The end of the world!!

Dear Diary May 21 2011

Apparently the world is due to end at six o’clock. Blimey, that crept up on us without much warning. Millions of years  the earth’s been here, and all we get is an ‘and finally’ item at the end of the news telling us that we’ll all be floating around in space in a few hours time. They’ve not even given us enough time to pack a few bits and pieces. According to the newsreader, if I’ve been a good boy, Scotty will beam me up to paradise. I can only hope that there’s free Wi-Fi when I get there. What am I saying; I may end up stoking the furnace down below! Hell’s teeth! Better pack my shorts just in case.

What’s the time? Mmm, five o’clock. Earlier I set up a reminder on my Sky TV box so I don’t miss a particularly interesting programme on BBC Two at six. With a bit of luck there’ll be a delay on the world ending so I’ll at least see the beginning half an hour or so. After all, my train was thirty five minutes last night and that’s only a local service. The end of the world is far more complicated to arrange, and it’s the first time they’ve ever attempted it.

Let’s think positively. If the world switches off in the next few hours I won’t have to worry about who wins Idol, after all, it has to be the poorest line up of non-talent yet. Do you remember when the Titanic sank? The band played on. I can only hope that that strange teenage boy with the deep voice isn’t providing the entertainment for our send off! Just thought of another bonus ; I won’t have to endure the Olympics next year. I had planned to escape to a remote island whilst it was on, but now I’ll be able to save the expense.

What’s the time now? Five twenty. Not long to go. I could open that wonderful bottle of 1984 Bolly I’ve been saving for a special occasion. Not sure. It would fetch a fair price on Ebay, and if those doom mongers are wrong I’ll have slugged a pretty valuable asset. I think I’ll stick to supermarket plonk I normally throw back just in case.

I’ve just had an email from my friend in New Zealand. They had their six o’clock this evening this morning if you get what I mean. The fact that I received it a couple of minutes ago is a fair indication that the pessimists got it wrong. Having said that I keep getting told how wonderful NZ is, so it may just have been spared.


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Hi, just had a wonderful last supper of chips and chocolate biscuits. A quick look at the timepiece on my wrist tells me that it’s a couple of minutes to six. It’ll be goodbye world in a few moments! This is so exciting! Do you detect a sense of sarcasm in my words?

Right, count down time. Five, four, three, two, one, zero – nothing! So it’s back to the daily grind, back to life as we know it. As I thought the prophets of doom got it wWwwrOnggGgg..............................

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Words Not Necessary # 4 / tree stump sculpture

What bad luck!

This week our prompt on Writers Island is superstition and at Sunday Scribblings, surrender.

Last Friday was the thirteenth. It’s the day that friggatriskaidekaphobics dread! Freddy was born the thirteenth, the thirteenth of February to be precise. But Freddy has no time for superstition; in fact on Friday the thirteenth he makes a point of walking under ladders, and clapping his hands at black cats so they run in front of him. If he sees an ambulance he pinches his nose until he sees a brown dog.

It’s a sad fact however that things always seem to go wrong for Freddy not on the thirteenth, but the on the fourteenth. Last Saturday was the fourteenth. He was walking down Fountain Street and cockily passed under a ladder when a pot of pink paint fell from on high bumping him on the head. He toppled on to a black cat which screeched and scratched his nose. A brown dog passed by and mistaking him for a log, pee’d on him. Then an ambulance arrived to take him to A&E.

Today is the fifteenth. A few hours ago Freddie discharged himself from hospital. Whilst there he’d had plenty of time to think. He decided that it was about time he surrendered to superstition . He declared himself defeated. He worked out that the next Friday the thirteenth will occur in January 2012. On that day he intends to open his umbrella indoors, he’ll spill salt on the table and maybe even break a mirror. Perhaps then, superstition will see him as less of a toy to play with. And just to make sure, he’ll push his spoon through the shell of his boiled egg to let the devil out. He’ll touch wood at every opportunity making sure of course that there are no nails poking out. He’ll sniff pepper so that he sneezes three times before breakfast and he’ll touch his toes because that wards off bad luck on the thirteenth.

I’ve just had a call from the hospital. It seems that Freddy was so deep in thought as he walked down the road, that he walked straight into a lamp post and knocked himself out. Bad luck Freddy!

The merry month of May

Spring is heralded in by an army of trumpeting daffodils. Their job done, Spring  lays her carpet of yellow primroses, their smiling faces raised towards the sun which shimmers in a pale blue sky. Speckles of purple appear on the downy green grass as a new crop of crocuses  greet the new season.

Slowly the skeletal trees in the copse come alive as their tiny leaves unfurl. Shards of silver light shoot down through their branches and illuminate a sea of sturdy bluebells on the woodland floor.


And now, in the merry month of May, regiments of multi coloured tulips stand to attention, and azalias show off theirs coats of vivid yellow, red and orange.

Spring is the season of rebirth. Creatures venture from their winter hidey-holes, and birds go about building nests. Lambs skip and frolic.

Spring sounds different; it feels and smells different. A season filled with hope. A reason to be cheerful. A season filled with joy.

This weeks prompt on Writers Island is Season, at Sunday Scribblings May, and at Carry On Tuesday In the merry month of May...

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Words not necessary # 3 / tulip time

click on pics to make huge!