Jerry Hatric of Tiskris, Miss. today smashed the world record for sleeping, having slept 23 days, 4 hours, 2 minutes and 45 seconds.

The surprised 60 year old said, “I didn’t mean to break any records, but after a heavy weekend with my buddies I did feel quite tired.”

Mrs Hatric said she was pleased for her husband, and said that she hoped this was the start of great things, because so far he hadn’t really amounted to much.…

Rex lay on his side on the sun-warmed brick, tethered to the washing line. Wasn’t life good? he thought to himself, smiling happily with his long, pink lolling tongue hanging out. Yes, it was warm, a walk was imminent, and then there would be food, glorious food – lots of it.

The Enemy ambled by, her tail in the air swaying back and forth…

"Who's that in the photo?" Jemima asked?  

I looked, unsure; this was a photo of us in our lounge, just last week, my wife and I, and two daughters Amy and Jemima, but here in the photo was another, a boy, somewhere around 6 years old.  

My wife grabbed the picture from my hand, "It looks like you when you were young, you know, the picture we call Little Lord?"

I did know the one and she was right - that was me in the picture, but how was this possible?  I looked at…

I’ll say one thing about the Brits: they know how to queue, and this was no exception: a long, orderly queue that wound its way patiently down the stairs of the Institute. Many had camped overnight and now stood wearily with their gear at their side, staring out the vast, steel-framed windows at the lavish gardens outside, where a crystal-clear fountain beckoned invitingly.

At the front of the queue, a pair of elevator-like doors opened and closed regularly, accepting one person at a…

There was a young girl from Barcelona,

who wanted to be a blood donor.

When her father, a vampire,

discovered her desire,

alas he promptly disowned her.

The clear blue water glistened in the sun, a pool of sparkling diamonds beckoning me in.  I stood at the edge, sweat dripping from my brow, and then took the plunge.  Icy water enveloped me as my body glided through the water.  I was full of admiration at my streamlined physique, the muscles that rippled in the current, until I hit the wall of the paddling pool, and stopped.

‎"This is nice," she said.

I looked over the little candlelit table at her and smiled. "Yes."

A tall, thin waiter with an unlikely shock of black hair and matching moustache glided over, offering a pair of gilded menus. “Voulez-vous blura rrthgoue le froutier?”

My wife glanced at me with alarm, but I just winked reassuringly and turned to the waiter. “Dos big macs et biers, por vous plate.”

Scone!

Yes, I know – terrible.

But you know what?

Its fabulous too.

I love jokes, silly and grand.

And that’s six sentences, I think.

(Sigh)

Editor : the last “sigh” is a meta sentence, so doesn’t count in the tally of six, neither does this one.

“Hang him higher,” the voice said, “so he feels more pain – this one’s a fighter.”

The grimy soldier gave the winch two more yanks and I felt the chains bite mercilessly into my wrists as they pulled me upwards, leaving me in breathless agony.

The voice continued, “How long are you going to continue this foolishness of yours?  He does not exist, say it.  Recant your beliefs and we will let you see your family again - the young pretty one will be glad to see you…

It's a sombre situation.  Hammer in hand I stand over their bodies. They clutter the lounge with bloated red-white faces that smile in absent terror. I gaze at the wall pensively.  Who will help me now?  The picture hangs askew, mocking me still.

She snatches the magazine from the hands of the man sitting next to her at the doctor's surgery, and throws it to the ground.  I lean forward and pick up the magazine, apologising to the old man.  He smiles understandingly, but

he doesn't, not really.  She looks at me with wild, flashing eyes and puts her hand on my leg near my groin, whispering hotly into my ear, "Do you like that, lover?"   I push her away gently.…

She pulled the trolley suitcase noisily behind her, the girl with the purple hair and tight grey trousers.  I watched as her short legs strode forward purposefully, backwards and forwards, gazing appreciatively at the rise and fall of her voluptuous rear.

The conductor blew the whistle and she leapt on to the train, with me following close behind, but then she stopped

suddenly, causing me to fall…

I can't move - tied to a chair - sweat pouring down my face and bare chest.

Outside, children squeal under the spray of a leaky fire hydrant. Joe leans forward and tests the sharpness of his blade on my left nipple; I scream but am not heard.  

A mother calls her child to dinner - somewhere a lawn mower buzzes.

Joe glances outside at the children, then up at the deep, azure sky.

"It's turned out nice," he says,…

A small black hole has been discovered in Pembury, Kent.

Mrs Amanda Bollard, the discoverer, says she first noticed it when things began to disappear in her lounge. Scientists are intrigued because unlike other black holes, this one does not increase in size with mass. Dr Luther Van Dross, the esteemed Cosmologist, commented that this discovery marked a singularly unique event in our space time continuum.

Mrs Bollard said she doesn’t know much about such things but feels right…

write a six story using those first six keyboard letters

Quintin was an English scholar of unknown

Woefully lacking in dollar or crown.

Eager for fame, he created pastiche,

Reels of ironic film so niche

That only one came to see

Yon scholar hanging from a tree.

She lay on the grassy, daisy smitten carpet staring at the endless sky above, not sure if the hue was blue or azure.  The clouds wafted by, playing tag with each other, wondering where the wind would be taking them today, but not too fussed either way.  The sun hung in self-centered, emblazoned glory, quite bored, shining hopefully on the little girl below, looking for a little appreciation.  She basked in the rays, oblivious to the fragile neediness above, dreaming of castles in the sky,…

Wrinkles wound deep furrows along his face, itself a crumpled memory of handsomer years – his eyes had however not lost their bright luster and twinkled at me now with good humour. “Don’t mind me, me boy. I’m just messin’ witcha.”

I smiled tentatively in response, my young ego more than a little bruised at his insightful mirth. “You’re right of course, Grandpa. She is a pretty fine lass with broad, child-bearing hips, but tis her mind that entrances me.”

The…