Last Week at Elephant Words

Over the following six days, six writers took turns to write pieces inspired by it. Those pieces were as varied as the writers writing them. Here are excerpts from those posts - to read the whole thing click on the story's title.

Monday saw Rivka Jacobs telling us a story of creeping dread:
Shadow Figure

I saw her every day, sometimes twice a day, for the last two years. The “street lady,” or the “crazy lady” or the “bag lady” as she was called, moving in a direction opposite me, pushing her grocery cart loaded with what must have been her treasures.

She was a dusky blur on the sidewalk, a thing I had come to accept and slip unremarkably into my subconscious as I drove past, glancing at her for a few seconds.

Wednesday found Nicolas Papaconstantinou in the pub, discussing perception and quantum physics with two old friends and an enigmatic stranger:
All At Once One Thing And The Other
(This story contains mature language throughout.)

Harris Pax is already two drinks in when Jonni Sood arrives in a bluster.

You alright? – says Harris Pax, as Jonni throws his coat across the back of a seat.

Jonni Sood raises a hand to his friend, indicating that nothing will be said before a drink is in hand.

You alright? – says Harris Pax again, when Jonni is fully situated, drink in hand.

Jonni Sood takes a long swig of his drink, and visibly settles into his chair.

Alright? – says Harris Pax, a grin shaping his lips.

Mm. – says Jonni Sood, then – Just a bit of a weird walk down, is all.

Weird how? – asks Harris.

Oh, it… nothing. – Jonni looks at the barmaid across the pub. She is hot, by his reckoning, and suddenly the next thing coming out of his mouth not sounding insane seems politic.

Wednesday walked in on Andrew Cheverton, fooling around with dramatic expression:
JESSICA MONSTER is coming!

Today is the day that Jessica comes back to town.

Today is the day that Billy Wisdom hides in Clapham’s Bar,
thinking of the time that he teased Jessica about her weight.

He can feel the boards of the floor tremble as she approaches.

The foam on his beer trembles.

Billy Wisdom trembles.

Today is the day that Jessica comes back to town.

Today is the day that Monica Treelight sits in her front room,
wishing she’d moved house since Jessica left.

Now Jessica knows just where to find her.

Nothing will stop Jessica.

Nothing at all.

Thursday stumbled into Schmurgen Jonerhaffs, who took it with dignity, and told it the story of...
The Day we stole the Shopping Troletys
Much of which can't be reprinted here, for reasons of spoilerness, and mature language.

That is not all he has in common with the main charcter from Memento, though. He also has tattoos on his thighs. He has a beard. I can’t remember if the character from Memento has a beard.

Friday was a dame, that walked into Ian Sharman's office, and begged him to take...
The Case of the Forgotten Two

She’d walked into my office an hour ago, telling me they’d gone missing, asking for my help in tracking them down. It was late, and I’d been ready to call it a night, but with legs like that, how could I say no? I was tempted to do the job for free, because all sense goes out of a man’s head when he’s talking to beautiful woman, but the grumbling in my belly reminded me that I hadn’t eaten a decent meal in days, and besides, this lady could obviously afford my fee.

She threw a couple of grainy photographs onto my desk, stills from a car park security camera. She hadn’t needed to, I knew their type. I’d seen them a million times on street corners, huddled and forgotten, the throwaway trash of modern consumer society.

And Saturday found itself down on its luck, and Cynthia Lugo had a thing or two to say about that:
Like a Rolling Stone

It’s midday and there are a handful of customers around. Not enough to get in my way but enough so the employees won’t notice me. I need to eat. The cigarettes I stole a few days ago only fill my stomach for so long. It’s gotten to the point now where I swallow the smoke down and dry heave it back up.

I keep my jacket clean so I can cover myself and look presentable. I turn it inside out before lying down to sleep. I am very careful. I stopped going to school because the other kids started to notice that I haven’t changed my clothes, and I think I’m starting to smell sour. A different kind of smell than just dirty or sweaty.

If you enjoy these stories, please do comment on the site, or why not try your hand at writing something inspired by the image yourself?