Fandango’s Story Starter… #FSS #Fiction

Fandango’s Story Starter #27

I realised when I got home that I had accidentally…

…left the back door open.

I found a family of five had taken up residence in my home, plus a small dog was jumping at my leg.

Trying to shake it from my trouser leg, looking at it, my thoughts were unkind. No more than a rat with fur.

Finally, the woman took hold of the dog. ‘I am so sorry, we only meant to shelter for an hour or two. We are trying to get to London by Friday. If we make it, we get the keys to our own home. The thing is, we have to be first in line…’

Three children sat quiet, and the man I presumed to be the husband and father, apologised for the intrusion. ‘Their legs you see, small, they tire…’

I listened to their full story, sad indeed. My heart moved; I took them to their destination. They would be first in line, or my name isn’t Nicholas…

© AnitaDawes2022

Fandango’s Story Starter #FSS

Fandango’s Story Starter #18

Image by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay

This week’s Story Starter teaser is:

When I first moved here a few months back, I couldn’t believe that…

…the vicar couldn’t be trusted, according to the network of gossip with the womenfolk. That the butcher will short change you and the pub landlord waters down his booze.

That if there is nothing to gossip about, they will make it up.

It seems we need to watch our backs.

The curtains twitch whenever I leave the house. I feel their eyes on me, fishing for something to gossip about. My wife and I have turned it into a game, letting out small morsels of information, to see how large the return. By the time it has gone around the village like Chinese whispers, it is too large to contain.

We decided to move, leave a letter for the new tenants. If they like gossip, they’re well in. What happens when there is nothing left to gossip about?

They wait until someone dies and someone new moves in…

© Anita Dawes 2021

Fandango’s Story Starter #14…

Fandango’s Story Starter #14

This week’s Story Starter teaser is:

I heard the music as I entered the room, but all that was there…

… was a faint outline, a mist of what used to be. An orchestra so fine, I sat to listen, thinking it a shame if they should ever find their way home through the veil. Music like that should never be lost. Would that I could bring young musicians in to learn, without fear of the ghosts.

As the thought vanished, I realised as a music teacher, I might be the only one who can hear them. Would they stay for me, let me teach this music on their behalf?

The music built to a crescendo which I took to mean yes.

The next day, I moved the music class to the new room. I asked the class to sit and listen. Three students said they could hear an orchestra; one they could listen to for days. That was good enough for me.

Let the music live on…

© Anita Dawes 2021

Image by Steve Buissinne from Pixabay