Tag Archives: micro fiction

Repeat of Story 209: Angora rabbit

(This is the fifth story in a week or so of repeats. “Angora rabbit” first appeared on this blog on 7 May 2014.)

Anton had a cat. The neighbour had a beautiful white angora rabbit. The rabbit was in its hutch. The cat was free.

One day the neighbour was at work, and Anton’s cat turned up on Anton’s doorstep with the rabbit. It was dead. The rabbit was larger than the cat. The cat had dragged the rabbit through the mud.

Anton panicked. He washed the dead rabbit’s angora fur thoroughly; hair shampoo and all. He dried it with a hair dryer. The rabbit looked as good as new, but dead. Anton crept over to the neighbour’s place, and put the dead rabbit back in its hutch.

Several days later, Anton chattered to the neighbour over the fence. This was the dreaded moment.

“You wouldn’t believe it,” said the neighbour. “My rabbit died.”

“Did it?” said Anton, feigning surprise.

“I buried it in the garden,” said the neighbour.

“Poor thing,” said Anton. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“That’s not all,” said the neighbour. “After I buried it, I came home from work and it was lying dead back in its hutch.”

1693. Huberta and Hubert

As if having the name of Huberta wasn’t bad enough… She’d gone and fallen in love with a man whose name was Hubert. “Huberta and Hubert” sounded doubly bad. “You are cordially invited to the wedding of Huberta and Hubert”. And so on.

Huberta practiced writing out the combination in all sorts of situations. Mind you, she simply scribbled it in the back of a notebook. “Huberta and Hubert announce the birth of their first child”; “Huberta and Hubert are booked on a Mediterranean cruise”; “Huberta and Hubert celebrate their golden wedding anniversary.”

Huberta suddenly snapped out of her reverie when the bell rang. That was the end of Mathematics class.

Oh if only Hubert would notice her and ask her out!

1690. Lovely little old lady

Bernice was a lovely little old lady who drove around in a beat-up old car and lived in a cosy bungalow with a cottage garden and a sausage dog. She was always pleasant – some would say delightful – and hence would be invited to gatherings here and there whenever a celebration was called for. For example, the local school always invited her to their Christmas party (not that they called it a Christmas party) simply because she was delightful company.

Bernice had a saying if anyone asked her age: “Quite frankly, I can’t afford to die.” It was true that the cost of dying had rocketed into the stratosphere in recent years. There was the coffin and the funeral and the hearse and the flowers and the… Would it never end?

Well, afford it or not, Bernice passed away. Her will requested a simple funeral, the sausage dog got looked after, and the school got to build a new gymnasium.

1689. Gadgetry

Alva was one of those slightly past-middle-age rich people who lived alone and entertained themselves with every new gadget that came on the market. Her garden gate opened by remote control just by pressing a button on her diamond watch. The front and back doors to the house had locks with number pads. Her television on the wall could turn slightly to the left and right depending on where she was in the house. For example, if she was in the kitchen the television screen could turn slightly to the left. Gadget after gadget…

Alva had a large house which she shared with a lodger called Howard. Howard was a promising plumber. He had an apprenticeship. A practical hands-on job with some mathematics suited Howard down to the ground. Alva let him stay for a song. It was her way of helping someone young get a start in life. Of course, Howard the Plumber was as into gadgetry as Alva – and a handy gadget fixer as well!

“What I dislike most of all about modern things,” said Howard to Alva, “is having to remember all these different passwords and pin numbers.”

“Oh, I just use the same one for everything,” said Alva.

“That’s a good idea,” said Howard.

A week later, Howard had a brand new car, and Alva had no money in her bank account.

1687. A seemingly insignificant event

It’s strange, is it not, that so often a seemingly insignificant event or thing can suddenly turn into something momentous? A simple walk to the corner shop for sugar can be the occasion for meeting a future spouse. An appointment with the dentist can be the occasion where one picks up a disease and dies. A visit to not-the-usual lottery outlet can mean winning millions of dollars.

Anita was more than aware of such possible causality when one lovely summer’s day she decided to go to the zoo. She went on her own. She liked that, because going to the zoo with other people could mean they’re more interested in the Mongolian wild ass than in the Australian pig-nosed turtle. At the zoo one needs to linger where ones interests lie, and chat casually to those around who may share a similar fascination.

On this particular visit Anita was captivated by the antics of the Malayan porcupine. A gentleman (quite good looking Anita thought) said, “Imagine sitting on one of those and getting those spikes shoved up your bum.” Anita thought the comment was a little crass but laughed pleasantly enough. The man’s name was Chadwick.

Then she thoroughly enjoyed the barking of the Indian muntjak. Her favourite thing however was seeing the hamadryas baboons. A man (quite good looking Anita thought) said to Anita that she shouldn’t really be feeding peanuts to the monkeys and Anita jokingly said she’d keep the peanuts for the Golden-rumped elephant shrew. The man roared with laughter. His name was Teddy. And then he got a sneezing fit which made Anita laugh and she said “You’re obviously allergic to Golden-rumped elephant shrew fur.”

Next, Anita had a lovely lunch in the zoo’s cafeteria; a cucumber sandwich and a lime milkshake. She finished with a slice of carrot cake which the waiter (quite good looking Anita thought) said was “on the house” because it was “yesterday’s”. The waiter’s name was Norman.

All in all, it was an enjoyable and successful day. Then Anita went home, which goes to show that not every insignificant event leads to something important.

1683. Seventieth birthday toast

“Well,” said Ferdinand, “a toast to my dear wife on her seventieth birthday. She has always faithfully stood by my side. When I went into politics nearly forty years ago she bore the brunt of raising a large family on her own. Such were the calls of politics.”

“We were indeed saved by the fabulous commission we received when she published her first collection of poetry. Normally poetry books don’t sell particularly well, but in this case I was able to buy a largish property in Mount Hollydell and a yacht.”

“These days we are both retired and lead quiet and peaceful lives. To be honest, I can’t remember when we last argued. Rowena has always been compliant, considerate, and the epitome of what a spouse should be.”

“A toast therefore to Rowena on her seventieth birthday.”

Ferdinand raised his glass, finishing off in one glug half of the glass’s contents.

“Yuk!” said Ferdinand. “This wine tastes awful.”

Rowena smiled coyly. This, over the years, was her sixteenth and final attempt.

1681. Felicity’s daughter’s fiancé

When Felicity’s daughter’s fiancé choked to death on a ham sandwich Felicity was somewhat relieved, to put it mildly.

Felicity’s daughter, Adriana, had been engaged to Desmond for just over a year, and Felicity disapproved. Not that she showed it of course, but Desmond’s fatal choking came as a disguised gift from the gods. It’s not that there was anything wrong with Desmond; he was a nice enough person, but it was his family that was cause for concern. Desmond’s twin brother, Russell, was a gang member and was known to live an exceedingly seedy life. “Slime Ball” Felicity called him; and when two eggs hatch in the same nest don’t expect the fledglings to be much different from one another.

Felicity attended Desmond’s funeral and shed the appropriate tear; mainly because she felt sorry for Adriana. But her heart was singing. That was over six months ago. So it was pretty distressing yesterday when Adriana came home and announced she was moving in with Slime Ball, the seedy gang member.