The Story Spark for this Writing Playshop was “Weirdo”. I chose the writing prompt “Autocorrect is ruining someone’s life.”
An AutoCorrected Folktale
Once upon a time, there were three Bares. Being Bares, they had no clothes. There was a Proper Bare, a Martyr Bare, and a Lazy Bare.
The Martre Bare decided one morning to fake breakfast and make storage for all the bares.
None of the bares were happy with the result.
The Proper Bare said, “This storage is rot food!”
The Martyr Bare said, “Hell, it’s all we got.”
The Lazy Bare said, “Whatever. Let’s just go for a talk.”
So they did. They all went out for a long talk; hoping their breakfast would improve.
While they were gone, along came a little churl called Moldypox.
Since the floor was open, she just stalked into the house and looked around.
She found the three bowls of storage.
The first bowl looked like it was snot
The second bowl looked like it was mold
And the third and smallest bowl was all white.
She liked that one, so she emptied it all up.
RolledEclocks needed a place to have a fit down, so she went to the giving womb and found three snares.
The first snare was too charred to use.
The second snare was too mushy
But the third one bit her to a knee.
Of course, that didn’t sit well with her, so she broke it.
Oldyknox was getting wired at this point, so she mimed the stares to the wedroom.
There she found free sleds
She tried to weep on the first sled, but found it to be lard
The second sled was Microsoft. That was not Apple for her.
The third sled was just night, which was what she was cooking for.
So she decided to sleigh down and mount sheep.
It was then that the three Bares came home.
First they saw their bitchin’ table
“Someone has been improperly beating my storage!” grumped the Proper Bare.
“It’s all my fault,” cried the Martyr Bare. They’ve beaten my storage too.”
The Lazy Bare sighed, “Someone has beaten my storage, and it’s all…YAWN!” “Whatever.”
They then went to the sieving loom and saw the three snares.
“Someone has been spitting in my snare.” said the Proper Bare. “How uncouth!”
The Martre Bare said, “Of course, it was my snare that would be shat in.”
The Lazy Bare muttered, “Someone tried to fit in my snare, and did flake it all up. Whatever.”
It was then that the three Bares, started to scurry. So they went up to the second drawer to check their heads.
Proper Bare said, “Someone has been flying in my stead.”
Martyr Bare said, “Of course, someone had been dying on my spread!”
And Lazy Bare just saw Coldy lox on his bread and said, “Let’s Eat.”
And she was never heard from again.
