(600 words) Long John Silver stepped forward on his crutch. “Ah, Jim lad, why so sad?” “Stop calling me Jim, my name’s Billy.” “Sorry, Jim lad, but it be your birthday tomorro’. Twelve years old thee’ll be, to the day!” Billy sat at his desk, looking at his homework on the screen. “Look, d’you think this’ll have enough thrust?” “Sure to, Jim, it’s a grand rocket motor!” “But the fuel lines, I don’t know if they’re wide enough.” “What do the equations say?” asked Harry Potter. “Oh, they seem OK, but fluid tensors aren’t my strong point, you know that.” Harry brushed the hair back from his forehead to reveal a lightning-shaped scar. “See this scar, Billy. Voldemort gave me this.” Billy put his hands over his eyes. “Shut up! You’ve told me that a thousand times.” “Look, Professor Snape killed Dumbledore. D’you think he’s in league with Voldemort?” “Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” The door opened. It was dad. “Billy, what’s all the shouting about?”
(550 words) The sleek black police car pulled up, just ahead of a man, tall, leaning forward as he walked, as if forward motion was the only thing preventing him from toppling over. He had a distinguished face, probably handsome when young, thinning grey hair, silver steel-rimmed glasses, and a long nose. He looked up with surprise. Joshua got out of the police car. “Hi, Buddy, what are you doin’?” “Who, me? Just walking.” “Why? Don’t you know what’s on tonight? The final of The World’s Got Talent!” The man’s face looked blank. “I don’t watch TV.” “Don’t watch TV, you cannot be serious! Come on, man, everyone’s glued to the screen right now!” “Well, not me. I just wanted some … fresh air, exercise, you know.” “Actually, I don’t know, buddy. Think about Little Thelma, right now probably singing her heart out with The Nation’s Favourite Song. And you say you don’t wanna watch her!”
“Police state, that’s what this bloody place is becoming!” Arthur complained, looking up at the mandible poking incongruously from beneath a peaked cap. The policeman’s protruding eyes swivelled down at him and Arthur noticed the creature’s diaphanous folded wings twitch. “Look out! Mantra.” said Stan, his companion. “We are honest, we love the king,” they … Continue reading Don’t Mind the Police!