Wednesday Write-in #68

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Welcome to the Wednesday Write-in!

Welcome to the Wednesday Write-in. This event runs every week to help any and all writers take control of their productivity and imaginations. Please join in; we’d love to read your work.

Prompts

diamond  ::  man’s best friend  ::  mail  ::  stew  ::  bulge

Guidelines

There are no hard and fast rules, but here are some brief guidelines:

  • You can use the prompts as inspiration or try to work them into your story somehow. Use as many as you want.
  • When your story is done, post it online (your blog/twitter/in a comment here), tag with #wednesdaywritein if you like, and comment with a link so we can read it.
  • Please take the time to read and comment on as many other stories as you have time for (but we won’t shout at you if you don’t).
  • If you want to write a poem, a script, or something completely different, feel free.

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19 thoughts on “Wednesday Write-in #68

  1. Late Post
    The rest of the offices were in darkness. Kate had her coat on and was sitting idly on the desk swinging her legs and admiring the diamond on her finger.
    ‘Don’t get yourself in such a stew, Meg,’ she said. ‘It’s only a letter. If the mail has already been collected the old fart can take it to the post office himself, if it’s that important.
    There was a cough from the doorway behind them.
    ‘Have you finished that letter, Sue? And by the way, Kate, in the office they call me old pillock, not old fart.’
    ‘Don’t be pedantic, darling. We’ll drop the letter on our way home, thank you Meg.’ Kate slid gracefully off the desk standing to reveal the bulge of her belly beneath her coat. She went to give her husband a kiss. ‘Your chariot awaits, my Lord. And you know, you really have to stop treating your poor secretary like man’s best friend. She has a home to go to too.’

  2. Pingback: Weekly Wednesday Write-In | Tessa Sheppard

  3. This is sort of based on a folk tale ( the idea of misused of wishes) but the rest is home-made 🙂

    The Fisherman and his wishes

    Once upon a time in the good village of Wolkenstein there lived a husband and a wife. The husband was a fisherman but he didn’t find much pleasure in his work: the water was cold and the fish were scarce. The woman stayed home and tended their kitchen garden but only cabbage and sugar beet grew in the rocky soil. They also had a goat but his milk tasted like water because on the mountainside the grass was thin and tasteless.
    Wolkenstein had three other residents: the priest who lived in the decaying wooden church and shuddered every time a gust of wind blew through the cracks between the plank, an old widow had three sons all of whom had left a village and with this broke the heart of their mother and a young shepherd who tended the goat of the fisherman’s wife and the three pigs of the widow. He was called a shepherd for convenience’s sake and nobody knew much about it him but that one day he appeared in the village and stayed. The fisherman’s wife was convinced that he was a criminal who escaped the law, the others had different view. But it is a fact that he was a great help during the annual harvest of the parish wild pear trees. After the harvest the two women made jam from the pear and the whole village was eating that until next autumn. It was a bleak and predictable life but you could grow to find joy in it. Everybody seemed to be pleased with what they have but the fisherman’s wife. She envied the widow because she had three pigs and a house which was slightly bigger than theirs.
    It happened one day as the man was out in the sea fighting the waves in his barge that he felt something weighing down on his fishing net. He gathered all his strength pulling and pulling at the heavy weight until he finally got the net back in his boat. He was expecting a pretty trout or a school of herrings but the only thing he saw was a tiny, fat gold fish.
    The fisherman was looking at it with utter amusement since he had never seen the like.
    “Good fisherman,” said the fish on a boy’s voice.
    “Don’t eat me, am small i would not satisfy your hunger. I am the crown prince of the fish, for your kindness I can guarantee you three wishes.

    “Hah, little fish. How would I know you are not lying? You just want to trick me.”

    “Nothing is simpler. Make your first wish here and if I can fulfil it, you can let me go.”

    The fisherman liked the answer so he quickly plunged into his thoughts to figure out what would be the best. His stomach grumbled loudly.
    “All right fish here is your first task. Give me a bug bowl of delicious stew, I haven’t eaten any for God knows how long time.
    Suddenly a pot appeared in front of him in which the most mouth watering stew was steaming he had ever seen. He could smell the rich pork in it and the spices gave it a peculiarly appetising smell. The fisherman wanted to start eating immediately but however hard he tried he couldn’t find neither a spoon nor a fork nor anything with which he could eat it. He tried to drink it from the pot but it was so hot he threw it down in a second.

    “I wish I had a goddamn spoon, he grumbled, otherwise it is quite difficult to eat.”
    In the next instant a beautifully carved spoon appeared in his hand. The man grinned happily and dived into the stew. It was the most delicious thing he had ever eaten. The only problem was that it was gone too soon and left the good fisherman with an incredible thirst.
    “What would I give for a good cold beer,” he sighed and a big jar beautiful, cold beer appeared in his hand. He drank it with immense pleasure and only when the last drop ran down his throat did he realize that all his wishes were gone. He started shouting at the fish but after a while he came to see that it wouldn’t change anything. At least he had a good lunch. He let the fish back to the sea, thanked it for the feast and walked back to his house. He took the nicely carved spoon and the glass jug, he thought they would make a good present for his wife. He had a guilty consciousness because he had spent the wishes without consulting his other half but as he was walking up the rocky path he convinced himself that it was better this way because his wife would have wished for something utterly silly like a diamond necklace or a bigger house… No, he decided, it was better this way, she would happy with the presents and she should never know about his secret meeting with the crown prince of the fish.

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