The Unicorn Challenge.
A magical new weekly writing opportunity from her – Jenne Gray – and me.
Visit her blog every Friday to see the photo prompt, and post your amazing story in her comments section.
Or on your own blog, and stick the link down in her comments.
The rules are:
Maximum of 250 words.
Based on photo prompt.
That’s it.
To hear me read my story, just click here:
Pétanque
There’s always one, isn’t there?
Y’know, a wee bit too competitive, edging towards aggressive.
I mean, boules is meant to be relaxing, a bit of fun.
Yeah, we all play to win, and we like a wee flutter on the side, maybe up to a Euro a point, but mostly it’s about being out in the sunshine enjoying the banter.
Here, in the Place des Lices in St Tropez, I remember my old friend Roger explaining the concept of boules.
‘You need a good tree for shade, a bottle of pastis, a glass and ice.’
He gazed dreamily out of our office window, 300 miles north of his native Montpellier.
‘And the boules,’ I prompted eventually.
‘Hmm? Ah oui, si tu veux.’
Roger’s approach to life was pretty décontracté, laid-back.
But here in this Mediterranean paradise, there’s a guy who takes it much more seriously, who sneers and mocks and baits opponents.
Who is a bad loser and a worse winner.
Who mutters curses and sulks after a defeat, but who is overly triumphal at any victory, or even a successful tir to clear a rival’s close-lying boule.
The indulgent locals initially put it down to the natural exuberance of a newcomer, saying nothing at first.
But as time passes shoulders lift, heads shake, and advice is given.
Alas, it goes unheeded, until his behaviour becomes intolerable, spoiling the peace of the activity.
Now, outcast, he watches from the sidelines.
Yeah, but I still jeer at the losers!
Oh, very nicely done.
Thanks, Chris, festive greetings and stuff!
You answered your own question, CE, with a brilliant twist out at the end.
Some people are not happy unless they are breaking someone’s boules.
Joyeux Noël à toi!
Thanks, Nancy, happy you liked it.
Et bonnes fêtes, mon amie
Anche a te, caro amico mio.
“There’s always one, isn’t there?” Yes, and I’m the one who never ever heard of boules. I read about it and now I know! Nice friendly game.
Usually it is, but some folk just have no class, dear Lady.
Your telling of Roger’s understanding of boules is a delightful summary of his attitude to life.
And then you show this other guy – the objectionable opposite of Roger.
I’ve met him many times in my life.
Both clearly drawn in your characteristic, rich descriptions.
And then the surprise final line – yep, obnoxious right to the end.
I want to reach into the story and ‘gub’ him.
Sometime I’ll tell the story of how Roger learnt to speak Scotteesh!
Glad you enjoyed.