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    Quirky Tales
    Quirky Tales
    Quirky Tales
    Ebook101 pages1 hour

    Quirky Tales

    By Richard Kemp and Janet Kemp

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    About this ebook

    A collection of "outside the box" or "off-the-wall" short stories by husband and wife team Rik and Janet Kemp. Subjects and stories range from the humorous to the zany, with a few serious ones thrown in for good measure.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRichard Kemp
    Release dateAug 21, 2015
    ISBN9781310235313
    Quirky Tales
    Author

    Richard Kemp

    English-born Janet and Rik Kemp emigrated to Australia in 1981. Janet spent her whole working life as a schoolteacher, but Rik was a little more diverse: Over twenty years as a newspaper communications operator with titles such as The New York Times and the London Sun. All this was concurrent with his time as a part-time freelance cartoonist, culminating in five years full-time. Now retired to Queensland they have found a new interest in life: Writing short stories.

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      Book preview

      Quirky Tales - Richard Kemp

      Quirky Tales

      Copyright 2015 Janet & Rik Kemp

      Published by Janet & Rik Kemp at Smashwords

      Smashwords Edition Licence Notes

      This ebook is licenced for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favourite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

      Dedication

      To Helma Pietsch, our writing tutor, without whose generous help these stories would never have been written.

      Table of Contents

      Three Bridges

      Mrs Verity’s Store of Little Shopping Horrors

      The Rock

      The Bullying Penguin

      Old Joe

      The Bike

      The Old Dressing Gown

      Sleep

      The Old Man On The Corner

      A Question Of Importance

      Conversation On A Cliff Edge

      A Surprise In The Night

      The Great Adventure

      Will I Ever See you again?

      A Drive Through Hell

      On Diets

      Henry

      Building Bridges

      Late Returns

      The Clearing

      Winter Solstice

      Do It Yourself

      The Night Of The Storm

      One Day

      Four Soldiers Came For Christmas

      A Message From God

      How To Ski A Three-pointer

      Bruno And Jenny

      Notice On A Hotel Door

      DIY Down Through The Ages

      Bullets Go Through Hedges

      La Madonna Lisa

      Will I Ever See You?

      A Fond Adieu

      The Best Lie

      With Fire In Her Eyes

      Three Bridges

      By Rik Kemp

      The Great White Intrepid Explorer balanced precariously over the hand rail of the wildly swinging rope bridge across the gorge, heaving his breakfast into the stream 12,000 feet below. His host, the Lama, gripped the back of his belt firmly with both hands to stop him from following it. The Lama’s two acolytes each had one hand equally firmly holding the belt of the Lama’s robe whilst gripping a hand rail each with the other.

      The Explorer finally eased himself upright, pulled a dirty handkerchief from his pocket and began to wipe his mouth. The Lama winced, pulled a clean square of yellow silk cloth from his robe and offered it to him, letting the soiled handkerchief blow away in the wind.

      Feeling better now? He asked. The Explorer nodded. Handing the square of silk back. The Lama took it, grimaced, and let that follow the handkerchief into the wind. Good. Let’s get on then. The neighbours are waiting for us over there, and frankly this force six breeze is getting up my robe and chilling bits of me I’d rather not have chilled!

      The Explorer peered into the distance at the group of figures at the other end of the bridge.

      Then why don’t you wear fur clothes, like them? He asked

      That’s not clothes. That’s their natural fur. They’re Yeti’s.

      No such thing as Yeti’s! Exclaimed The Explorer.

      You try telling them that! Said the Lama.

      I never thought I’d be this scared on a rope bridge! Apologised The Explorer.

      For a start, it’s not rope, but you’re right. Even I get scared on it, and I helped build it. Back when I was a young acolyte like these two. However, it will probably last longer than the previous two. Four hundred years and not a single repair yet!

      Four hundred years, and you helped build it! Exclaimed The Explorer. You’re having me on!

      No, we do tend to live a bit longer up here. So do they, nodding to the Yeti’s. Move on a bit faster.

      So, what happened to the other two bridges?

      Well. The first one was made of iron. Our scientists discovered this mass of red earth in the back garden was really iron ore. The lads across the gorge found some too, in their back yard. So between us we built an iron bridge. It took our ancestors nearly three hundred years to build, though. Long time, but it was worth it. Got to know the neighbours much better. Quite good friends now. Nice people.

      Why so long? Asked The Explorer.

      Well, they only really had enough iron to build the bridge. Not much left over for tools. So every time a worker dropped a spanner or whatever, he had to climb down 12,000 feet, find it, and then climb the 12,000 feet back. Trouble was, when finished, it only last two hundred years. They didn’t know about rust and rust-proofing, 9,000 years ago. The whole lot collapsed one night and fell into the gorge. Good thing no-one was on it. There’s still the odd rusty bit down there, underneath your breakfast, look.

      "I’d rather not! Hang on! You’re having me on again! I know my history. The Iron Age didn’t appear until 7,000 years ago! He snorted. Also, why didn’t they just tie the spanners to their wrists with string?"

      For you, maybe. We’re a bit ahead of you, and we hadn’t invented string back then. Anyway, then, there was the golden bridge. That lasted centuries, a few thousand years, to be exact.

      Gold? Real Gold? The Explorer forgot his heaving innards, at the word ‘gold’.

      Thought that might perk you up a bit. Smiled the Lama. Yes, whole great lumps of it. Lying around in the garden, in the streams, under the bushes, pushing up through the lawns, even. Created havoc with the mower blades. Then the scientists at that time realised it was a metal, quite malleable, and guess what: The neighbour had lots of it lying around their mountain, too! So everybody got together and built a golden bridge."

      What happened to it?

      Your predecessor. Marco Polo. He passed through here on his way to get some Chinese takeaway. Stopped off on the way back. We were so glad Genghis Khan hadn’t bumped him off, we had a great party to celebrate his return. No Yeti’s. They didn’t like him much, so they didn’t come. Good thing, otherwise they’d never have got home for the next couple of hundred years.

      Why?

      Well, during the night, whilst we were sleeping it off, he and his lot dismantled the bridge, let it fall into the gorge, and collected it on the way back to Italy. We don’t like him very much, either, now.

      So, this one?

      Keep moving. That’s down to the Yeti’s. Every summer, they moult. Couldn’t have that loose hair blowing around, got into the machinery at the space-ports – ours as well as theirs – and into the ships’ machinery as well. So every summer morning they would have a good comb down then store it in the silos over there. Then one day, one of them was just twisting some between his fingers, discovered he’d made thread! Then string, then rope! So that’s what’s this bridge is made of. Yeti hair!

      Yeti hair? Hold on! Space ports? Space ships? The Explorer exclaimed in disbelief.

      Oh, thought you’d missed that bit. Yes. Ours is the other side of the garden. Craftily camouflaged as the round-topped mountain over there. Explained the Lama, glumly.

      Now I know you’re having me on! This ‘garden’. Sounds like Shangri-La to me!

      The Lama’s eyes narrowed. What do you know about Shangri La? He asked grimly.

      Doesn’t exist! Except in that film ‘Lost Horizons.’ Anyway, how do you know …

      "We pick up all your stuff you put out on the airwaves. Through our satellites.

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