Part One of an old song challenge I found on my memory stick-to write ten stories based on/inspired by the first ten songs to come up on shuffle, more than 500 words and less than 1500 words in total.

Song: People Should Smile More by Newton Faulkner

Characters: Tom & Dot

Length: 649 words.


"People should smile more," Dot observed, flopping down opposite Tom. They had been walking through Potter, and the damp weather had apparently had an adverse affect on the temperament of the town. All they had wanted was to buy something for the Coots' lunch, but they had not been greeted warmly in any of the shops they had visited. In the end, they had bought egg sandwiches at a bakery, but not before the shopkeeper could tell Tom that Americans and young people were, between them, the root causes of every type of evil. Dot was disgruntled.

With unforced politeness, they were waiting for the others to arrive before beginning. Titmouse had been sent on ahead for foraging, and Dot was first mate of the good ship. Dick was cramming to take his School Cert. a year early, so she had been promoted.

"You would have thought..." Tom began. (He would have thought that they would cheer up, as he himself always did, when they saw Dot's infectious, endearing joy, saw her swinging her hat carelessly by its ribbon (her mother would have been horrified; hats don't grow on trees)). "You would have thought that after years of living in Potter, they would have grown used to the rain."

She nodded her agreement, kicking her shoes off and lying down in the wet grass. "I like spring," she said irrelevantly. "Everyone should like spring. I wish I could write a poem about spring that would make everyone love it."

"I dare say you could, but how would people in Norfolk ever make conversation if they didn't have weather to moan about?" He laid back as well, hands behind his head. "You'd be singlehandedly responsible for a ninety percent drop in weddings and births if you got people to like rain."

Dot laughed. "And the other ten percent?"

"Childhood friends, of course."

"Of course." Her stomach growling in an undignified manner, Dot blushed and pulled a packet of peppermints out of her skirt pocket. "Something to pass the time with?" (Tom hadn't thought that the time was going slowly, but he took a mint anyway). "You assume too much power on the part of my poetry, though; what makes you think it would have such a devastating effect?"

"Oh... you know." His shirt was already damp from the grass, and he smiled. "I always classify people as heroes or villains now; I expect the criminals in Dad's paper to have scars and beards. I can't help it. That's a powerful talent; I hope you always use it for good."

"No shrinking the population of Horning, then." Tucking the peppermints back into her pocket, she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "I promise." She paused, and pointed at a miserable bank of grey cloud. "Look, it's a pirate ship and a merchant, exchanging shots. The merchant has something much more valuable on board than gold, you know; he is giving passage to his first mate's daughter, who is to marry her beloved (whom she met, naturally, by moaning about the rain) in France. The captain will fight to the death before he allows her honour to be compromised."

"As well he should." With a great deal of effort on his part, he saw a wisp of cloud that looked a little like a sail. "A captain will always fight for his crew."

There was a small, contented silence, before Dot piped up again. "You know, if I really could convince people to like the weather, whatever form it comes in, perhaps fated lovers could start their romances by talking about how much they enjoy the rain."

"That would change the whole character of the Broads!" Tom was only mock-horrified, but Dot looked at him very seriously.

"Don't worry, Tom; I promised." She switched her mint to the other side of her mouth, and thought about the rain.