Friday Fictioneers: Obsessions

Well last weeks FF took it out of me a bit, and i didnt write anything all week, so its time to get back into the saddle and who could motivate me to do so? Well it’s Rochelle of course. Keeping all ship shape and heading towards the horizon, I’ll also thank Liz Young for the photo, a food conundrum, one which I shall sleep on first, so first…


On My Marks…

Get Set…



2 maybe 3 weighty staccato bangs on the door.

The Hippy roused himself from the sofa, a cup and a saucepan fell to the floor, the contents carelessly oozing into the so-called “Glug-rug”.

Bull-man, a tracksuit, a logo filled the door,

“You’ve got an hour sunshine. Clear out. (fucking hoarders, all the same)” he whispered

“Dave, you’ve, theres someone here man”


“This time will be different” spoke Dave, to no one. Hoarding was behind him, despite having an empty house to fill.

“From now on No food of primary colour shall pass my lips”

There was no plan, until the next eviction.

There we are 100 words about obsession, eviction and mental health all rolled into a neat little package.


  1. Dear Shrawley,

    Well there are oranges. Not a primary color. Nor is purple cabbage. Interesting insight into the mind of a hoarder. We used to live next door to one. Unbelievable.




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