Short Story 5: Gossip

Such a brouhaha across the street at the Eagle Arms two nights ago. Saw it all from my window. You heard about it, surely.

That Woman and her photograph up on the wall, unveiled for all to see.

The men were over-full of ale and clamoring to look at it. Garry tried to hold them back and they all but trampled him.

Poor man.

He’s always been a good sort, Garry. Don’t mean any disrespect.

But it was a kerfuffle, and was on the second page of the Times, because one of the men did go into a conniption and had to be taken out on a stretcher.

Turned out he had knocked his head and been kicked in the stomach and burst his liver … or was it his pancreas? One of his vital organs. They treated him with something … something for the pain. What was it, Sally?

Oh yes, hydrocodone. That new thing everyone’s mad about. Terrible stuff. Worse than opiates, Mildred told me.

And what’s worse, he came out of the hospital begging for more.

No, I’m not joking.

What was his name again, Sally?

Isn’t he trying to run for parliament?

He’ll never make it now.

Not good for anything after that. And the papers all saying what a terrible photograph it was of That Woman’s, that he never should’ve been looking at it in the first place.

Filthy stuff.

I hear she’s off to America on the next ship. Can’t take what everyone’s whispering about her behind closed doors. Says she’ll be in pictures or dance on a stage.

I can tell you what kind of dancing that’ll be. Mark my words.

She won’t be missed around here, that’s for good and certain.

Poor Garry. Bad for business, this.

I’m sure he didn’t know what he was putting up on that wall. She could act like such an innocent thing. And I did have her here following the parish picnic. Pulled the wool over all our eyes, didn’t she.

He’s a good sort, that Garry. Next time he’ll have to do a check beforehand, if he ever decides to put up Some Person’s Art again. And yes, I say Art that way because it’s not art at all. It’s devil’s work, to make men stumble.

Though I doubt Garry never will fall into that trap again. We’re all about learning lessons, we humans. That’s what we’re good for.


This one turned into more of a voice experiment than a story, but still fun to write. Thank you, Garry, for the inspirational words through facebook: hydrocodone, bruhaha and kerfuffle. If you're wondering why I'm writing shorts, click here.