Twenty-Four Hours Of Fast Fiction – the ebook

OK, it’s a little later than I anticipated, but below are the download links for ebooks of The Twenty-Four Hours of Fast Fiction, the Red Nose Day project I undertook for Comic Relief.

A few thanks and some explanations, however…

The explanations first. You’ll see that I’m making the ebooks free for download. There are lots of reasons for this, including an inability of mine to be able to follow simple Paypal setup instructions… To be fair though, that’s only a minor reason.

Being serious for a moment; when I started this project, I wanted to raise £1,200. I aimed high, never really being convinced that it was possible, and thinking that maybe, if I was lucky, very lucky, we’d hit £1,000.

As I write this, we’re at a shade under £1,300.

We hit the target and then some. YOU hit the target and then some.

The donations I’ve received have astonished me with their kindness and generosity, of all sizes, up to a whopping £240 from Mister Red Nose Day himself, Richard Curtis.

So that’s one reason right there. That kindness and generosity from so many people in a good cause has allowed me to reach the target I hoped for. It’s also allowed me to think that maybe, since Comic Relief is all about asking people to give what they can, maybe I should just do that with the book: make the download free and just ask people to think about those who benefit from Comic Relief, and give something, say a pound, to them via the giving page.

Some quick thank you’s before the links:

To all the challengers – thank you so very much. The titles and words you challenged me with were as fine a selection as I could possibly have wished for. And together we raised over £1,300 during the writing of this book.

To those who donated money during the writing – I can’t express my thanks enough. Just… thank you thank you thank you. Thanks also to those who followed us on webcam, or visited the venue, and gave us so much encouragement and support during the twenty-four hours.

To Hayley Gale and Darren Saunders – The technical wonders that kept a live feed going during the 24 hours during which this book was written. Thank you so much for your time, your efforts, your good humour and your friendship.

To Mitch Benn, Clara Benn and Neil Gaiman – This book, indeed this entire project, would ever have happened without you, so thank you all.

To you, who are about to download this book. Thank you…

AND… To Richard Curtis, Comic Relief and everyone who works there – thank you for being there and for doing what you do.

OK, here are the links. As I said, no obligation to donate anything, but if you’ve enjoyed the stories, or expect to enjoy the stories, can I suggest a donation of a pound here?

UNFORTUNATELY, there are problems donating via that method if you’re donating from outside the UK, so you can either use a UK postcode (it’s been suggested you try W12 8QT) or Paypal me any donation on budgie@hypotheticals.co.uk

The links:

Twenty-Four Hours of Fast Fiction ebook – epub (for iBooks)

Twenty-Four Hours of Fast Fiction ebook – mobi (for Kindle)

24hrFFC 24: Option B Remains Open

Title: Option B Remains Open
Word: declamatory
Challenger: Mitch Benn
Length: 200 words exactly

The old god tried not to laugh when mortals applied for godhood. It wasn’t easy, even for a being as old as he, and he was by far the oldest of the current pantheon allowed contact with ‘temporal corporeal beings’, as the newer, more politically correct gods insisted on calling them.

Every decade or so, he’d check the various temples erected in his or his families honour on Earth, from the mud huts of one continent to the golden palaces of another. He had long ago ceased to even find any amusement in treating them the same. They were just buildings; neither he nor his kind had required buildings for longer than humans had had recognisable forms of language.

Oh, here was one, uttering both plea and demand in the declamatory style they so believed was expected of them. The old god could no longer sigh, and at times like this, missed the ability. The fools genuinely had no concept how boorish and boring they simultaneously appeared.

The old god rarely granted godhood, nor immortality of being. Their own activities, however, usually guaranteed they would never be forgotten. Isn’t that true, young Caligula? the old god thought, before he left.

© Lee Barnett, 2013

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This is the twenty-fourth story in The Twenty-Four Hour Fast Fiction Challenge. There are no more. That’s it.

No, seriously, that’s it.

But you can still sponsor me!
The ebook will be available later today…

24hrFFC 23: I’m Going Off Line

Title: I’m Going Off Line
Word: narcissism
Challenger: Robert Llewellyn
Length: 200 words exactly

After spending years in the wilderness of scientific outlands, entirely sure our planet was speaking to us if we could but only translate the messages, it was something of a shock to receive an email from The Earth.

Of course, I was initially convinced it was a hoax – who wouldn’t be? But when I checked the incoming headers, they… didn’t exist. Nor did the domain from which the email purportedly came.

And yet the email arrived. As did a follow up when I deleted the first one.

A simple message: The Earth was shutting down and it was giving me fair warning, suggesting I tell others. It did this only, of course, after correcting my main thesis and suggesting that my attempts to raise public awareness owed more to narcissism than genuine scientific enquiry and sharing. Well, obviously, that played no part whatsoever in my suggestion that it would be necessary to meet The Earth should it genuinely wish me to believe its story.

At this point, The Earth told me to fuck off.

So I started digging my garden up in order to communicate further.

Yes, at midnight. Yes, with a mechanical digger.

Why do you ask, Constable?

© Lee Barnett, 2013

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This is the twenty-third story in The Twenty-Four Hour Fast Fiction Challenge. There will be one more story, just one. Just. One. More. Story. Sponsor me to complete them!

24hrFFC 21: A Forgotten Spider Remembers

Title: A Forgotten Spider Remembers
Word: monkish
Challenger: Robin Ince
Length: 200 words exactly

By the time the intern had been fired for incompetence, seventeen experiments had been ruined, a further six had been compromised and then, of course, there was the spider that no-one knew existed.

Discovered two years later in a clear plastic network of tubular connecting tunnels, it appeared that the intern had on this occasion excelled in his uniquely egregious patterns of what, for want of a better word, they called “work”; no paperwork had ever been filed, nor grant applications made, nor any records kept.

Discussion with the intern’s colleagues revealed no further information; indeed, it appeared that where this spider was concerned, the intern had been almost monkish in his apparent vow of silence. It was with further astonishment that they realised the arachnid had survived solely upon the flies and small insects trapped in the filters built into the tunnels.

The spider dimly recalled training the large creature before it had left; afterwards it had to fend for itself. This was less than ideal, and it newly remembered hunger, and not being hungry. It preferred the latter. It now saw the curiosity on the faces of the giants and was satisfied. They would be easy to train…

© Lee Barnett, 2013

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This is the twenty-first story in The Twenty-Four Hour Fast Fiction Challenge. There will be three more stories… Sponsor me to complete them!

24hrFFC 22: Dancing Upside Down

Title: Dancing Upside Down
Word: flannel
Challenger: Jenny Colgan
Length: 200 words exactly

When the human race finally left for the stars, the effects upon so many spheres of human endeavour had never been anticipated. It had taken many, many years, in some cases generations, for the consequences to be fully appreciated.

Within three generations, the human body tended to a redefined norm, with extremes at both ends becoming rarer with each passing year. It was astonishing to the older generations how quickly they themselves, let alone their grandchildren, adapted to zero gravity for moving around; it surprised no-one, however, that they still preferred beds to floating around their rooms… As for washing, within seventy years, no one had heard of a flannel or a towel. Encased showers that pulled moisture from you were the standard.

It would be unfair to say that dancing simply ended; that would be far too simple. Nor had it evolved, as some liked to pretend. What people now called dancing was merely moving from one place to another in approximate time to some music that happened to be playing. Speedy movements inside zero gravity even when possible, were best avoided, and no matter how teachers tried to encourage it, thirteen year old boys still loathed the waltz.

© Lee Barnett, 2013

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This is the twenty-second story in The Twenty-Four Hour Fast Fiction Challenge. There will be two more stories… Sponsor me to complete them!

24hrFFC 19: Suzy Gets A Fish

Title: Suzy Gets A Fish
Word: banana
Challenger: Ben Aaronovitch
Length: 200 words exactly

She was furious with me, of course. The journey back had been unpleasant, to put it mildly, and the moody silences punctuated by sullen looks did nothing to improve either of our moods.

As so often between parents and children, it came down to one of us wanting something the other wouldn’t allow. Whether it was a present, a hug or some peace on a Sunday morning, desire didn’t guarantee satisfaction. Suzy had wanted something other than what she’d come home with, and to her that was unacceptable, as was her behaviour to me. She seemed to take a perverse joy in my upset.

I offered her a banana, arguably several thousand years old by now, but she just turned away from me and the two hour old fruit. The company had made it perfectly clear before we travelled: you were allowed to bring back to present day certain types of fruit, but no animals whatsoever. They had a fishtank in the vistors’ shop to allow for fauna requests; that mollified most children, but definitely not Suzy.

I kept telling her: we don’t have room for a dodo, it’s only a small apartment. She just cried. And ignored the fish.

© Lee Barnett, 2013

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This is the nineteenth story in The Twenty-Four Hour Fast Fiction Challenge. There will be five more stories… Sponsor me to complete them!

24hrFFC 20: Sale On Horse Beaks

Title: Sale On Horse Beaks
Word: crepuscular
Challenger: David Arnold
Length: 200 words exactly

Come in, come in. No, you’re not too late; I was just shutting up shop but for such an obvious gentleman of taste? Your first time… well, no mind, sir. I’m happy to introduce you to the wonders of nature. Well, I say nature, but here at Doctor Moreau’s World of Pets, we don’t believe in being hidebound by the limitations of chance and casual fortune… or should I say casual misfortune?

I mean to say, sir, who’s harmed by having a crepuscular chipmunk? Now, being totally honest, sir, yes, indeed, you do need to give them special feed otherwise they’ll starve to death, but it really isn’t all that expensive. (Not compared to the little bastard you’re buying, I mean.) No, I didn’t say anything, sir, you must have misheard.

Of course, you’re not limited to animals with minor changes to correct, shall we say, nature’s lottery. We have some excellent examples where we’ve heightened the aggressive genes. These vicious fighting sloths, sir. Yes, do be careful.

Over there? Alas, not all our benificent gestures come to fruition. We were attempting to recreate the hippogriff. Unfortunately, however… You’re interested? Well, we do have special offers on them right now…

© Lee Barnett, 2013

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This is the twentieth story in The Twenty-Four Hour Fast Fiction Challenge. There will be four more stories… Sponsor me to complete them!

24hrFFC 17: Death of A Turnip

Title: Death Of A Turnip
Word: archbishop
Challenger: Andy Salzman
Length: 200 words exactly

“It is a pity,” said the archbishop to the local vicar, as they entered the church, “that despite parliamentary draftsmen spending their lives ensuring clarity, no-one has managed to codify via any legislature the law of unintended consequences.”

He viewed his current predicament as a perfect example of the rule; he had not intended to stay the night with this vicar, but his car had skidded on some root vegetables upon the road, and had gently collided with a tree. The local vicar had asked him to stay and offered him the opportunity to deliver the sermon the following day.

He walked to the front of the church, consulted some notes and began, planning to recount his misadventures.

“Consider the turnip,” said the archbishop, and the members of the congregation shifted in their seats and looked uneasily at each other.

“I say again, consider the turnip,” repeated the archbishop, and then he paused at the obvious hostility beginning to become apparent.

Once he’d told them it was his car that had crushed the turnip, his fate was set. They were an old church, ancient with their own customs. One did not simply murder a turnip and expect to escape justice.

© Lee Barnett, 2013

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This is the seventeenth story in The Twenty-Four Hour Fast Fiction Challenge. There will be seven more stories… Sponsor me to complete them!

24hrFFC 18: My Wife Never Knew

Title: My Wife Never Knew
Word: pollen
Challenger: Mark Watson
Length: 200 words exactly

She always suspected, of course, but my loving and devoted spouse was never entirely convinced of the truth one way or the other. Even when the jury came back with the unanimous guilty verdict, there was that small kernel of doubt, an irritation like a mild pollen allergy; just enough to keep her awake at night. But now, I wonder whether she’s still tormented by the uncertainty or whether after years have gone by, turning into the decades of a life sentence, she’s come to accept that she’ll never be sure.

Of course the truth is that I was guilty as hell – I killed the old man for his money and never regretted doing so. He’d been blackmailing me for years and when I discovered that he’d been extorting others as well… the opportunity to take a chance on getting away with the killing was too good to pass up. There would surely have been too many suspects to narrow it down to me.

Ah, if I’d only known; unfortunately, I know myself only too well; even had I known, I would probably have still done away with him.

I wish my wife hadn’t been found guilty, of course…

© Lee Barnett, 2013

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This is the eighteenth story in The Twenty-Four Hour Fast Fiction Challenge. There will be six more stories… Sponsor me to complete them!

24hrFFC 16: Texting My Ex

Title: Texting My Ex
Word: underwhelming
Challenger: Neil Gaiman
Length: 200 words exactly

It used to be so easy, texting him, back when we were closer. I’d think nothing of texting him as I was heading home from work, asking him if he fancied a drink, or a coffee, or more. This was when we were closer, as I said.

He was the only one who never complained about my atrocious spelling – I never did get the hang of predictive texting. Sure there were times we argued still, times when exasperation could turn to annoyance and all the reasons we became exes emerged to take centre stage in the plays of our lives.

That was when it was horrible, when the slightest irritation grew in importance again, and marital support that was underwhelming at best and sheer apathy at worst reminded us of the pain. But on the whole, we still liked each other, and we liked being close.

We’re not close any more and I miss that, more than I anticipated. I miss getting his replies to my texts, funny replies, that showed how close we still were.

Still two hundred miles straight up will do that. We mail each other now. From the International Space Station, it’s cheaper than texting…

© Lee Barnett, 2013

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This is the sixteenth story in The Twenty-Four Hour Fast Fiction Challenge. There will be eight more stories… Sponsor me to complete them!