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100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups - #39: …….I’m exhausted. Shut the door behind you….….

This week's challenge is a this very straight forward prompt.…."I’m exhausted. Shut the door behind you…."

That Was The Week That Was

Central London, two men sit in arm chairs.

“Bloody hell, what a week that was”


“I have no idea how we got through it”


“Well, you.”


“Radio, newspapers, TV. That mad woman, Dorries, Jeremy Hunt, both Murdoch’s, a grouchy judge, economy in recession. Far right and moderate left winning big in France. Worlds gone mad.”


“More soldiers dying in Afghanistan. The wettest drought on record……….”

“I know.”

“Tomorrow, you have 17 appointments only. So we’ll have time to run through your reshuffle plans."


“You don’t sound that keen”

“I’m exhausted. Shut the door behind you as you leave.”

“Yes, Prime Minister.”



  1. Wonderful! I'm sure he feels just like that on most days at the moment! Thanks for joining us!

  2. We were thinking along similar lines this week; although mine is a little more what I'd like to happen rather than real life...
    Love it :)

  3. It must be the worst job there is.... The pressure, the stress... and no matter what you do, the whole country thinks they could have done better.

  4. Many thanks for your comments. I'm really enjoying the variety of challenges being set by #100WCGU!

  5. Good idea. You can't blame him for being what didn't even sound rude..... Well done.


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100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups – #66: The silence was deafening

It's good to be back. Here is the entry for Week 66 of the 100 Word Challenge using the prompt

…. the silence was deafening…..

The lost art of the kiss

OK here's the thing. At about two in the morning the thought struck me. No one kisses any more. Well, that's a bit harsh, everyone kisses. In fact everyone kisses everyone. That's part of the problem. Whether it's the Ladies Who Lunch and their coutured, coiffured air-kissing, bise-trois is de riguer these days, or slebs kissing each other for another pap-snap - Madonna and Britney anyone? - it seems that everyone is at it. A peck on the cheek, a smack on the lips, a tongue thrust here and there. I blame those continentals myself. Over there even the men kiss each other. Oh good grief.

Let me confess. At two in the morning when the thought struck me I was looking at the most luscious pair of lips imaginable. Jolie-esque in their bee-stung magnificence, this mouth belonged to an improbably proportioned young lady who is a member of that elusive club, the Dark Angels of Society. We had actually been talking for some time about matters carnal, sharing tips and comparing no…


Whenever the doors slid open I could hear the echoes of feet on marble and the rumble of the escalators. People always came and then stopped. I imagined they looked around, across the sea of desks, trying to work out where to go. Nowhere was signposted. “Third desk after the redhead” or some such description, then I heard them wander off into the noise.

What a noise. There was always the hum. Air-conditioners blew under every desk keeping the machines cool. Message alerts would ping, bong and tweet as some market somewhere hit some target. If things got tasty I might hear someone shout “Cable at 35” and then the immediate response “Nailed it”.

Of course there was the incessant chatter full of bloated fantasies “….blah blah yacht blah blah…” and foul intentions “…she would, I know she would….” And when people were close enough to me I heard their whispers and insecurities, their needs and wants. These were unpleasant humans.

Not everything was chaotic. At 7am the Voice of God, or the Chi…