My third walk-in to the wonderful collaborative world of the Six Sentence Café & Bistro. If you are here for the first time, the prompts for our weekly Six Sentence Story entries are provided by Denise, aka Girlie On the Edge, and at the link-up you can find the work of many other authors, including the weekly additions to the SSC&B world.
Do check them out.
There are many kinds of writers there and maybe you find one you like.
Also, this week I seriously struggled with grammar, as in Estonian we have slightly different rules for writing dialogue (which is also why I usually avoid them), so pardon me if there is something weird; it may be that I made some mixeroos, haha.
Also, if anyone wonders where my tendency to write sentences that are entire paragraphs comes from, I was often called A. H. Tammsaare when writing in Estonian for school, as he was notorious for doing exactly that, and as a young writer I read all of his books.
The only difference is that I at least try to format things in a way that makes them easier to read;
he, on the other hand, had no mercy.
Rules of the hop:
Write 6 Sentences. No more. No less.
Use the current week’s prompt word.
Link is live Wednesday 6:00 PM, ends way late Saturday night.
Spread the word and put in a good one to your fellow writers!
PROMPT WORD: DUST
Six Sentence Story - the Nervous Poet's Return to the Six Sentence Café & Bistro
Aurelia sped through the city with the box lodged under her arm, and if you had been an onlooker to the scene, you would have thought the box was the most precious thing she owned and that, at any minute now,
her combat boots would catch on fire.
While she might have looked determined, she was actually cooking up a way to explain how the box had ended up in her arms, with multiple made-up scenarios playing out in her head as to how this ordeal might end.
Well, before we reached the third sentence in this story, Aurelia had already found herself inside, next to a rather curious dog wagging its tail at her and eyeing the box as if it knew exactly what it was;
"You look troubled; perhaps I can help you somehow,"
a man smelling of Cuban cigars started the conversation before Aurelia even realized that she had made it back to the crime scene.
"Oh, hello, ummm, I might be in a little bit of a pickle..."
Aurelia's voice was a bit shaky as she took a big breath and continued,
"ummm, I have gotten myself into a real dookie..."
and slid the box from under her arm onto the desk before blurting out:
"...last time I was here, I panicked and tripped over this box, and somehow it ended up in my possession; I mean... I took it home with me, and I came back to return it, and I am so-so sorry,"
and then she stood there much the same way she had stood before her mother after breaking her favourite vase, while the man eyed her from head to toe with a raised eyebrow.
"Hmm, mysterious box mysteriously appearing in your possession in a mysterious way,"
the man mused while examining the box and rotating it in his hands,
"For Poets and Writers Alike... it seems exactly like the sort of thing that would appear here,"
then looked up as the dog examined Aurelia while wagging its tail,
"the dog's name is Hūnga, and it seems they like you despite the 'dookie' you have managed to arrange,"
the man chuckled at his own joke before continuing,
"it certainly takes some nerve to return it,"
and even an onlooker could tell how nervous Aurelia was as she rubbed her sweaty palms together, staring first at the ground, then at the dog, and finally at the man, who seemed rather amused.
"Come,"
the man stood up and walked to the bartender with Aurelia tottering behind him,
"I will leave you in some great company; perhaps you should get a drink,"
he turned around and glanced at the Nervous Poet,
"probably something without caffeine, as you seem jittery enough,"
and Aurelia sat down while Hūnga gave her hand a promising lick, sneezed as though there had been some dust, and then followed the man, known as the Gatekeeper, as he walked away with the box.
There's more of my work:
If you like short stories I have them scooped up into one category (including the six-sentence stories).
Or maybe you prefer poetry,, more personal entries can be found at the Blog.
There's also the IT studies blog in Estonian and "Chaos in Spring" on YouTube, Spotify and other streaming services.
“…we have slightly different rules for writing dialogue”.
I will type my mental comment despite your excellent follow-up (to your own statement) line
Rules??! You have Rules??! We don’ need no steeken Rules” (The Treasure of the Sierra Madres 1948)
will be back to comment on the actual Six (lol)
If you want to experience an heart attack, look at Estonian rules for writing. Absolutely abysmal…
I prefer English even if I do sometimes feel a bit… As it’s not my native tongue….
Thank you for the comment!
I think Hūnga has accepted her apologies for taking the box.
It does seem that way.
An excellent scene… loved it. Also I am very happy the Gatekeeper and, of course, Hūnga, are there. So… what is in that box, hmm.
I wonder if the contents change accordingly to who looks inside of the box. 🧐 😂 And what will become if it. And how will I mange to slither myself up to room 215.
Told ya… give me a genuine conversation and your worries shall be gone.
A most excellent episode, Reelika.
And if I may… a miniscule detail:
Me, the Gatekeeper, one and the same… have never smoked cigarettes… only cigars.
Until our next encounter .
Oh my god I wanted to write cigar. 😂
Thank you 😂
Cuban cigarettes 😂
How did I not notice it 😂.
You good 😆
😅
I feel like those authors that publish a book and find a typo afterwards.
😂
An excellent addition!
Thank you so much!
The nervous poet seems to be in good hands, good company now.
I recon her nervousness will calm down once she realises how nice everyone is.
Would like to extend a compliment that is synchronous with what I wrote at Frank’s Café Six.
I was always of the opinion that collaborative writing should be well-nigh impossible to pull off, given how (in my estimations of such things) subjective and personal writing is (or, better, might be)… but here you and your next installment in our group Serial Six are… both extending the narrative (including roping in (lol) additional characters… a Proprietor no less!)
damn! props, yo props
Of course Chris’s lead-off Six kept thing moving while not limiting narrative options.
Don’t know for a fact that collab-flash-fiction is a thing, but if it is, I’m willing to bet they don’t got a dog as a character. lol
“Aurelia sat down while Hūnga gave her hand a promising lick, sneezed as though there had been some dust,…”
two seconds on the clock and…score!! Prompt word for 2 points and the win.
I had the prompt word in another sentence and somehow managed to lose it while editing, by the way… And that comment made me laugh because, I kid you not, it was a two-second addition before hitting publish, haha.
Hūnga is a very memorable character. 🤪
I heard in Chris’s comments that you may need help in the room soon. 🧐
I wonder what will go on in there… Fun. So much fun.
And the part of writing for the collaborative world that I find trickiest is writing in a way that leaves room for everyone else to do whatever the heck they want.
Surely a new type of experience for me, as I never thought I was good at such teamwork. But I’m very grateful for the opportunity.
Thanks, Clark, and everyone else at the SSC&B.