Commuter Capers

28 04 2008

Top five comedy commuter capers, go on – I dare you:

5. Next time a free paper is slapped into your chest arm bar the free paper pusher to the ground and tweak him a la Mister Miyagi. Helps your defence later if you yell assault as the paper hits you.

4. Dramatically swoon to the floor, drawing maximum attention the next time someone walks into you or cuts you up.

3. Next time someone with hygiene issues sits next to you remove a can of deodrant and spray the air around you. Use of phrase “For the flies” optional.

2. As everyone rushes to the train to board dance down the platform performing the corect steve tyler moves to classic cheese rock Walk This Way.

1. Next time some one invades your personal space cough loudly, explosively and spraying as much vapour at them as you can without actually spitting on them. Then talk loudly to your companion or mobile phone about how your TB is really a lot better and you hardly bring up any blood these days. Hand wipe to space invadee’s garment is optional.





Friday Flash Fiction: Kind of…

23 11 2007

This story has moved. You can read the full thing here: http://www.neilbeynon.com/fiction/elevator/

As has become painfully clear to constant readers of this blog, and as exemplified by the woeful lack of a “Columbo Villian of the Week” on Wednesday, life has gotten on top of me. And so this week I find myself – for the first time since I started – running a little dry on ideas for Friday Flash Fiction.

So that’s it. Well not quite.

My pride will not let me lie down. Crap though the results may be. And so, with a big conspiratorial wink, this week I present the Elevator Entry:

Elevator Friday Flash Fiction
By Neil Beynon

Her shadow was long on the ground when she reached the snow kissed bank. The amber sun low on the horizon looked like it was falling off the edge of the world. The faint miasma from the near by processing plant the only blemish on the otherwise crisp November sky.

She fell through her memory to the last time she had stood there gazing over at the other side of the river. Hakon had been there then. They’d driven to the river in his gleaming Audi and eaten fast food from the pier as the rain had poured down on the roof of the car. She’d dropped a bit of a pickle from her burger onto the leather seats. He’d not been impressed.

This story has moved. You can read the full thing here: http://www.neilbeynon.com/fiction/elevator/








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