The Adventures of Jeremy – Part Four.

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Jeremy’s parents were having a frank discussion.

“What are we going to do about Jeremy?” His father asked.

“Why, dear, he’s only a boy full of imagination. There’s no real harm in him?” his Mother replied philosophically.

“That’s fine you saying that, but it wasn’t your bathrobe he stole and then dragged through the mud. I think you encourage him. You let him keep that pet rabbit. You should have made him release it back into the woods. You indulge him too much.”

“Oh, Dear. Can’t you remember being young yourself? Didn’t you have adventures? Climb trees? Look for buried treasure?”

“Yes, but I grew out of it and it’s high time Jeremy did too.”

“He’s only eight years old, for goodness sake! What would you have me do? Put him on a strict diet of boiled cabbage to curb his enthusiasm? Send him away to boarding school? As if we can afford that sort of thing.”

“No, I suppose not. I think we should both be a bit more watchful of him in future though. We can only guess what the little rascal’s going to get up to tomorrow on his school field trip.”


Jeremy woke the next day full of his natural exuberance and ecstatic at the thought of going to the seaside on his school trip, and blissfully unaware that his parents were watching him very carefully.

The school bus stopped at the entrance to the park where he lived, just like every normal school day, except this day, instead of everyone wearing their drab Navy and brown school uniforms, they were wearing clothes in a kaleidoscope of bright colours. Jeremy wore his favourite bright mustard coloured pullover, blue shorts and his lucky red hat. In his rucksack, his Mother had made him cheese and marmalade sandwiches, his favourite, and he had a bottle of blackcurrant squash. He liked to pretend he was drinking fine red wine, like the Knights of old, only he hadn’t managed to find anything that looked like a goblet or a flagon. Drinking out of an ordinary bottle was going to have to do.

As the bus pulled away with their little boy on it waving from the rear window, Jeremy’s parents couldn’t help worry about what he was going to get up to.

They were relieved when at five pm the school bus pulled up outside and Jeremy came running up to them. He was carrying something large in his hands.

“Look Mum!, Dad! I’ve found a magic rock!”.

Indeed, in his hands, he held a dark grey rock, the size of a cricket ball.

“I found this rock on the beach and the Teacher said it was a special type of rock, called an igneous rock.”

Just then, Jeremy tripped and the rock fell from his hands onto the concrete path and cracked in half, like an egg.

When he picked it up, he saw the rock was hollow but growing inside was a collection of purple and yellow crystals, glittering in the afternoon sun.

Jeremy looked up at his parents and said, “See, I told you it was a magic rock!”

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 24/February/2019


This story was inspired by the following word prompts:

Today’s prompt: rabbit, bathrobe, kaleidoscope

FOWC with Fandango — Ecstatic





Multiple Word Prompt Story – The Best Day Ever.

This story was inspired by the following word prompts:

To be honest with you, I wasn’t going to post it, because I think the story is far from exemplary, in fact, it is a bit rubbish and boring, but having gone to the trouble of writing it, I thought I would share it with you. It will show that all of us write rubbish sometimes.

The Best Day Ever

“Can you guess what day it is?” Said Patsy, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

Her brothers were frankly tired of it. Every year she was the same, leading up to the day and on the day itself she was totally impossible.

Paul shrugged his shoulders in a pretence at being nonchalant. “No, Idea. How about you Peter? Can you guess what day it is?”

Peter frowned before responding “It’s Wednesday isn’t it? What’s special about Wednesday?”

Patsy glared at them and ran out of their bedroom. They heard her run downstairs, no doubt to seek more accommodating company.

It wasn’t that they disliked their little sister, she was as cute as a button and good-natured. She just didn’t understand how irritating she could be, particularly at six o’clock in the morning.

They might as well start getting ready for school. They lived a fair way out of town so the school bus came for them bright and early, they were always the first to be picked up, at a quarter past seven every weekday morning.

At school, Peter and Paul were known as the terrible twins. Their behaviour was far from exemplary and they were frequently held back in detention.

“They’re not bad boys really” her Mother would say in their defence, “They’re just high spirited.”

Today they were on their best behaviour and they had promised faithfully not to tell their sister what their Mother had planned for Patsy’s Seventh birthday.

At breakfast no one said much, they wanted it to be a surprise. Patsy was allowed to have a bowl of sugar-coated corn flakes rather than the porridge oats they were forced to eat.

“Eat your oats, they’re good for you” Mother would cajole them.

“They’re cheap too” said Peter.

“And taste like sawdust” added Paul.

Father banged on the table. “Eat up and shut up. I’ll have no more table-talk this morning.”

His was always the last word spoken. The twins never pushed their father too far, his right arm was too strong.

A short time later the school bus pulled up at the end of the drive, the driver honked the horn. Depending on whether it was the nice one or the grumpy one would determine how long they had to get their things together and put their shoes on. If it was the nice one, they could take their time, but the grumpy one would count to ten and then drive off if he didn’t see them running down the drive. He’d driven off once and they’d never dawdled again. Looking out the window they saw it was the grumpy one so ran out of the door.

School seemed to drag more than usual. The twins were separated into different classes, that was after one incident where they nearly organised a riot, but they got together at break times. Patsy was in the Juniors, which was in a separate building. The Juniors were not permitted to mix with the Seniors.

When School finished usually Patsy would wait for her brothers and they would catch the school bus home together, but today something else was planned.

Peter and Paul came out of the seniors building and rushed over to where Patsy was playing hopscotch. Just as they got there, their Mother appeared at the school gates, she was waving frantically.

“Mummy, I knew you were going to do something for my Birthday,” Patsy said with great enthusiasm.

They walked into town and along to the church hall. Inside were all the children from Patsy’s class, her favourite teacher, Miss Nelson and her Auntie Jane and her daughter Penny. Penny was her best friend as well as her cousin, but she didn’t see her very often because they lived in the next county.

Having not given the secret away Paul and Peter were allowed to join in the games of pass the parcel and pin the tail on the donkey. They were too old really but they loved a game. Like a lot of boys, they never really grew up.

Then they brought out the birthday cake lit with seven candles and sang happy birthday. However, because that song is subject to copyright, they couldn’t sing the tune they all knew, but it didn’t really matter because they couldn’t sing in tune anyway.

Patsy opened her presents and had received lots of attention from her friends and Miss Nelson, she practically glowed.

It had been the best day ever.


The End – and I apologise for what is really a load of tripe. 

Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 19/September/2018