The Word Cloud

October....so many options..... Back in the States when I was young it meant the beginning of deer season and fresh meat for the table after gunning down Bambi's mum. 

In France it is Symphony Orchestra Month in Toulouse.  National Orchestras fromn all over the world come to entertain each other ....I' m no great fan but those musicians not performing that night will go out and play in the small brasseries and pubs.   Folk, re-arranged rock, blue-grass and requests.......... It will go on into the early mornings ...even on week nights........and it's magic is beyond description seeing classically trained musicians perform a violin duel..

In Southern Germany it is the beer festival month. The big one in Munchen is known globally but the regional ones are much better and the all important idiot count is much less...... My Deutsche is passable but gets much better after the five litre mark.......


So, with all of these choices in mind and travel in the blood, I am giving you your passport, your boarding card and 200 words to finish this sentance....

"BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 12, Last call....."

Where are we going and what happens when we get there........?

Bon Voyage.......and entertain each other.......

prop is it 200 words all in or on top of the opening line? ;-)

(205 words inclusive of opening)

"BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 12, Last call....."

And I’m off to the Motherland, the Emerald Isle. Now there’s a misnomer if ever the was one. Ruby Isle more like, given the blood spilt on its fertile soil. It should be known as the home of Granny Smith’s apples and Comber spuds and Bushmills whiskey, not dead boys flying back to their mothers, in union jack jiffy bags, business class.

An English chap in the seat next to me asked what was worth visiting in ‘Norn Iron’.

I smiled and sold him a warzone.

‘For a start, we have the cheapest hotel in Europe, can’t miss it, shaped like a huge H and a distinctive shade of grey. There’s some fine pieces of art, mainly on the sides of houses, start in West Belfast. Do check out the shooting gallery on the Falls Road when you’re there, but be sure to wear DPM for better sport, oh and bring a union jack. Omagh’s a must for a real blast and if you’re keen to meet some locals there’s a few friendly groups, look up the UVF and the RA, you’ll find them in the phone book.’

‘Great.’ He said.

‘Job done.’ I thought.

199 words added:

BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 12, last call for remaining passengers Old, Fat and Prop. This flight is closing in 5 minutes. The announcement bore the same neutral tones that announced the gate was open an hour earlier. As ever the consequences are clear. Get your ass in gear or we will go without you.

I don’t understood how people can buy a ticket, check in at least two hours before flight time and still not get to the gate in time. I mean, if they weren’t checked in they wouldn’t be calling them. There’s always someone. A ticket to Hong Kong is certainly not cheap, so why arse around like this. Who are these people?

Old must be British, Fat is Chinese obviously, but Prop. I’m not familiar with that one. That Chinese guy waddling along at speed. He could be Fat, well he is a bit tubby, so perhaps it is. He’s going in the right direction anyway.

And there we have him. Running full tilt. That just has to be Old. Oh bugger. Straight into that bloke with three coffees and Big Macs. I’d better get a mop. Two hours until my shift finishes, then home on the tube.

I wonder who Prop was?

"BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 12, Last call..."

Wendy waved her mop at me. ‘Exotic places like Hong Kong, and where are we going? Nowhere.’

That wasn’t quite true. I’d scrimped to pay for our trip to – it was a surprise.

I crossed my fingers. ‘Our shift ends soon. Fancy meeting up with John and Deirdre for a nightcap?’

‘Suppose.’

Our venue was the Dog & Duck. Taxi cost me a tenner, Wendy was impressed.

She snuggled into me. ‘Stephen, you spoil me rotten.’

‘Least I could do for my birthday girl.’

‘OOH,’ she said, as we arrived. ‘It’s posh.’

Chris, the landlord, had done us proud: turkey sandwiches and mince pies, lashings of whipped cream, and a huge birthday card from our mates.

John nudged me, pointed to our other halves who were sharing a joke. ‘It’s going great, mate.’

‘So it is,’ I said.

We joined the ladies. Someone had left a bag by the fireplace.

Wendy gave me a lingering kiss, stared into my eyes. ‘Thank you, honey; I’m having a wonderful time.’

When the bomb exploded, and scattered our bodies, my last thought was - we’re going to the most exotic place of all.

"BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 12, Last call....."

I’m going to the land of living canvasses … Japan. As I sit on the plane images form through my mind, geisha and kimonos in bright colours, a sakura tree. The blossom is the colour of candyfloss, beautifully covering the ground.

I imagine the blossom falling into my held out hands … when it falls like a whisper on them I wonderingly look up with a grin, wanting more laughing…

“ I can’t wait” someone says sitting in the chair next to me knocking me out of my reverie.

Oh.” I say feeling embarrassed trying to catch up with my surroundings.

I smile and look at him.

“By the looks of it you cant either!”

“Yes” I say still a few miles away in my thoughts.

When I get there its funny how modern it is here. I can’t believe I am here! It seemed like forever on the flight. I go to the Gion district hoping to see one. My heartbeat beats quicker in my chest and I grin as I see a young geisha in lilac kimono and red obi, her face profile walking in tiny hurried steps.

‘’BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 12, Last call.....’’
I raced to gate 12, hauling a bag of duty free crap. I needed to spend my spare euro’s, so what better way than to put my entrepreneurial skills to use and buy tobacco, alcohol and chocolate to sell in England. I guess I was a little sidetracked.
I got a few sour looks as I boarded the plane and slid into my seat.
I sat next to the window. There was a seat next to me which was empty. I’d not sold his ticket on so that i'd have more bag space.
I had travelled here with my boyfriend, Erik, but he wasn’t coming back. We broke up.
We started off fine. He was so sweet, so romantic, and so unpredictable. Eventually, he began to get under my skin, irritate me to the brink of insanity. I couldn’t handle it.
So i broke his heart.
Well, pierced it.
It’s ok though, I did it in the bath, no mess. The hotel had a cliff. So disposing the body was simple enough.
Disposing of the guilt had been easier. Men! This is the 9^th time I’ve had to resort to extremes!

(221 words including the opening...we're allowed 10% give or take right?!)

"BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 12, Last call....."

I wished I couldn't hear the tannoy announcement but I could. I could hear every single syllable, loud and clear. As if it was a voice inside my head.

I looked into the glass and moved my hand, the thick, brown liquid swirling around the cubes of ice. I raised it to my lips and caught the herbal, syrupy smell, then threw the whole lot back, allowing it to settle in my mouth for a second, before allowing it continue on it's journey, burning my throat in the process.

I needed to feel the burn. There was sweat on my forehead, sweat on my hands. I looked at my hand luggage, the small black case. I waited for something, a sign, a miracle, something that would mean I didn't have to get on that plane.

The Jaegermeister stirred something inside of me. I could run for it. I could leave my luggage and run, jump in a taxi and be off, somewhere no-one could find me, where no-one could force me onto that plane...

"Final call for BA flight 031..."

A girl dressed entirely in red approached me. She smiled at me, her dazzling teeth shining over her cleavage. She picked up my case.

"Come on Captain, let's get this show on the road."

(384 words!) Sorry, but I went over the word count since I got into my little excerpt...
hope you don't mind... :)

‘BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 12. Last call for Fiona Harding and Terence Gott. Please, make your way over to the departure gate immediately.’

‘Shit, that’s us,’ Fiona, shrieked, hoisting her skirt back on. ‘I told you there was no time.’

‘I didn’t take that long,’ Terence sighed, a cheeky grin pasted across his face.

‘We’ll have plenty more time for that when we get there. Come on, or we’ll miss the flight.’ With haste, she picked up her handbag and carrier bag stuffed with duty free goodies, and opened the door to run.

After a three minute sprint, she panted at the desk and handed over her passport and boarding pass.

‘You just made it,’ the assistant remarked, her lips in a firm pout.

‘Thank God for that,’ she huffed. ‘Terence, where is your boarding pass?’

‘It’s right here,’ he said, as he felt in his back pocket.

It wasn’t.

‘Please, don’t tell me, you’ve lost it,’ Fiona sighed, desperation starting to raise it’s weary head.

‘It’s here somewhere,’ he replied, searching through all of his jacket pockets.

‘I’m sorry, sir. Madam, if you can make your way to the aircraft. Sir, you’ll have to stay here for a moment.’

‘I’m not going without him,’ Fiona snapped.

‘Then the plane will leave without either of you on it,’ the woman’s voice retorted.

‘But, it’s our honeymoon!’ Fiona exclaimed, as tears started to stream down her face.

‘I’ll find it, don’t worry,’ Terence insisted, running at full pelt away from the desk.

A painful five minutes followed, as the woman at the desk gave her pitiful looks. The plane was not going to wait much longer.

‘Got it,’ Terence shouted from the distance. A minute later, red faced and puffy, he

handed the boarding pass and passport over to the woman.

Fiona held his hand, as they run towards the plane. Mexico, here we go.

‘I told you to wait,’ Fiona grumbled.

‘We can always try again on the plane. I’ve always wanted to do it on a plane,’ he added, with a nudge.

‘Is that all you think about?’ Fiona gasped, exasperated.

‘It’s you and me, babe. Just you and me now.’

It was strange, but something about that made her doubt for the first time. Was that all he wanted?

"BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 12, Last call..."

‘That’s us,’ squeaked Max.

I gave him a wink. ‘Told you it would be easy.’

First class in the hold amongst the suitcases; Hong Kong, and as many slant-eye females as we could service.

‘They love English; love big families,’ I said. ‘You wait, brother.’

Not that I had ever sneaked on board a BA flight, before. Nearest I got was a flight to Southend.

But I had experience, and Max lapped it up.

‘It’s cold,’ he said.

‘Yeah, that’s a downside, just relax. Twelve hours and we’re set up for life.’

‘It’s landed.’

‘Okay, Max, they’re not smart. Hide on the trucks and jump ship when I squeak.’

We found ourselves next to a dorm on the airport perimeter. Females in every hole, and giving us sly looks.

‘Fancy a massage?’ I said.

We were led into a trap. Next thing I knew we were in a glass cage. Looked like a restaurant; fingers were pointing at us.

‘We’re the cabaret,’ I said to Max, as a hand grabbed his tail and hoisted him out. ‘Told you they like big ones.’

I couldn’t wait for my stage appearance.

Some very creative pieces so far.... But I want more...... C'mon cloudies. wind up the rubber band and take a flight somewhere..... ...is that guy in the isle seat up there looking at his carry on bag again? That makes three times..... Did he look at his watch again? ..is that William Shatner on the wing near the engine?.............. Lottery....whoda thought.....67 million quid...... life starts now!....... well get on with it then......

"BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 12, Last call…"

‘Oh dear, that’s us’ said Gertrude struggling to raise herself from her seat. ‘I’ve been sitting too long’.

‘Now Gertie, take your time’ said Mary, having equal difficulty getting her limbs to obey her.

‘Where did I put my glasses?‘ said Gertie

‘On your head’.

They resembled a pair of 21^st century Miss Marples as they chattered and entered the plane. On landing, Gertie gathered her belongings together but as soon as she picked up one of her many small parcels she dropped another.

‘Thank you, that’s a gift for my goddaughter and that one’s for my nephew’ she said to the young boy who picked up her parcels.

She had won over her fellow passengers with her quaint charm and a group of them surrounded her as she made her way through baggage reclaim and customs, constantly picking up the small packages she dropped.

Once through customs, Gertie put her coat on, gathered up all her small packages and thanked her helpers.

‘Now, Mary, we need to go and see Charlie, same as usual after one of our trips to Amsterdam. I wonder what the street value of our parcels is this time?’

194 words

"BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 12, Last call....."

‘BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 12, Last call...’ the noise broke what was perfect silence. I looked around the white walled room, searching for where it came from.

‘Hello?’ I asked, my heart pounding through my chest and into my throat. The room as before was empty, no speaker, no chair and still no door.

I had been standing in the room for almost as long as I could remember. The accident now only a distant blur of forgotten detail and pain.

‘Hello?’ I asked again, hopeful of some reply.

‘BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 12, Last call...’ I was now tuned to where the noise came from, I swung around...

‘Hello, Timothy.’ Two Giant wings and the figure of something human stood before me. ‘Time to go back.’

I was unable to speak, to reply or even give a simple gesture to show I understood.

‘It will be different this time of course. You will not remember your past life, you will be reborn. This time will be a lot happier for you.’

A scream of pain seemed to make the room disappear as my head was squashed, squeezed then pulled.

‘I NEED MEDS!!! GET ME A FUCKING DOCTOR!!!’

‘Last call. BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 12.’

BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 17, last call ...

I yanked my seatbelt on, so much for fame and fortune in London. Sacked, fired - whatever you wanna call it. I was jobless.

From the day I joined the BBC, I’d been warned about this moment many, many times. Then my time came. The exact and inevitable moment of career suicide; whatever decision I made, I was fucked.

I recalled Li Lo Jo sashaying backstage at the Awards Ceremony.

I’d been given the coveted role of ‘escort’ to Ms Lopez – thanks to my uncle in the Ra. The job had been going swimmingly until I’d been attacked by a homicidal boom. As I dodged the blows, I tripped over my Ugg boots and hurtled towards Li Lo, managing to stop a split second before her 7 inch diamante heel stuck in stage interfacing bringing her to an immediate halt. Cowering in the shadow of her shimmering monster ass, I had a decision to make –

1) Help the lady and be beaten to death by meatheads OR

2) Stand and admire.

I’d seen ‘The Bodyguard’. I knew what those bastards could do. What the fuck do you think I did?

Ahhhh. Home sweet home.

That should have been

1) help the lady and be beaten to death by meatheads Or
2) Stand and admire.

don't know what went wrong there :0)

BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 12, last boarding call, please can Mr and Mrs Selby please make your way to boarding gate now

I looked at my husband and felt like a child again. We were racing through the thickening crowd, hands tight against his, as we headed to the plane.
We skidded to a halt at the desk before the door leading to the planes enterance and we both handed our passes over. The lady did not look impressed, but we were high on love and we just giggled, wished her a good afternoon and ran through the grey corridoors to the plane.
We recieved a sarcasti cheer and we boared, and so we bowed. In return we got one old man wave a fist at us (And there i was thinking that gesture had died out) And a giggle from a small child.
Every year since we got married, (5 years now) we've taken the time out of our lives to do something crazy.
Last year we cycled for a month and a bit across europe.
The year before that we climbed mount everest.
Before that we swam with sharks and dolphins.
This year however we're going to africa. We're volunteering to hand out rations, use our medical skills (Limited as they are) to help the young.
We sat down in our seats and smiled at each other with such love that it was painful to watch.
We were just taxiing when an aeroplane exploded mid-air and the last thing we saw was each others faces glowing red from the approaching inferno.

"BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 12, Last call....."

We kissed them goodbye, turned away, and marched off with heavy hearts to gate 12 for the 13:00 to Belfast.

"Don't look back," he said.

I didn't. But I could feel her love boring into the back of my head. I could have cried.

The flight took just over one hour but it felt like several. On arrival we went straight to the bar, ordered pints and chasers, started to talk about what we could do.

"You know what'll happen don't you?" he said

"Yes. Let's do it," I said.

We were back in London within three hours. When they opened the door and saw us standing there they froze, then laughed, then cried. This is true happiness I thought, gazing at her and shaking from lust and desire. We spent a month living as though we hadn’t known what pleasure was until then. Time was of no consequence. Two couples in love.

“Last night another soldier …” said the newsreader in clipped tones.

“We should go back,” he said.

He was right.

"BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 12, Last call....."

Military coppers, bristling, greeted us on arrival.

Some great entries so far....but half as many as last month. If you are waiting for the last minute to enter please bear in mind that I am a slow reader.

Last orders....Last orders at the bar........

When's the deadline? Can I sneak one in tomorrow morning? (Please)

Yes, But only if its good and your direct debit form clears.....

Deadline is midnight on Monday............

"BA flight 031 now boarding at gate 12, Last call....."

As usual, I can’t reach the luggage locker. A tall, thin man behind me takes my bag and hoists it up effortlessly. He has the window seat next to me. We sit and I thank him and he nods and then I can’t help explaining why I’m on the plane by myself.

‘Why on earth would you want to do that?’

‘The surprise will have more impact this way; I’m facing my fears, proving I’m capable.’

‘Admirable.’ The man rolls his eyes. ‘But I meant, why on earth would you want to surprise your husband on a business trip? Either he’ll be far too busy working or his “business” trip is a thinly disguised excuse to bonk his mistress without interruption. Either way, you’re not going to be welcome.’

The man reaches for his book, angles his body towards the window and starts to read. I realise I have just had a ‘Rachel’ moment. Remember, in that episode of Friends? The one where Rachel flies to Ross’s wedding in London to tell him she still loves him? And the Hugh Laurie character on the plane says what everyone else is thinking but is too polite to say? Come to think of it, this man beside me has a passing resemblance to Hugh Laurie.

But he has misunderstood. Unlike Rachel, I am flying towards this with my eyes wide open. And I didn’t say it would be a nice surprise.

(249 words, including opening)

Oops, just noticed word count is 200 words. Thought I was aiming for 250. Ah well...

Pleased with the quality so far.....just the quantity is a little less than expected.....