Hello, and welcome to the twentieth, and final, issue of
Tales from Snippettsville
, Short Stories From A Small Town.
If you want to know what it's all been about, go to
Snippettsville Group
If you have any feedback on the stories, and let's face it, as writers we all love feedback, just click on the author's name, in blue at the head of their piece. If you want to make a general comment on the group, click on the group link above.
Contents of Issue 20
The Outbreak Of The Great Snippettsville War Of The Sexes
by Jon Hayworth
Tripping Triumph
by wildsweetone
The Ecumenical Hoodwink
by Quasimodem
A Matter Of Business
by Champagne1982
Illustrations
Banner, (c)Quasimodem, 2003
Header Picture, (c)Couture, 2003
Lake picture, (c)Alex de Kok, 2004
Door picture, (c)Perdita, 2003
Lake picture, (c)Alex de Kok, 2003
Footer Picture, (c)Alex de Kok, 2004
Now read on...
* * * * *
The Outbreak Of The Great Snippettsville War Of The Sexes
by
jon.hayworth
I had spent a quiet Christmas up in my cabin, not wanting to join in the communal festivities of an event I did not believe in, I had given folks the impression I had gone home for a few weeks. Secretly I had been doing some serious writing without the distraction of Snippetsville matrons.
It was the first week in January when I rode the BMW into town, riding through deep snow was certainly an experience for me. The bike was fine, all the R&D on the Russian Front in WW2 had paid off.
I sensed the tension in the air the moment I entered the store. Seeing Jack's hang-dog demeanour I thought he had failed to perform his matrimonial duties over the Christmas period, Ethel could be very demanding sexually - one reason why I had avoided anyone.
Although Ethel smiled, I could sense there was something else on her mind. A few moments later when she brandished the clipboard in my face I knew what it was. “Will you sign our petition to keep our community pure.”
How I stopped myself from laughing I do not know. Keep the town PURE - first there had been Hannah, then Ethel knocking on my door and since then - well I will tell you about them some other time.
I looked at the petition, before I read the text I noted most of the signatories were women, Father Morrison and Mr Niles the minister were the only males who had signed. I always read the text before I sign a petition, ‘We the citizens of Snippetsville object to the idea of a Massage Parlour being located in Snippetsville.’ I shook my head and handed back the clipboard, “sorry Ethel I can't sign.”
“Why not?”
“I live at Green Lake; it’s not really Snippetsville.”
“You mean you’re like him,” she jerked her head in Jack’s direction. “Everytime he sees her his tongue is hanging out - I only wish he could show the same enthusiasm for his wife.”
“Now Ethel ...”
“Don’t you go now Ethelling me ... now look what you gone made me do! I told you Jack Carr I ain’t speaking to you.” ‘See you tonight,’ she mouthed. I nodded my head.
In post-coital bliss, while Ethel toyed with my sated, limp cock. I reciprocated by tweaking her nipple while marvelling on the pioneering spirit of American women, who will drive along snow covered tracks for a few hours of illicit sex - women I knew in England wouldn’t drive to the supermarket when snow had fallen.
We both heard the motor and the tires scrunching on the snow. My first thought was Jack had at last worked out where his wife was. I guess Ethel shared that idea, she dove under the bedclothes.
Going to the door, I wondered if Jack had a gun.
A wave of relief swept over me when I saw Hannah. “Hi,” she said, “I saw you were back and thought I’d be neighbourly. I see you gotten company.” I must have looked startled, because she said, “I saw Jack’s truck outside.”
She saw the empty room, then she clicked. “Well I’ll be damned,” she said striding to the bedroom door. “Ethel! Ethel Carr how dare you, he is mine.”
“Hey I’m not a lump of meat!”
“Shut up!” the viragos chorused.
“I can share if you can share,” Ethel offered.
“Has he got the stamina for the two of us?” was Hannah’s answer.
One guy, two women - every man’s dream but it is hell in reality, and I still haven’t signed the petition.
* * * * *
Tripping Triumph
by
wildsweetone
“Helloooooooo!” Liz shouted along the empty road.
Not a soul answered, which felt odd considering it was midday and she strolled along Snippettsville’s Main Street.
“Hellthefuckinglooooo!”
No answer. Not a bird stirred. Utter silence.
“Well,” Liz shrugged red woollen covered shoulders at nothing in particular. “Be that way. See if I care,” trudging along the snow dusted street. “This town sure could do with a little Life. It’s like a morgue.”
Walking past 10 Main Street, something bright purple caught Liz’s eye. Turning, she realised a notice was stuck in the doorway of the empty building.
‘Massage Parlor
Opening Soon’
“Well, holy far out. A Massage Parlor in Snip eh. That’ll cause chaos for the cronies,” she chuckled, pushed the door open then walked inside the building.
Dust and cobwebs assailed her, along with “Hey what are you doing in here, it’s not safe, get out!”
Startled, Liz squinted through the darkened room spotting a vague shape on the other side of the building. Walking towards it, she tripped on a piece of four by two laying on the concrete.
“Oops sh...”
“Now, now, mind your language young lady. I’m a godfearing man and don’t need to hear bad words coming from a beautiful woman’s mouth.”
Luckily Liz was still unable to make out the man’s expression, or she might have seen the twinkle in his eye as he admonished her. Luckily for him that is. She was in no mood to pussyfoot around today.
“What are you doing in here? Obviously it’s not safe for either of us to be here,” Liz’s arm waved about the building.
“I’m a builder, contracted to get this place up to scratch for the opening day.”
“When exactly is the opening day? I can’t believe a hick town like Snip is going to allow a Massage Parlor in its midst,” she snorted.
“Oh, it’ll not be for some time yet,” he said, “there’s lots to decide and lots to do in here before it happens.”
“Yes I can see that.” Her eyes having become accustomed to the dimness within the building, now saw the mess that surrounded her. “It looks like the Parlor won’t be opening for another year at least.”
Moving about the building, Liz tripped again, only this time, she sprawled right out across the floor. The contractor rushed to her side checking that she was all right. Liz grinned, “It’s okay love, I’ve twisted my ankle is all. I’ll be fine in a few minutes. Give us a hand up.”
He helped her up, then grabbed a solid wooden box and seated her on it.
“Well now, this is a fine state of affairs,” he took off his cap, scratching his head.
“No matter. Like I said, I’m fine. It’s just twisted.”
Liz reached out, grabbing his overalls, hoping she could lift herself up. Instead, she found the overalls peeling from his body. She ran her long fingernails down the front of his exposed chest stopping only as her hand became caught up just below his belly button.