Madam Sweet Plums

• Tessa Nielsen, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2019

One fine spring morning a pretty lady named Madam Sweet Plums hopped out of a black limo just outside of number 9 Blossom Lane. Shivering with excitement, she turned to face the small brick house that sat on a dead lawn. Straightening her bright purple business suit, she strolled up to the rotting wooden door and knocked.

“Who dat?” Came a rusty voice from behind the door.

“Madam Sweet Plums,” She sang.

“Wot ya want?” Growled the voice.

“I have come to tell you that your story is going to be made into a movie,” She said excitedly. “Didn’t you receive my email?”

“WOT?!!” The rotting door burst open. A scruffy old man with greasy hair tied into a knot at the back of his head stood in the doorway. He had a moth-eaten singlet hanging limply around his torso. “Me ‘tory? Wot ‘tory?”

“You know,” Madam Sweet Plums began, “The one about--”

“OH! Ya mean this ‘tory!” Exclaimed the man and pulled out a grubby bit of toilet paper from his trousers. He held it up, so Madam Sweet Plums could read the untidy scrolled writing.

OncE a pon a tiMe there

lived A doNkeY.

the end.

“Oh,” Madam Sweet Plums muttered to herself, her smile disappearing, “Wrong house.” And scampered quickly back to the limo waiting for her and threw open the door, jumping in.

“OI! Wot about me fortune?” The man called after the car as it sped down the street.