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Finish The Story

The words that start this month's story:

"The young man sat alone on the bar stool and watched with envy at the couples dancing around the ballroom floor."

STORY 1 - ‘Plus Ҫa Change……’ by Ian Clark

The young man sat alone on the bar stool and watched with envy at the couples dancing around the ballroom floor. “Where do the archivists dig up these old films. Do they select them specially for the trips to Mars?” wondered the middle aged man lounging in his SlumberFine  (made to measure) Comfort Seat. The trip was of course sponsored by the Company which had long since stopped producing sweets in favour of more profitable enterprises. He mused on the Company which all those centuries ago had not missed the brand opportunity when it got into travel. Having worked there 150 years so why not enjoy the discount to which he was entitled  and enjoy an upgrade along the way. Only another 100 years to go before retirement whatever that was. He did not know anyone who had retired as they all seemed to spend their lives travelling and there were plenty of worlds to see. In the past it was called space travel but now it was just travel. Where is the mystery , which he read about, that people in the past felt, or the danger. He could not imagine. He had been to Mars before to celebrate his hundredth birthday and wondered if it had changed or rather what and how much. Everything changed. He would stay in a fully serviced condominium which was different from his weekend home on the Moon. People there complained that the homes there should be for the locals. “Why does anyone need a thousand homes” they ask? What do they know about what people need. 

Einstein was wrong about time. You could choose how fast or slow you wanted it to go by choosing the right pill- except of course at work where the Company decided. He was experiencing a rapid time selection for the journey and noted with amusement the clock showing the hours changing steadily. It was 24 hours to landing and so he had better buckle up. No there was not enough time for another beer.


The young man sat alone on the bar stool and watched with envy at the couples dancing around the ballroom floor. It had not been a great start to the evening, he and his good mate Jock Morrison had arrived rather late having got lost in Nottingham town centre, then Jock had decided that a couple beers in the Trip To Jerusalem pub would ‘lubricate’ his dancing feet before they finally entered The Nottingham Palais De Dance. It was a Saturday night and unsurprisingly packed out, Jock looked across at the young man, and winked, adding, “If we don’t score tonight mate, we never will,” and with that positive prediction, the Scotsman disappeared into the crowd, last seen moving in the direction of a tall leggy blonde.

The young man made his way to the only unoccupied bar stool and ordered half a pint of Watneys Red Barrel. Alcohol was not his favourite tipple but it provided essential Dutch courage to make the long walk across the ballroom floor and ask an unknown girl if she’d like to dance, with the odds on chance of getting turned down. The Watneys also deadened the disappointment. Casually he glanced to his right and noticed an attractive, dark haired, girl sitting alone at a table in the far corner, he wondered whether she was alone, or did she have a boyfriend who at this very moment was at the bar, with too much drink inside him, and all too ready to hand out a knuckle sandwich to any passing stranger who looked too admiringly at 'his girl'. As all these wild imaginings passed through his mind, the object of his interest suddenly turned her head, and in doing so, noticed him looking at her, she smiled, and quickly looked away. It was her smile that gave the young man the signal to get up, and without a word, walk slowly towards her. A potential knuckle sandwich versus a warm smile, no contest! “Would you like to dance with someone who has two left feet?” he said quietly, the wide smile reappeared and the young man knew he was home and dry, “Why not?” she replied, “You can’t be any worse than the last fella who asked” with that she got up, then together they walked across to the dance floor. 

12 months later, almost to the day, they were married at a small church just outside the city of Lincoln, all because of the power of a warm smile.

Finish The Story - Next Month

Next month we ask you to finish another story, by giving you the start in a few words and ask that you send us the finished article in 200 to 500 words.. We will publish whatever you send us, but without the author's name unless you ask.

Go on! Give it a go !

Next Month's 1st Words:

"The wind and rain increased in intensity as the young girl ..........