin’ and separating. And that ain’t good. Slacken the belt, bruv.”
“The Brace,” JP corrected.
“Alright, slacken the brace.”
“I can’t. It’s too tight and highly sprung. I can’t bend over,” JP complained. “Can you..?”
“I ain’t fiddling with your belt.”
“Brace,” insisted JP.
“Brace, belt, whatever – me neither, you’re stuck in your own little fashion cul-de-sac. You need to learn to reverse outta there, by yourself.”
“Okay,” said JP, determined to prove his critics wrong.
He twisted his body a little slowly to the left causing a creaking sound in the elastic which was already at it’s limit. It was too dangerous, like playing with a drawn bow and arrow – if the belt, sorry, brace slipped he could easily lose an ear. So JP turned to the right and then remembered he had an ear on that side of his head too. But he’d realised too late, he’d gone too far, the brace did begin to slide. The sudden look of panic on JP’s face when he realised he wasn’t going to be able to stop it: it all happened so fast. The brace flicked. He span. The taut elastic springing back to its tiny normal size, folding his body inwards and upwards, coiling him into his denims and pooft!! He was gone with a warped ping sound.
All that was left was a tiny fart of smoke.
The two young dudes nodded knowingly.
“That’s the trouble with high fashion, you end up going up your own arse.”
“Like sheep, innit.”
“Baa, baa. Follow da crowd.”