Saturday, December 7, 2019

Failing forward

The plastic bottle bounced off the wall.

‘Fuck!’

‘Are you okay,’ Julie asked.

‘Do I look okay? I just died. Painfully.’ Josh pointed to the stage.

‘Are you kidding me? They thought you were hilarious.’

‘Except it wasn’t a comedy! He’s lost his job, his wife, his house. Even his dog hates him!’

‘Well, no-one noticed. It seemed perfect.’

‘It was an unmitigated disaster! It was meant to illicit sympathy not sniggers.’

‘Josh!’ The company director boomed. ‘Who knew you had it in you? Pathos, wit, timing.’

‘You liked it?’

‘Loved it! What’s it called?’

‘How to fail forwards.’


A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.

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