Humourous. 
CREEPY scary for sure.
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Thanks. Yes it tends to use horror in a more âwhat do YOU think happened?â way than throwing gore and blood in your face. Always better, I feel, though I have written stories that do the literal horror thing. I do feel something thatâs hinted at and leaves you to make up your own mind is scarier than laying it all out in front of the reader. Example of the latter:
The thing that stood before her was surely not human, at least, not in any way that mattered any more. Blood, brains and gore leaked out of the shattered skull, yet eyes from which life should have long fled stared at her with malevolent purposeâŠ
Example of the former:
Moving quietly, carefully, she reached the top of the stairs and squinted into the darkness. What she saw made her catch her breath, take one step back in horror. She realised the discarded rollerskate was there only as she stepped on it and, arms flailing for purchase, pitched forward into the dark, down into the waiting arms of the spectre at the bottom of the stairs.
It is an example, however, also, of how for me, my stories can always be improved. I realise now that Carsten, having gone through such an ordeal, would not be grumping. Itâs the wrong word, too bland. Maybe grunted or grated, or even shivered might be better. Oh well.
I once read that after having written your story, poem, novel, put it away for a week or so, then go back and read it over. Do not sent it off before then. Thatâs when youâre likely to find there are parts that need improving. Iâve made that mistakeâsent off writings before setting them aside for a while, then read over. I have posted (mostly humorous) story poems about experiences with having the neurological disorder Essential Tremor that Iâm now embarrassed about. I canât get to them on the E T forum to revise. An Aussie woman acquaintance & man mailed a plaque to me praising my poetry. 
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By the way, I try to use as few words as possible to keep my story going more quickly, which can make it tougher to come up with an exact descriptive word for whatâs going on.
Iâm the very opposite. Never shut up, never use one word where 100 will do. I tend to expand my narrative, often too much, but I really enjoy writing and itâs hard to cut stuff out, though I often do. I learned a certain amount of discipline through forums where youâre challenged to write a story on a topic in less than 70, 100 or 1000 words. You really get to see whatâs extraneous, and how to say things in other ways that use less words. Another example of one of those would be this one, where we were given certain words (five, I think) to use in the story, still keeping it down to 100 words. I struggled with the last word, champion, till I came up with this.
If the hat fitsâŠ
(94 words)
Elsie has never been inside the tiny shop; itâs well hidden, and for good reason.
She enters, old bones creaking.
Eventually the shopkeeper looks up.
âHelp you, grandma?â Not a trace of Yorkshire in his accent.
âIâm after a⊠special hat?â
Shopkeeper nods.
âExpensive,â he warns her. âYou can pay?â
She nods. âMy life savings.â
She takes the hat, puts it on.
Dizzy. Disoriented. Someone reaches out to steady her.
âAll right, lass?â
Elsie looks down at her nineteen-year old body.
âOh aye, lad,â she smiles, âIâm champion, me.â
Elsie entered the tiny, strange hidden shop.
Bones, old, creaking.
The shopkeeper craftily looks up.
âHelp you, grandma?â he asks, lacking Yorkshire accent.
âIâm after a⊠special hat?â
Shopkeeper nods.
âExpensive,â he warns. âYou can pay?â
She nods. âLife savings.â
She puts on the hat.
Becomes dizzy. Disoriented. He steadys her.
âAll right, lass?â
Elsie looks down at her nineteen-year old body.
âAye, lad,â she smiles, âIâm champion! See?â
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Budgies
Budgies are cute but strange birds of which there are two categories. The family pet type and the aviary type. When choosing one as a pet itâs worth bearing in mind that popular opinion says a male bird makes a much better talker than a female. A welcome trait with men because it helps even up the balance when heâs owned by a married couple. For whatever reason, most people have male birds.
The training period.
They bite a bit during the rigorous training course that they have to go through when first befriended by a well meaning human. Yanked away from their mothers feathered bosom at the age of six weeks, itâs no wonder. The dear little thing just hasnât realised how lucky he is yet. Anyway, I expect weâd bite if a giant finger was stuck persistently under the chest and then we were driven mad by a voice telling us how pretty we are over and over again. The first couple of times might be quite flattering but after that itâs sure to be a bit wearing.
Temperament.
No two budgies are alike in personality. Some like to be friendly and make the best of life whilst others are always on the attack and have a lust for human blood. The latter usually draws blood from an offered finger but may also take it from the noses and ears of those brave or foolish enough to put their parts within striking distance.
The names we give budgies can range from an evil âTalonâ to a sloppy âBeautyâ. Itâs hard to tell how a birdâs personality will develop in the early stages so a âTalonâ type might have been given the name of âBeautyâ or vice versa and nobody can be bothered to rename it later. Itâs best to treat all budgies with initial caution no matter what itâs called.
Letâs assume an average type of bird. Thatâs one which isnât the budgie from hell nor is he heaven sent. For this reason lets give him the arbitrary name of Smudgie. So there we have him âSmudgie the budgieâ. Smudgie quickly learns that heâd better start faking pleasure and gratitude or he might not get his millet spray and budgie nibble. He soon has you convinced that he actually enjoys putting his head under the bell and knocking the stuffing out of a plastic effigy of himself.
Getting his own back.
Heâll exact revenge for his captivity when he can. So long as the mischief he creates is balanced out with the odd cute trick he can get away with murder. Typical âin cageâ subversive activities are:-
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Causing unnecessary expense by destroying the sanded sheet, turning it into a pulpy dropping infested mess around the water pot.
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Seeing how far he can throw seeds across the room.
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Trying to commit suicide by jamming his head between the bars and, with fading vision, joyfully watching you panic.
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Making a dreadful squawking noise while the tellyâs on and not taking any notice whatsoever of all the threats of death and mutilation.
Launch time.
Once Smudgie tames down a bit, or shall we say resigns himself to his lot in life, the time comes to let him have a fly around the room. The first thing he does is make a bid for freedom by flying at the speed of a bullet into a closed window. The fact he and the glass survive this is a minor miracle. It seems that nature must have made a budgieâs head that nice dome shape just so it could be used as a battering ram occasionally (and to fit nicely under the bell). When Smudgieâs had enough of being on a learning curve heâll usually bat into the wall, slide down and end up behind the sofa with his wings at all angles. The stars and planets revolving around his head are almost visible.
Damage.
Donât worry heâs tougher than Rambo. He will quickly recover and learn how to live in his new environment without further damage âŠto himself that is! It wonât be long before that sharp beak gets to work on peeling the wallpaper and gnawing the furniture in places where it wonât be immediately noticed. He leaves little markers all over the place that will remove the polish from tables and he never seems to get the message by having his nose rubbed in it (as with a dog).
Careful now!
Once all these teething (or beaking) troubles are overcome, or at least come to terms with, a budgie makes an amusing and lovable pet. From then on you must be careful where you sit down, where you walk and how you close the door. If a crunching noise is heard during any of these actions itâs likely that youâll end up going to the pet shop to âperchesâ another budgie. Then it will be necessary to embark on the training programme all over again. Add to this the difficulty of getting the kids to understand that you just didnât see Smudgie playing on the sofa right where you decided to flop down and youâll wish to heaven that youâd never bought him in the first place. A flat envelope can be used for the burial when accidents of this nature occur.
Never make the mistake of thinking that the love you feel for him is mutual. At the first opportunity Smudgie will seek out that open door or window and fly south towards Portsmouth and warmer climes. Contrary to popular opinion he wonât be grateful to fly back to the cage left in the garden. He would, it seems, rather die young whilst enjoying a short spell of freedom. R.I.P Smudgie. Such is the life of the family type bird.
Breeding stock.
Youâd think that a more natural and happier environment for a big butch male budgie would be in an aviary with lots of other budgies. After all, many other of itâs male contemporaries have been carted off to be lovable pets. The chaps that are left ought to be in for a good time as stud budgies. Not so. Careful examination of the birds reveals that some of them, both male and female, are minus claws.
Itâs hard to understand but claw munching is favourite method of attack for them. One will sidle up to another bend over and calmly proceed to chew an opponents claw off. Surprisingly the recipient, who may already be numerically challenged in the claw department, just stares blankly at the attacker and merely sidesteps a few paces. What a pathetic response for an intelligent bird! Thereâs no big dust up with feathers flying and the other budgies looking on squawking the budgie equivalent of âbundle!!â.
Laughing stock.
The wimp bird should realize that if this were to continue it would have nothing to grip the perch with. How ever will it satisfy that awkward itch at the back of the head without claws? As for standing, the best it could do is to plant itâs remaining stumps in the soft earth at the bottom of the aviary. Then it would get bombed from a great height by those above who, no doubt, would take great delight in the sport. That would be very demoralising to say the least.
Clearly budgies must get on well enough at most times or the population would diminish but equally clear is the fact that itâs a hierarchical rat race in there. A budgie needs to stay on itâs toes if itâs going to keep them. Surely birds that are bright enough to tow little carts along and propel biscuit tins along by walking inside them ought to be able to come to democratic decisions on behaviour over perching rights etc,.
Just because one male budgie swipes anotherâs bird, or a hen prefers a different fellow (delicately put) thatâs no reason to resort to this extreme version of foot fetishism. They should talk things over. Budgies are supposed to be good at talking arenât they?
Baldie budgie.
An aviary of budgies nearly always has amongst their number one that is bald almost to the point of being oven ready. The reasons for this are manifold. It could simply have some horrible disease that makes itâs feathers fall out. Maybe itâs an exhibitionist and likes to parade itâs naked body in front of the hen birds in a âwhat you see is what you getâ sort of attitude. Perhaps itâs a 'well âardâ bovver boy budgie that âdonât wear fevvers no matter what the wevverâs like mateâ. One thing it can be sure of is that no one will ever choose it as a pet. Possibly it decides on a featherless existence for this very reason. Who can tell what goes on in that funny dome shaped head. We probably donât make much sense to them either and itâs likely that they spend hours trying to fathom out our strange antics from their side of the bars.
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Brilliant MartâŠI think Iâll stick with a catâŠAt least, they make their attitude very clear from the startâŠ
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