Six Sentence Stories – The Thief’s Vacation

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 autographa quick word for the readers back homecan we have a photographhey there’s a private party tonight, famous faces and phrases you will have heard in society magazinesroyalty in attendanceand 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


41 comments

  1. “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!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. 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.

    Liked by 1 person

    • 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.

      Like

  3. 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

    Liked by 1 person

    • 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?

      Like

  4. 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! 😱

    Liked by 1 person

  5. 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.

    Liked by 1 person

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