Dialogue Homework

‘Ice and lemon?’ Olly asked.

‘Yeah, whatever’ the woman replied.

Not a great start for Olly’s customer engagement offensive, but he persisted.

‘You here for the concert?’

‘No’

‘Oh, ok, meeting someone?’

‘No, just passing’

Another voice interrupted,

‘She’s not interested mate, not your type is he love?’

The voice was that of a middle-aged man, dressed in a manner Olly’s mother would have described as ‘smart/casual’ but sadly not smart enough to disguise the beginnings of a beer gut. The man edged his bar stool closer to the woman.

‘These youngsters, they just don’t have the chat-up lines, do they?’

The woman looked weary.

‘He’s just doing his job.’

Olly was grateful,

‘Thanks, trying my best.’

The man ignored him and leaned further towards the woman.

‘So where are you passing from and to?’

The woman raised her gaze from her glass to the man’s expectant eyes.

‘From the hospice and back to the hospice.’

‘Oh …... sorry love, I’ll, er, leave you to it’

The man moved away.

The woman’s attention returned to her drink.

‘You ok?’ Olly asked

‘Not really, but thanks for asking. ‘

‘Who is it you got in there?’

‘My husband.’

‘That’s tough.’

‘Yeah’

Olly picked up a box of tissues from behind the bar and passed it to the woman.

The woman blew her nose and managed a smile

‘Did anyone ever tell you how good you are at this?’

‘Nah, you’re the first’ Olly replied.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

‘

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

  The night before …. Caitlin was awake.   She ought to have been asleep and it should have been easy, swaddled in the softness of her winceyette sheets under the gentle weight of her quilted eiderdown. The sheets smelt faintly of washing powder and outdoors drying and the eiderdown radiated a soporific warmth.   But Caitlin was far too excited to succumb to the bed linen’s sedative effects and was, instead, fully immersed in the delightful sensations particular to this night. Pots clattered in the kitchen below. The clatterer summoned up wave upon wave of aromas that spiralled upwards towards the insomniac. Caitlin tried to identify the components of the brew. Overriding all the delights were the sausage rolls. Caitlin’s nose judged them to be just about ready to come out of the oven, her salivating mouth judged them ready to be eaten.   Caitlin imagined devouring them hot, she savoured the flakiness of the pastry and the herby meatiness of the interiors - and suddenly, the cold i
Read more
  On the 9.15 The sound exploded, invading and ransacking the ‘quiet carriage’ of the 9.15 to Nottingham like a firecracker at a wake. Passengers in other seats were pretending to ignore the disturbance, fixing their gaze on laptops or spread sheets. But Donna couldn’t ignore it and, much as she tried, she couldn’t stop it either. She could feel the heat in her cheeks and the sweat under her armpits as she fumbled. Donna had never really understood how the smart phone worked and now, suddenly and inexplicably, it was blaring out an advert for ‘tena lady’ at maximum volume. In the quiet carriage of the 9.15. Full of men, and a small number of women, in suits. Donna had only wanted to look at the latest headlines but the bloody thing seemed to have a sixth sense for her age and gender and, indeed, for her overactive bladder and had decided to broadcast the most apposite commercial, intent on causing her maximum embarrassment. ‘Bloody ‘ell, bloody ‘ell’ she could hear herself sa
Read more
  Flash Fiction Reader, I was dismayed.   The house was a blackened ruin, bereft of battlements, roof and chimneys. What tragedy had befallen this place? Had my master survived? He who was my equal despite gulfs in age and status. He who had loved me. He who had lied. He who had proposed whilst not free to do so. Reader, I should perhaps have suspected. I had sensed her presence, heard the deranged laughter, witnessed the results of her madness, but it was not until the wed ding day that ‘the impediment’ had been revealed. I had fled that very night, yet the bond could not  be severed. Hence, my return. And now they were telling me that she had been killed and my master horribly injured. I found him at last, mutilated and blind but still as much my dearest love as I, his plain Jane, was his. Reader, I married him.
Read more