Finally the time is here: here is the first of our fanfiction short story competition winners! A selection of the other entries will be posted once a week for the next couple of weeks.
Bruce Pavier was the first of our winners with this story exploring Ancient Greece. What can I say? Bruce managed to insert Roman numerals into an Ancient Greek story and bring it off perfectly. I loved this story. The phrase, ‘As useless as a luminous Markham’ deserves to go down in History. Brilliant!
The pod landed gently, pushing the dust up like brown cotton wool. Max, Peterson and Mr Markham released their seat belts and took stock of the situation.
‘Well’, said Max, ‘Here we are in Ancient Greece and with only 500 words to put the story across. No pressure then’.
They did the usual checks of the immediate area and then loaded up their rucksacks with Egg sandwiches, packets of crisps and a Thermos Flask of Tea each. Peterson hit the button and the door opened. They stepped out into a warm morning’s sun. The scent of flowers and food drifted on the slight breeze.
‘Right’, said Max, ’We are here to find Hercules and discovery the truth behind the Myth of his feats of incredible strength. The first thing we need to do is synchronise our Sun dials’. Lifting up her wrist she said ‘I have V past VIII’.
‘Concur with that’, said Peterson and turned to Mr Markham. Mr Markham was shaking his wrist. ‘I think mine has stopped. I make it II past V’. He held his wrist to his ear. ‘Yes. Definitely stopped. I cannot hear it ticking at all’.
Peterson grabbed Markham’s wrist and looked at the Sundial. ‘You idiot’, he said,’ Of course it is stopped. It is covered in paint’.
‘Well yes’, said a rather miffed Mr Markham,’ I expected us to be here for some time so I put some luminous paint on it so I could tell the time when it got dark’.
‘You should use a torch like any other sensible person’, said Peterson. (This, of course, was the origin of that famous Ancient Greek expression – ‘As useless as a luminous Markham’).
They walked into the town centre and got directions to where Hercules could be found. To their surprise it was a small shop and sitting on a step outside was a stick of a man.
‘Excuse me’, said Max,’ but would you be so kind as to get Mr Hercules for us’
‘I am he’, said the stick.
‘But I was expecting someone much bigger, someone who could do feats of amazing strength’.
‘Ah,’ said Hercules,’ I see your problem. Come with me’ and he lead them through the shop to a courtyard. In the courtyard was a Scribe writing furiously on a clay tablet. In front of him were six men shouting out words.
Hercules turned to our heroes. ‘Predictive text,’ he said, ’always a problem and no spell checker. When my exploits were written down they transposed ‘Feet’ for ‘Feat’. You see I am a Chiropodist and my motto is ‘You must have amazingly strong feet’ so you can see where the misunderstanding could have arisen. The saga should have read ‘Hercules and his amazing FEET of strength.’
Back at the pod our confused explorers sat for some length in silence.
‘That was silly’, said Markham.
‘I agree’, replied Max, ’Right , Home and Beer’
The world went white.