Six-Word Stories #9 – #13 (Club Night)

Sultry saxophones shift slowly, slipping smoothly.


While


Sly snorting sexophones sip steaming snakeoil.


But then


Stroppy sturdy stacatto shatters several sensibilities.


And


Svelte strippers steal shimmering sky-stars.


Until


Stephanie’s soothing sensual string-section sings.


(C) Grumpy Axolotl
Featured Image: Pixabay

Rhyme without Reason

Language block, cock-block
Writer’s block, lost sock
Tick-tock, cuckoo clock
Can’t pick bloody lock
Door knock, take stock
Throw another bloody rock

Carrot sticks, parrot sticks
Rhythm sticks, fiddlesticks
Sherbert sticks, pervert sticks
Transvestites look up women’s skirts?

Clock ticks, cattle-ticks
Window break, coffee-break
Jewel fake, orgasm fake
Step upon garden rake

Turf war, smurf war
Obelix eats wild boar
To hell with your smart-phone
Yes please, a saxophone.

A train got lost at the station
Lost & found, Northward bound.

Rehearsal

The saxophones had blown it, again. The notes were fine but they just weren’t nailing that rhythm. Two of the main stage-lights had blown and the guitarist had blown a valve in his beloved Marshall. Rumour was that Jodie had blown the bass player, and Rodger felt as if he would soon blow a fuse. Was this the life he had given up glass-blowing for? As he ran his hands back through his thinning grey hair, an electric fan in the wings picked loose sheets of music from his conductor’s stand and blew them across the stage. It was going to be a long tour.