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It was Saturday and therefore the day that James usually liked to post a short story on his blog. But this particular Saturday had been quite a busy one, and he wasn’t sure if he had adequate time to do so.

He had woken up relatively early, though by the gruelling standards set by his workday alarm clock he felt he had positively had a lie in, when he rolled out of bed at 7am. Being in a benevolent mood, he had proceeded to cook breakfast for himself and his beloved wife. She had declared it a triumph (for indeed it was), and thus, well in the spousal good books, the day had begun in the most positive of ways for James. After a satisfying morning repast, James then patiently awaited the delivery of his twice-weekly grocery shop. It was scheduled to arrive between eight and nine, though in fact did not arrive until ten past nine. He was mildly put out, but used the time to wash up the considerable mess left by his early morning  culinary activities, as well as the remnants of the previous evening’s delightful cod and chickpea curry. The delivery driver was suitably contrite when he did arrive, and the majority of the groceries were accounted for, though notably absent was the coffee that James had ordered, and he was, alarmingly, running low on supplies. He did have plenty of decaf, but that was not going to be enough to adequately get him through the day. He knew he would need to go out to replenish his caffeine stocks later on, but there was still an adequate reserve to get him through the morning, so he put the rest of the shopping away and proceeded to get on with his to-do list, which consisted largely of making a leek and cauliflower soup. Well, if he was being pedantic, he’d have to concede it was actually a leek, cauliflower, parsnip and potato soup, and he he was being super pedantic he might even describe it as a leek, cauliflower, parsnip, potato, onion, garlic, chilli, water, salt and stock-cube soup. While making the soup he also listened to music on his relatively old but still entirely functional iPod Nano. Currently he was listening to songs predominantly from the 2011-2012 era (if such a short time period could be described as an ‘era’). There was no particular reason for this.

Once the soup had been made, James proceeded to exercise in his living room, while simultaneously watching an old episode of Star Trek Voyager. Currently his exercise regime consisted of a combination body-weight exercises (he felt he should use his considerable body-weight to his advantage) and the use of a kettlebell. He had stuck to this particular regime for a number of months – it seemed to tick most of the fitness boxes he required from a work-out, with the added bonus that he didn’t actually have to leave the house to do it.

Exercise (and Star Trek) complete, James put the soup through the blender, and after ladling some of it into plastic containers to be frozen for later use, he heated up a portion for lunch. His wife, enjoying the second sampling of James’ cooking that day, declared the soup a triumph and James revelled once again in the spousal good books.

After lunch James walked into town. He needed to purchase a gift for his nephew’s christening the following day. It was a tad ‘last-minute’ but James still felt he should make an effort to get something decent. Granted, the six-month old recipient would be largely indifferent to the offering, and but James felt that the shop across the road would not be a suitable retailer for a christening present. True, he had purchased gifts from said establishment on previous occasions, but he was certain that a moderately-priced bottle of shiraz wouldn’t cut it this time.

The trip to town was relatively quick, town was busy, the weather was cold, and James did not feel inclined to hang about. He identified a suitable store, purchased an appropriate gift, stopped in a food retailer to buy some coffee and was home within the hour.

This should have left plenty of time for James to fulfil his blog commitment of producing a short story, but it was the last day of the Six Nations Rugby tournament and James had made arrangements to watch the final game in the pub with his friend. It was for this reason that he had worked so hard to establish himself in his wife’s good books, and he was due to depart for the pub shortly having earned her blessing.

This did not, alas, leave him sufficient time to write a brand new work of fiction, but he was reluctant to not post anything.

Suddenly James had a bright idea. He could create the illusion of a short story by just writing about his day so far in the third person.  He had seen this technique employed to great effect by fellow blogger Bryntin in recent weeks. It was therefore, as James acknowledged, not his own idea, but in the world of blogging, where people write unsolicited missives to the world at large for no financial recompense, surely intellectual theft was something of a given.

So, with his conscience relatively clear, James sat down and wrote what might well have been his most redundant post yet.

12 thoughts on “A Saturday Story

  1. Peter, having spent the morning in the Queens Medical Centre, Nottingham’s prestigious University hospital, where his wife was being fitted with a new eye, came home, collapsed in a stupor, and, later that day, read this long, soporific, diatribe, purporting to be a short story; Peter found the short story to be, in fact, a short story, but, and this is a big BUT, no sentence was as long as the one that Peter intended to write, and, indeed, did write, in reply!
    P.S. The soup sounds tasty!

    Liked by 1 person

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