Rumour Has It...

this was my entry for a short story competition a couple of weeks ago. if you ask me i'd say it was just an experiment gone awry. so i'll let you judge, i'll give you a warning though, its not much of a story. so please be honest with your comments coz i really cant figure out why this story won the second place, i was just having some fun. the topic was 'rumour has it'. now what sort of a story can you come up with other than a high school story of gossip????


“Rumour has it that all dogs are cats, and all cats are dogs”, said Nosy Parker. Nosy and I had just settled down on the couch for a cup of tea, a routine event in our ‘mundane’ lives. Nosy’s statement might seem a little odd to the rest of the world, but if you live in Quipsville, it doesn’t seem odd at all.
Nosy works at the local rumour mill. The job’s a bore, so the lads at the mill try to liven things up by exchanging tit-bits about the town. Truth be told, the lads at the mill are the only reliable source of information as far as this town is concerned. So if Nosy says all dogs are cats and all cats dogs, there must be some truth in it. I find those little chats with Nosy a nice way to unwind at the end of the day. I work at Barney’s vineyard, and maintaining that grapevine isn’t a piece of cake.
Getting back to cats and dogs, Nosy said that he’d gone to attend the First Annual Canine-Feline Convention a couple of days ago. Apparently the growing disregard for pets by humans has forced dogs and cats to join hands and make a united stand. Both parties agreed that it was high time they stopped bickering amongst themselves. In the words of Nosy, “There will soon be a day when the cat barks and the dog mews, and together they’ll raise a cacophony that will burst the eardrums of every evil human.”
That’s Quipsville for you. This isn’t an ordinary town for sure. There’s a certain quaint charm that’s unique to it. I happened to first pass through this town eight years ago. I was on a trip across the country. I didn’t intend on staying here long, but Quipsville grows on you. I never left.
As Nosy goes on with his stories, I stare out of the window. Little Joey is still patiently waiting for the molehill to turn into a mountain.
Like I said, in Quipsville, everything is possible......