Six Sentence Stories is a weekly writers’ challenge hosted by Denise at Girlie on the Edge blog.
Join us and take part in the form here. This week’s cue word is: Season
The Thief’s Vacation
My Summer season has ended and the crowds have gone home, and I – relieved at last of a Broadway presence and lines by-heart learned, reintegrate myself into society as much as an esteemed stage actor enjoying a September holiday in Monte Carlo can.
My summer season may have ended, but tourists and the press still linger like lucky jackals making circles of a prey they wish to devour, before the sun sets and gathers up our shadows and wishes for the day.
Sir, may I have your autograph – a quick word for the readers back home – can we have a photograph – hey there’s a private party tonight, famous faces and phrases you will have heard in society magazines – royalty in attendance – and everything nicely slotted-in for tomorrow morning’s papers.
By 3am I’m as drunk as a lord in an aura of adoration, perfume and cigar smoke, with a starlet on each arm and an entourage trailing behind us of foot soldiers marching in suits and frocks to that famous casino you will read about in tomorrow morning’s news…
But… alas… I awake to the sobering reality that I am still in my box at a four star hotel in New Jersey; that I have once again been subjected to those recurring dreams seemingly burnished into my ventriloquial head at the moment of creation by my talented master… my master – who sleeps soundly upon the hotel bed in silk pyjamas, while I climb from my box still attired in last night’s costume of pinstripe blazer and straw boater.
Pitter-patter go my feet as I approach him, my little hand peeling back his sheet to shake softly his shoulder, my unblinking eyes still wet from the dew of cursed dreams as I study his peaceful face – and my mouth, hanging open there, to spill words between wooden teeth painted white as stone tablets… and how I both love and despise my master in this moment of time, and wish to decry his cruelty in creating me… but the only words I utter are: “It’s time to rise and shine, Monsieur Magnifique, and begin our rehearsals for tonight’s rich pickings.”
The Thief’s Vacation micro-story by Ford 24 June 2021
The Thief’s Vacation artwork – Palais Princier de Monaco photos, clipart and digital render by Ford
Read more about Petit Pierre and Monsiuer Magnifique here and here
A great little window on your Petit Pierre character, Ford; but now I have his painted fixed-grin smile firmly planted in my head. I better shake it out before bedtime. 😉
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Thanks, Chris. Yes, even when he’s feeling a bit ‘human’ he’s still the stuff of nightmares!
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Very visual very good
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Thanks, UP 🙂
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A marionette with dreams of grandeur. A delightful viewpoint! So creative. Bravo!
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Thanks, Susan. Funny, he was meant to be still on his cruise ship stealing jewellery, then I ended up doing a kind of prequel thing with him and his dreams.
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Very imaginative!
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Wonderfully descriptive and a reminder that puppets have feelings too! Nice one.
My Six!
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Thanks, Keith. Yes, a little prequel to his cruise adventures I think, to show a slightly ‘human’ side to him.
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Makes me wonder who’s actually animating the puppet while the puppeteer is asleep. Is this a relationship with no strings attached? Great writing.
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Good one, Doug 🙂 thanks. I think at times they’re both pulling one another’s strings.
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Lovely stuff my friend, especially love the line – “to spill words between wooden teeth painted white as stone tablets beautifully descriptive! I’ll be honest, I have always been creeped out by dolls and mannequins ever since I was a little ‘un, your story was perfect nightmare fuel!! 🙂
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Thanks, Bruce 😎 Same here, I had a ventriloquist doll as a child one Christmas (what was my mum thinking!!) and it was just creepy as…
Clowns too, and to an extent some dolls… nightmare fuel is a perfect description lol.
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Yeah, ventriloquist dolls are hellish! it’s the dead eyes of dolls and mannequins that ultimately freak me out, they just blankly bore into your soul… creeeeeepy! 🙂
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Well done, Ford
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Thank you Tref 😎
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Poor wee soul, I almost feel sorry for him…
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Thanks, CE.
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“Dios mueve al jugador, y éste, la pieza.
¿Qué Dios detrás de Dios la trama empieza de polvo y tiempo y sueño y agonías? ”
(God moves the player, and he, the piece.
Which god behind God begets the plot of dust and time and dream and agonies? ) J.L.Borges
🎩off!
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Thanks dear Wizard!
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Whilst I was a performer in my younger days the act I worked in was offered an all expenses paid Summer Season contract at a large well known holiday camp in the south of Wales…does that count as grandeur? Great writing as always and entertainers do have dreams like these now and then.
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Very true I think, FT. In my last UK band we were courted by Sony Records at one point – it didn’t work out, but that along with some other big factors at the time led us to believe something might happen. Fun days.
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But what happens when he lies?
(Funny, the near unanimity of reaction to the notion of a wooden puppet with volition. Not that we’re prone to such flights of fancy, but surely this aversion to makeshift Men is an un (or maybe sub) conscious reaction to the persistence of the idea of deities. All-powerful, out of reach…given to pulling strings)
If you cut us, do we not produce sawdust?
Favorite line: “…my unblinking eyes still wet from the dew of cursed dreams“
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Good points, Clark. He (along with his master) have the legs to keep us entertained for a good while (along with emptying the wallets of the audience after show). But at some point this double act has to cease, and what then for a puppet with volition? Maybe we’ll see exactly how he bleeds. And his master, the creator, with true magical powers, yet controlled by his own creation?
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The funny thing is I was getting all tense with expected violence, but no. So an even better twist. Phew and well done!
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Thanks, Mz Avery. Yep, hard for me to imagine (at least at this point in their double act) of any violence between them…. but… maybe later… one of them might crack…
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Excellent buildup, V. By sentence 5 I was beginning to feel uncomfortable and by #6? My god, you totally sent the Creepometer into the red zone with “Pitter-patter go my feet” and… “my little hand peeling back his sheet”.
The entirety of Sentence 6 was top shelf horror. Well done! 😱
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Thanks, D, so happy it hit the mark! Was very pleased with sentence #6 😈
As Chris and Spira pointed out previously about not wasting good characters – I don’t think we’ve seen the last of Monsieur Magnifique & Petit Pierre…
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I hope not!
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Such a wonderful variety of SSS we have been blessed with this week! You made this so easy to visualize in every way. I guess I may have been one of those rare children that were not creeped out by puppets. What a great buildup as to who was speaking. A masterful piece indeed.
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Thanks so much, Pat. Glad you’re not freaked out by puppets, quite rare I’d say as most folk are, along with clowns and dolls adding to the creepy factor.
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I almost thought he was going to hurt his master! Puppets have feelings too. I feel sorry for him! Great story!
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Thank you so much, Shweta. Glad you appreciated this little backstory of Petit Pierre, as I was trying to show an almost ‘human’ side to him 🙂
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And you definitely succeeded at pulling that off. Great job!
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😊
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Reminds me a bit of the Frankenstein story. Humans were created in the image of G-d, when fallen man creates life in his own image, it’s a frightening result.
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Excellent, Mimi, I like the image of Frankenstein here, and agree it’s a frightening result.
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Uargh, well, thanks for that 🙂
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Petit Pierre passes on his thanks for reading 🙂
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Merci, je pense ??
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Oui, dit oui! Pitié (otherwise he will torture me – again!)
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[…] Read more about Petit Pierre and Monsieur Magnifique here, here and here […]
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