Morgan Delaney

Dark, strange and fantastic fiction

Humour

Kinky Design Crimes

by

Architectural plans and buildier's tools. Someone means business!
Photo by JESHOOTS.com from Pexels

Hi all,

aaaaand I’m back! Here’s a light-hearted piece this week. I’m obviously refreshed after that break. Hope you–

Hang on!

oh god. Yes?

It says ‘Kinky’ up there at the top of the page.

Well? I will not be censored, I am an arti–

So is it durty?

Is it… what?

Durty! Durty! Is it a durty story?

Dirty?

Durty!

Well. A tad suggestive, perhaps.

Lads? Come on, it is durty!

Well, no. What I was attempting to capture was–

Shh! Reading.

Emil fingered the stubble on his jaw as the lady of the house continued to witter on. She was nervous. Was hoping they’d finish before her husband came back. He wasn’t listening, he never listened to his clients. He knew what they wanted. What they needed.  Something nagged at his subconscious. She was too nervous.

He let the strap of his bag slide through his fingers until his knapsack of tools thumped on the floor. He looked at her, shook his head. No more talking. He pulled out his spirit level, sighting along it from where he stood. Getting a feel for the room.
‘But…’ she started.
Emil shook his head again, twitched aside his jacket so she could see the badge on his belt. He was an Interior Decorator, and this was a crime scene. 

It wasn’t working, he couldn’t feel the room. He stood in front of the window, looked out and suddenly turned back again. To surprise the room. Instead, he surprised Mrs Whats-er-name, whose eyes jumped from his backside, encased in tight jeans. Emil pretended to ignore her, stalking through the room. Trying to get a fix on the starting angle, the genius locus of the room. The clue that would tell him what the room wanted to be. He brushed past her a few times, peeled off his shirt. The room wanted to play hard to get? No problem. He felt the wife’s eyes on his biceps, on his shoulders, but the room wouldn’t talk to him. Time was running out. He had no desire to be caught in flagrante by her husband, any more than she did. Get in, decorate, get out. That was his motto.

‘I think you’d better go,’ she said.
Emil turned in shock. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘This has never happened to me before.’ He knelt over his bag. Her eyes travelled up and down his body. He didn’t understand what was wrong. She wanted him to renovate, but he couldn’t…
He noticed the dust on the floor. This room had been empty for a while. How many other decorators had she lured here? There were his footprints tracing back and forth. Then he saw it. Another line of footprints. Obliterated in the middle of the room where he had crossed and re-crossed. They came from the door and went in a straight line to the wall beside the fireplace. Then disappeared. He straightened up. 
‘My husband will be back any minute,’ she said.
But Emil’s trained eye saw the telltale cracks in the wall. With an easy blow, he opened the secret compartment.
‘The husband, I presume?’ he said.
The man nodded, scared. ‘We didn’t mean any harm,’ he said. ‘We just…’
‘You like to watch,’ said Emil. He tutted. But the secret compartment was what he had needed. He had his inspiration.
He went to the woman. ‘Key,’ he said. 
She handed it to him. He tucked it into his pocket.
‘I’ll be back tomorrow. Same time. I will let myself in.’ He nodded to the secret compartment. ‘I don’t want to see either of you,’ he said and winked.

Oof! Is it me or is it suddenly hot in here?

This blog post was sponsored by Morgan’s Interior Decorating Services. Contact morgan@morgandelaney.info today for a quote!

Worm

by

Coffee cup and name badge
Photo by Allie Smith on Unsplash

Hi all,

networking, eh? Here’s a short story about that. And Sex and the City. Enjoy!

‘Hello. My name is— ’
Busy. Face looked familiar. Television? That ad? The loud one, where he shouts not to be a fool, invest with him?

I read a tip: if you’re in a room full of people and just standing against the wall, then go up to someone else standing at the wall and introduce yourself.
What’s Plan B if you’re the only one against the wall?
Ha! They’ll shoot me first when the revolution comes! As I’m already up against the wall. Ha.

I’m drinking water. I need coffee but what if it makes my breath bad and someone comes over? Coffee on a nervous stomach isn’t a good idea anyway. Makes me gassy.

I see Loud Man is a backslapper, whacking meat left and right.
Glad I was able to get rid of him. Ha.

I’m going for a walk. Maybe someone will say something as I pass and I can chime in. Come on! Somebody talk about Sex and the City! Series or film, I don’t mind.

My collar is itchy because I’m stressed, it makes my skin sensitive. But if I start scratching I won’t be able to stop.
What are they all talking about? I don’t know the names. I don’t recognise the subject.

I’ll hang around the refreshments table, people always need refreshments.
Hey you’re drinking water? Me too, hello! My name is—
Nobody comes over. Surely nobody knows who I am?

There’s someone coming.

‘Hi there!’ I stick my hand out. She shakes it, but it’s slippery. Her hand slips out of mine. ‘Juice?’ I say, looking at her glass. She shakes her head. ‘I’m—’ She’s gone, holding a finger up to signal she’ll be back. She won’t be.
Perfect place for a serial killer this. It’s impossible to give away your identity. Ha. The clock on the wall doesn’t seem to have moved at all. I give myself five minutes to talk to someone. If I can tell them my name that’ll count, okay? I move back to my wall, go the other way around to listen in.

Pass Mr Loud. And slap him on the back. It’s not a good slap, timid. But it gets his attention. He turns. There’s a split second when he can see me. And already his eyes are glazing over.
I slap him again. The people he’s with are all staring at me. Nobody slaps the Big Man, right? I have one second to do it.

‘Hello.’ My voice is calm and I’m not squeaking or quavering. ‘My name is Worm. I Am Death. Happy to meet you. Take your time, I’ll be waiting.’
There’s a hush around the room. I hear mobile phones buzzing in pockets.
‘So,’ I say. ‘Sex and the City. Who’s your fave character?’

I used to do a lot of networking, hopefully that comes across in the story (and the tips are useful?). But I’m not a Sex and the City fan. That’s where it becomes fiction…

Want more? Click here or check out the tag cloud at the bottom of the page

Hot Air

by

Yellow flowers. No, I don't know what they are.
Photo by Sergey Shmidt on Unsplash

Hi all,

another piece of writing prompt fiction for you. This one is slightly different. I took a random plot generated by https://www.plot-generator.org.uk/story-ideas/https://www.plot-generator.org.uk/story-ideas/ and gave myself 20 minutes to fill out a Save The Cat style beat sheet.

I think I got everything, let me know what you think.

You can find the original randomly generated plot prompt below the piece. But first, sit back and enjoy a story that probably won’t be coming to Disney Plus any time soon.

Reis is the fastest fairy in Turkey. And the smallest. His metabolism means he can’t eat much nectar without farting – an unforgivable insult among fairies. He prefers eating petals anyway. Weird!

In the opening scene he is excited about the upcoming school Sports Day and zips around performing stunts. At snack time he mumbles that he is full already and needs to practice more loop-the-loops. He flies into the forest to watch his friends laugh and play while he chews on a petal. Hasim, the school bully arrives. His friends laugh at Hasim’s jokes about “pipsqueak” Reis.

Reis has to get inventive about why he doesn’t eat so much. At school he pretends he has forgotten homework and has to miss lunch so people can’t see how little he eats. At home he dumps his nectar into the beak of Alekzummder, his pet hummingbird. During his big date with Selma he is so smitten that he actually eats nectar. Luckily Alekzummder is on hand to help cover up the ensuing commotion!

On Sports Day Reis slows down to give his friends a sporting chance. His coach is furious and says, “I see what you’re doing, Reis. You won’t get away with it forever.”

The nectar crop fails. Reis is as quick as ever but the others need the nectar for energy. Even Hasim is so slow that Reis dares to answer back to the bully. He is shocked when Hasim almost manages to catch him afterwards.

Reis feels bad about his friends suffering while he is okay. But as a “pipsqueak”, what can he do? When he sees Hasim speeding home when he thinks no-one is watching, he decides to follow him.

Hasim has found a field where the flowers are not affected and there is plenty of nectar. He is gorging himself. Reis tries some to make sure that it really is nectar, then stuffs his pockets and satchel to take it back to the others. He plans to dump it outside the school as he is still embarrassed about not needing nectar himself.

Hasim discovers nectar is missing and has no difficulty following Reis, who is farting from the nectar he tested. Hasim gets close enough to taunt Reis and a high-speed chase ensues. When Reis takes a shortcut through a tree trunk that Hasim is too big to fit through he thinks he has gotten away.

But Hasim has not given up. He catches up while Reis is waiting in the treeline for a chance to drop off the nectar, unseen. Hasim tells Reis there is a mistake, they shouldn’t be enemies. The two of them are very similar: they do not eat like the other fairies. Reis farts and rather than being offended Hasim promises to keep it a secret in return for Reis keeping his secret.

Reis is ashamed at the unintended insult and is even grateful to Hasim for promising not to mention it. He follows Hasim back to the field to return the nectar he “stole”.

On the way Hasim tells Reis that his friends think he is a “pipsqueak” anyway. Reis recognises the moment he witnessed and realises that his friends were being manipulated: like he is being manipulated now. He determines to bring the nectar to his friends after all.

He throws some nectar and Hasim dives after it. Reis is off, faster than ever. But Hasim is fast too, supercharged by years of nectar, despite his lazy attitude. To prevent his secret stash being discovered Hasim gives it everything he has and he might even be faster than Reis! But Reis is the better navigator and manages to burst into the clearing where his friends are barely alive. Reis tosses the nectar into the air and it floats down into their open mouths. Success!

The final image is Reis flying around his friends as they head off for a snack. The fairies eat their nectar, while Reis proudly munches on a petal. They finish and all of them fly straight up into the air afterwards: propelled by farts and giggles.

The prompt was: “The hero is a fairy from Turkey who is destined to save the world. The nemesis is a fairy who eats too much. The hero gets the upper hand using brains and brilliance.”