by Christine
MAIN MALE CHARACTER
Name: John
Age: 37
Occupation: Fitter and turner
Likes: women, work, beer and motorcars
Dislikes: Tax department, cops, school teachers and whingers
Something else about him: he is not over fond of children, nevertheless, has seven
MAIN FEMALE CHARACTER
Name: Bessie Bolton
Age: 53
Occupation: Fruit seller
Likes: a drink of beer
Dislikes: people who smoke
Something else about her: she is very good hearted
A PLACE
Be fairly specific: Busselton
GENRE OF STORY
i.e. is it a romance, a mystery, a western, a science fiction, a fantasy, a thriller, a comedy or something else?
Science fiction
WHO IS THE AUDIENCE?
Are you writing for children, young adults or adults? adults
AND JUST FOR FUN ….
Pick
a colour: yellow
something to eat: stir fry
an item of clothing: knee-hi stockings
an animal: dog
* * * * * * *
An unexpected flash of lightning lit up the workshop for a moment. John, who was welding, glanced up in surprise. His heart rate increased, he salivated and licked his lips ... could it ....would it ....be possible that his interplanetary girlfriend was on her way? He put his tools down and casually lit a cigarette. That would draw her out, she hated the smell of tobacco. He was right. After barely one puff the offending cigarette was snatched away and Bessie Bolton's elegant and oh so luscious figure materialised before his eyes. She looked absolutely fabulous for a fifty three year old. John grimaced; he at only thirty seven, did not cut as good a figure as Bessie at fifty three. Well, not all his fault. His thirty seven years were earth years while Bessie's age was defined according to the Moorb time. Life on the planet Moorb moved in the fast lane.Bessie in the meantime had thrown her arms around John's neck, gave him a lingering kiss and pressed her abdomen against his slight beer belly.
"Aw, don't do that, love ... you'll make me too excited. You'll want to see the kids first, won't you?"
Bessie sighed and let go of him. "Sure do," she said and with that turned and stepped into the gloomy corridor leading to the house. John hitched up his jeans and eagerly followed her. The bright yellow knee socks she wore seemed to light up her diamond patterned hotpants. Sweat broke him out and he licked his lips once more. His! Yeah, all his for a whole week.
Pandemonium broke out in the recreation room when they arrived. All seven hybrid-children rushed to welcome Bessie. Shrieks and howls, tears and laughter, the dog barking, the parrot screeching, the robot flashing his red alarm. John, shaking his head, leaned against the door jamb watching the happy reunion. The dog came and sat on John's feet, panting. He too looked happy. After a few minutes, losing patience John looked at the robot and shouted, "Stir fry in thirty minutes, Max!" Max now flashed his green light and removed himself at speed towards the food preparation area. Stir-fry, of course, since Bessie gave 'fruit seller' as her profession. Fruit and vegetables were daily on the menu in her earthy home as well as on Moorb. And it paid off. Not a wrinkle spoiled Bessie's face, not an ounce of fat spoiled her figure.
Dinnertime was noisy and messy. Bath time was even noisier and messier. By the time the last of the hybrids was kissed goodnight and safely tucked under her doonas both John and Bessie were ready for a can of beer.
John's hand trembled as he gave Bessie a slight slap on her diamond patterned behind.
"Can't wait to get those yellow knee socks off you, my love ... Let's go and make our hammock swing like it never swung before."
"Oh John," squealed Bessie, "You earthmen are amazing, always ready to serve your women folk, not like on Moorb where we have to crank up our men before action."
"Like the old fashioned motor car, eh," laughed John, "No such trouble here, love, your very own earthman runs on beer and performs very well on it! What say we try for number eight, keep the tax department off our backs and profit off the baby bonus once more?"
Bessie was all for it, if it was left to her, she and John would double the population of Busselton by themselves.
* * * * * * *