But first…
Dulltown, UK: Today’s dictionary word is, monoptote.
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The great big truck, and its long trailer, seemed to be doing everything that Morris tried, even missing a parked police vehicle, though Morris couldn’t even drive a car. It all started off a week or so earlier. The story involved several sheep, a snooker player who was very bad at playing poker, and Morris’s very strange brother, Jasper. Oh, and a tall pink haired girl, Maude, from The Haunted House sideshow – she played a vital and positive part in the tale too, and…
It was all very well playing the oboe pretty expertly, but Samantha’s friends, all six of them, played drums in death metal bands, and even her current boyfriend, Donaldo, only played a fiddle. She had just been photographed for an article to be published in Oboe World magazine, but none of her coevals were impressed. As Donaldo had just been arrested, Samantha decided to go to the tree where he lived and see that everything was alright, but hanging from one of the branches, was a…
It was a strange feeling, to be in a dark church in the early hours of the morning. The old rusty lock on the door had been easy to pick. Charles Ratster, felt his way around, but he eventually, put down his bag of tools, sat in a pew, and, using a torch, he reread the tiny written instructions. He needed to know how the large organ pipe was connected, and also how heavy the thing was. Suddenly a hand, a small one, closed firmly on his left shoulder. A female voice, whispered in his ear…
Narps and Queld were handling the triangular craft quite well, but unexpectedly a sign flashed up and announced a problem. It quietly mentioned that the Gravity-Ether-Ball-Oscillator was badly overheating, and needed to be jettisoned immediately. A horn started sounding. Narps and Queld’s task was to observe the primitive humans doing what they did best, killing each other. Down below them there was a battlefield full of smoke, fire, and dying, and dead humans. The craft tilted, and then dropped down. Queld looked across at Narps, and said…
Professor Cludz look down at the ancient and tattered, thick volume on the library table in front of him. He was wearing fine gloves, but he was nervous about actually touching the crumbling thing. For some reason, the words The Tractate Middoth popped into his big round head, and then, it fluttered away again. He reached out a trembling forefinger towards the front cover, but paused a centimetre away. Did the book, just move, a little? A small shuffle? Getting ready to be touched, after hundreds of years? Then, all at once…
Dave Whatt 