Introducing #fridayflash, and its attendant unironic hashtag. New wordbunchings every Friday. Feel free to join in. Rules are your own.
What I did on my summer holidays
This summer, we headed for a fortnight in the south of France. This was a dreadful mistake.
The weather was hot and muggy, few deigned to speak English to us, and to top it all off, we were trapped in our hotel by a developing hostage crisis. Apparently members of the hotel staff felt mistreated, and after the failure of their strike (which thankfully had terminated well before we step foot in the country) one recruit took it upon himself to commandeer the hotel, and declare us all his prisoners, until his pay demands were met. Naturally, I had a low opinion of all this, and communicated as such to the finer broadsheet newspapers.
Thankfully, few were harmed save the gentleman, who was subdued by a costumed vigilante, and we were able to travel home unmolested.
3 out of 5 stars – despite the incident and the terrible room service, a tolerable location to holiday at.
What I did on my winter holidays
Undeterred by our summer venture, Marjorie and I made plans to holiday in Melbourne, but these were scuppered when our aeroplane was hit mid-air, veered wildly off course, and landed in the ocean. Marjorie maintained the culprit was a large, green, scaly arm, but she was distressed about her best dress being soaked in salt water and is prone to exaggeration.
2 stars out of 5 – we did get a dip in the sea, I suppose.
What I did on my autumn holidays
We were taking an extended break from holidaying after our mishaps, but there was an opportunity to visit New York City that Marjorie was keen on. I was wary, since I did not trust that disc hovering over the Empire State Building. Needless to say, I was proven right, and we only just managed to escape from the city before the army moved in to deal with those strange green men.
1½ stars out of five – on top of everything else, the food was terrible, and the accents grating.
What I did on my spring holidays
Despite my protestations, Marjorie booked us a weekend break in Poole. Since it had only been seven years since our last disaster, it struck me as a rash decision. Nevertheless, I consented, and had packed my case, when suddenly I came down with the most terrible fever. Marjorie packed off to Poole on her own, while I stayed away, stayed in bed, and enjoyed home comforts.
4 stars out of 5 – I had to nip to the shops to get a refill on the sherry, which put me out rather, especially when our boy Jonathan informed me of a venture named “Ocado” which would have delivered it to my very door. Something to note for next time.
Inspriations
Warren Ellis, Available Light (2002)
The Producers, dir. Susan Stroman (2005)
Kanye West, Yeezus (2013)
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