Fiction, stories. Funny & meaningful
Once upon a time, many moons even more showers of rain and a truly monumental number of snacks ago, a vague, disorganised and nearly middle aged bloke had backache so he visited the osteopath.
When I say the osteopath, I mean an osteopath. Not Anne Osteopath - that happened several years later. Having visited the osteopath, the vague and disorganised one felt even sleepier than usual and so, having a certain amount of faith in such feelings, he slept.
He also dreamed.
He dreamed of Ozzy Towpath, the world's first osteopath. Despite being a vague and disorganised creature and nearly middle aged, he wrote it down.
In the course of scribbling the 300 word epistle he rashly introduced a character called Zorba the Prophet. It can do no harm, he thought.
Maybe two weeks later (memory is an unreliable beast) he wrote another little passage relating to the hypothetical Zorba. One thing led to another, as they often do, and the World of Smogdale was born, rapidly followed (estimated using a vague and disorganised yardstick) by The AloeVeras.
The AloeVeras know for a fact that this is a load of old bootmenders, they do indeed exist, and they dictate their adventures to the vague and disorganised one while he sleeps.
Which party is right? Who knows . . .
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