Short Story Example - Block 5, Row 3, Seat 17.

Block 5, Row 3, Seat 17.

Shay’s taken everythin way’ve ever had. The lot. The telly, the fridge-frayzer, the microwave, the furniture, washin machayne, even the laight-fittings fer God’s sake! Ah should ave sayn it comin. It inna larke shay never warned may. Shay’s been sayin it fer years: ‘Ow thayst bloody cares abite is footbeow. Thee conna ave the best of both worlds! Tak yer pick!’ Ah never took her words seriously, ah’ll bay honest. Ah alweeys thewought it was just another one of those empty threats, thee kneowst?. It wonna larke ah wis aweey every deey. Once or twace a wek, with the lads, cheerin em along, home n aweey. Ah dunna think ah’ve been a bad husband. Fer from it.
What am ah supposed ta deow nah? Ah’ve got absolutely nothin. Shay’s even taken may most prized possession, just ite of spite: an ‘istoric payce o’ rubble from the owd Victoria Grind. The Boothen End, thee kneowst? Ah spent two wayks wages biddin fer that.
Ah’m crushed.
Thee‘s nowt ah can deow; conna slayp, conna work, conna eat, conna think…
Ah’ve got nothing left.
Ah bloody well loved that brick.

Short Story Example - That Couple Next Door

That Couple Next Door.


That couple next doewer raylly git on mar bloody wick, thee deow. Thee think theer so high n mighty, teowkin’ ow posh, larkes - why conna thee teowk normal larke may n our Trev’ deow? Professionals, that’s what thee call ‘emselves, or to give it the full title, young professionals, ow bloody “la-de-da,” thee are, thee act as if theer farts dunna stink larke every-bugger elses deow. ‘E leowkes larke thee’s summat wrong with ‘im! N ‘er, dunna git me bloody started on ’er; weolkin’ dine th’ road as bold-as-bloody-brass, larke er’s trayin to balance a payle o’ beowks on ’er pretty blonde ‘ead. Ooh, ah conna bloody stand ’em, ah conna. Ah oewnly went rind theer to say “Ay up, welcome to th’ neighbour’ood,” but ‘er leowked at may larke ah wis bloody-well daft! Well, ah’ve trayed showin’ um ‘ospitality - eet’s obvious thee onna from rahnd ‘ere, ah wis doewin’ mar neighbourly bit, thee kneowst, larke eet says in th’ Bible - but ah wunna deow eet again! Ah wunna bother! Nah, that’s eet as far as ah‘m concerned, thee’ve burned theer bloody bridges!


That couple next door seem terribly nice, very welcoming, although me and Richard have only met them just the once, as we were unpacking when we first arrived. Quite frankly, it’s been dreadfully arduous adjusting to our new surroundings. My darling Richard, I know, has been under considerable strain adapting to his new job over here; I can see the anxiety in his eyes. He seldom complains. Bless him. Richard is Richard, and during the preciously short few years of our marriage I’ve tended to notice his behavioural traits, his eccentricities, if you like, and when under pressure, his burdens do serve to force him into his shell, making him appear, to outsiders, anxious and maladroit. Given time, however, I’m sure he will adjust to our new status quo. There is a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, I’m sure we’ll settle here, eventually.
The new house is a dream, I love it, and the area is very agreeable; with lots of amenities and culture around the local area for Richard and I to enjoy. Yes, the more I think of it I’m positively sure we will make a home for ourselves here. That is, however, if we ever learn to interpret exactly what it is our neighbours are actually saying to us…