The popular Brighton-based writing duo have released a book of stories that are just 100 words.
Felstead and Waddell, the popular Brighton-based writing duo, have released a new book of short stories that are just 100 words long.
House Paint and Other Stories is the latest collection from the writers, who have grown a cult following thanks to their website (www.felsteadandwaddell.co.uk) and performances at a range of spoken word festivals and events across the United Kingdom.
Their stories are designed to fit the modern age - a world of text messages, emails and tweets, where communication is dominated by the concept of bite-size chunks of easily-digestible information.
The 100-word story approach of House Paint and Other Stories provides a framework for a collection of portraits of the fantastically unaware, of the broken, of love lost and found, of the everyday examined through a cracked lense.
House Paint and Other Stories is in many ways a study of the form itself. Some of the stories are jokes, while others offer readers a glimpse of the sad, the lovely, the touching mundanity of modern life. There are stories that see a whole life lived in the course of the minute it takes to read about it. Stories that in opening up a moment reveal the emptiness and the fullness at the heart of things. Readers are sure to be moved, however quickly.
At 7.33am Manuel Albinini leaves for work. Every morning I watch this man. His hair is slick, his moustache is trimmed and the shine on his shoes reflects his sanitary and disciplined life. Late at night, when the lights are on, I can see into his apartment, and into a world of white tiles and marble floors – all Wagner and
disinfectant. Christ it makes my teeth ache. Anyway, yesterday, whilst he was out, I posted a live fly through his letterbox. This morning at 7.36 I watched Manuel Albinini leave for work, his top button undone and looking distinctly unshaven.
Last week, I read about a man who drove around the country giving away free ice creams. He said it made him happy. I thought this was a brilliant idea. I bought an old blue van and filled it with beers. I drove down to the beach and gave away the beer. The people at the beach loved it and kept coming
back for more. It made me really happy to give them more and more beers. Then the beer ran out and the people went away. I sat in the back of the van. It was big and empty.
Opinions are a waste of time. I have a much better system. I give everything points out of 10. Here’s how itworks.Igivemyhouse8outof10.Mycarisa9.My girlfriend is a 6 out of 10. She was a 7 but now she’s 6. My mum’s a 7. She is better than my girlfriend but not as
good as the house. Playstation just gets 6, Xbox a 9 and walking in the countryside a 2. I give my current haircut an 8, the summer a 5, and my dog, Rupert, a 10.
Kingston B Rottam is a forty-five year old white man. He lives in London. He is very loud. From the moment he gets up, to the moment he goes to sleep, all he does is shout. He shouts at his wife, and he shouts at his children. At work he shouts at his employees. However, he reserves
his absolute ire for public servants, at whom he screams until his voice packs up; until his mouth has emptied itself of spit; until his eyes turn red. As a result, you will always find Mr Rottam at the front of the queue.