Jasp's Brick: Writings

The 'Writings'

Pickles

In a trench under bombardment. Two men remain alone, the rest of the unit are either dead or elsewhere. No weapons remain. Throughout the scene Man2 is eating Pickles.

Man1: Hah! They think they can repress us! But they don't count on one thing...
Man2: What's that!
Man1: Well we may not have guns, we may not have huge armies, we may not even have the best intelligence forces! But there is one thing we do have...
Man2: Pickles
Man1: What? What do you mean 'Pickles'?
Man2: We have pickles sir.
Man1: [Looking confused and disappointed that his speech has been interrupted]
Well...
Yes we have pickles, why did you suddenly decide to bring that up now?
Man2: Pickles, it's the one thing we've got.
Man1: What? ... No it isn't!
Man2: It is. We've got plenty of pickles
Man1: We have but it's not 'the one thing' we've got is it? [rhetoricaly] No the one thing we've got is...
Man2: Two things...
Man1: What?
Man2: Two things sir. We have pickles as well...
Man1: Well Pickles aren't exactly going to help us now are they...
Man2: We could eat them...
Man1: But that isn't going to do a lots of good in fighting off the enemy.
Man2: But we have them
Man1: Okay, we have pickles. But the one..
Man2: ...Two...
Man1: ...the TWO things we've got is...
Man2: ...are, it's plural.
Man1: [Exasperated] Okay the two things we've got are...
Man2: Pickles
Man1: and... dammit I've forgotten.
Man2: Then that's only one thing
Man1: Fine. [Now a little depressed. Without the power of the first sentence.]
Well we may not have guns, we may not have huge armies, we may not even have the best intelligence forces! [Man 2 eats last pickle] But there is one thing we do have, Pickles.
Man2: No we don't.
Man1: What? What do you mean.
Man2: I've eaten them.
Man1: [Groans and flops exasperated]

Low water grapes

It is said on occasions,
That we ought to eat more raisins,
For only dried grapes taste the way they do,
And to try and go snacking,
On hessian made sacking,
Will surely send your system out of true.

Dum Diddle Dee

One summers day in the middle of June,
I met an old man who was playing a tune,
Dum Diddle dee duddle dum diddle di,
Twas a sad old tune which made me cry.

It told of his tale of sorrow and woe,
A garden of flowers which just wouldn't grow,
He tried all sorts of tricks to get plants to flower.
Yet everything drowned in an April shower,

One summers day in the middle of June,
I met an old man who was playing a tune,
Dum Diddle dee duddle dum diddle doo,
A depressing dirge which left me blue.

His wife had a left him for a man of sure sense,
While his children were lost over the garden fence,
He searched all day in hope to find,
A way to improve his state of mind.

One summers day in the middle of June,
I met an old man who was playing a tune,
Dum Diddle dee duddle dum diddle dee,
On and on, oh it depressed me.

He told of a pub he used to know,
Where the travelers and villagers used to go,
Yet one winters eve the pub burnt to the ground,
All the beer supplies were never again found.

One summers day in the middle of June,
I met an old man who was playing a tune,
Dum Diddle dee duddle dum diddle dife,
A wondered for no happiness in his life.

He sang of a past so happy and free,
Which rapidly ended when he ran out of tea,
How he must have coped I just couldn't know,
A life without hot tea is no way to go.

One summers day in the middle of June,
I met an old man who was playing a tune,
Dum Diddle dee duddle dum diddle dong,
He said this old tune just wouldn't last long.

What's in a flower?

To say you can see
life's meaning in a rose,
Is as to understand
the Ocean from a drop,
To hear a symphony
in a single note,
Life is an interplay of meanings,
A rose is but one flower.

The search engine reveals all...

There are many questions that man has search long too answer and some answers he'll never find. Here at Jasp's Place we have attempted to answer just a few of these questions with the mystical power of the internet search engine. First up...

And here runs a short story

I arrived at my hotel room in the middle of a thunderstorm, when all the windows were lashed shut and the puddles danced with the many drops of rain. The storm was directly overhead and all the power was out, only the lights from my car illuminated the steps of the hotel. I had chosen the place as I was told it was haunted and I thought it would make my weekend more interesting by staying at a place with character. As the lightning lit the front of the house and it's windows resonated with the thunder I wasn't so sure.

I ran into the reception, sheltering my face from the rain and being careful to avoid the particularly deep puddles. Despite this I was dripping by the time I reached the lobby and was glad to remove my hat and coat to the nearby stand. I approached reception where a young woman was busy leafing through a reservation book next to the telephone. She looked up to greet me as I approached and I realised that she couldn't have been much older than eighteen.

"Hello, may I help you?" She asked.

"Yes. I phoned last week to reserve a room," I replied, wiping water from my eyes.

"Okay sir, may I have your name please," she said as she turned to a bookmarked page.

"Taylor," I said

"Thank you sir. You will be staying in room 6. It is still being cleaned at the moment, but should be ready in about ten minutes. If you go and wait in the lounge I'll send one of the maids in when it's ready."

I thanked her and made my way in the direction indicated and passed into a small lounge. The room consisted of a table and three chairs, one of which was facing an open fire, which reminded me very much of those which one may see in a country house. A heavily ornate mirror lay on one wall and reflected a painting on the wall by the door. A thin wisp of smoke rose up from behind the chair by the fire and from it I could hear someone reading a paper.

"Hello," I said, "Disgusting weather we're having," cringing at the cliché opening to our conversation. Fortunately, it was struck off with a crack of thunder as to prove my point and at that moment, the lights decided to turn back on, although they did little to light the room.

"Definitely," The voice replied, it was male though had no distinctive qualities.

"When's dinner served?" I asked, trying to see if I could elicit more than a few words in reply.

"Eight, although don't bother arriving then as they take an age before they actually get the food out. I usually arrive at quarter past," he said, laughing slightly.

"Oh, so you've been here before then?"

"Lots of time's," He replied.

"Then have you even seen anything?" I asked, quickly adding a laugh to hide the nervousness that crept into my voice, though I would have done better without it for it came out a pale snigger.

"What, Ghosts you mean," he laughed, "no never. On my first stay I saw an owl but that's about as exciting as it gets. Nothing odd here mate."

His laugh made me feel better and I relaxed and was able to have a further look around the room without constantly listening for ghostly footsteps. The walls were decorated in a thick though faded floral wallpaper and a Daido rail ran round the wall at waist height and presumably contained the wiring for a number of sockets were mounted in it. In one corner a small portable television sat in the corner on standby, emitting the faint glow that televisions always seem to produce at night.

"This owl you saw," I began.

"Yes," he laughed.

"Where was it? In your room?"

"No," He laughed again, as if to say I was being stupid, which I must admit I was, "At my window. Just swooped down and landed there it did. Wasn't scared of me at all, though frightened me half to death. Almost screamed." He sighed to himself and I could tell from his voice he was smiling.

"Well thanks for warning me about the kamikaze owls," I said, now fully at ease.

After a few minutes of silence, one of the maids entered the room and called me. "Mr Taylor, your room is ready now. You may collect the key from reception and go up there if you will." She left the room and I stood up to follow, as I did so I passed the mirror and out of the corner of my eye I caught the empty chair which was facing the fire.

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