QuickFic 20/03/15: The Winner

Phew. That was a jump-start to our weekend.

See what we did there? Because the prompt is of… Yeah, okay.

We asked for stories of up to 250 words on this bouncy couple:

qf16_799

And you jumped right in, oh yes. There was romance, there was comedy, there was drama and there was the eternal void (we particularly enjoyed that entry, Thom). Very lovely stuff.

Anyway. We have to pick a winner, because that’s kind of how it works, and so we have.

And here those winners are:

RUNNER-UP: Alexis J Reed

Starfish Flick

They call it the ‘starfish flick.’ It’s one of the hardest moves to pull off. Right up there with the surprise shoulder turn and the thoughtful chin hold. It can look disingenuous and forced. The best models make it look joyous. An ecstatic burst of extended limbs.

I’ve been in make-up and hair for an hour. Arrived this morning with a serious case of the frizzies and the stylist has been battling with it ever since. Hairbrushes brandished like bristled Excaliburs. She’s managed to tame it down and stands back admiring her victory. The make-up artist tsks at me about the bags under my eyes and the dryness of my skin. She layers red lipstick on, thinking it might detract from the overall hideousness of my face. Her words, not mine. And I haven’t even been offered a coffee yet.

Tommy McKenzie saunters onto the set with his jacket slung over his left shoulder and I swear about three girls pass out in his wake. He goes to wardrobe, emerges looking every bit the university boy. He winks in my direction. I nod back. He’ll get no fawning adulation from me. I’m too busy running through the starfish flick in my mind.

We jump. We smile. The camera blinds us. Strange that a millisecond of action will be held forever on celluloid. But each time we jump I can feel infinity calling and I answer with a starfish flick that will echo down the ages.

WINNER: Fran Harvey

Puppeteer

The strings are fine, so light as to be invisible – but they cut cruelly into the wrists and ankles, tug at the cheap cloth covering elbows and knees.

“It’s a learner driver,” murmurs Gordon, through his rictus grin. “Oh God, I hate learners.” His left arm jerks abruptly up, swings out sideways in a line and smacks Judy in the back of the head.

“Might just be the Master loosening his fingers,” says Judy hopefully, as her legs buckle and flap, a drunken goose-step.

“There’s a tangle coming, you wait and see,” says Gordon, and he spins on his strings, one foot caught behind Judy’s knee. His head nods up and down and couple of times, and there’s a clatter as he’s dropped for a second. He rests gratefully, head at a rag-doll angle. From here he can just about see up Judy’s skirt. Her arms open welcomingly, her head tilts to one side. “Here we go.”

The strings pull taunt, and they stand to attention. Lean to one side, lean to the other, heads forward, heads back.

“A proper beginner,” whimpers Gordon, as his left foot taps to no discernible rhythm.

“Just keep smiling,” warns Judy, bravely. “It’ll be over soon.”

The jumps begin – arms wide, legs out, jump jump jump. Everyone has to start somewhere. 

 

Congratulations, Alexis and Fran!

And thanks to all our entrants. You make Fridays our favourite.

See you at 9.50 next week for a brand-new prompt – bouncy weekends to one and all.

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