I thought I'd sometimes put up some short pieces of fiction writing. They're not really structured but are just short exercises, things that I might look at developing or might scrap. Ideas, really, mostly stream of consciousness. Anyway, here's one.

Astronaut School
At astronaut training school, Bertie Dirtweed was never top of the class, but he tried. His instructor was always saying to him “Bertie, are you going to be an astro-thousand or an astro-naught?” Bertie would always reply “An astronaut”, believing this to be the correct answer and although technically it was, it wasn’t what his instructor wanted to hear. "You'd better start putting in astro-thousand percent, Bertie" his instructor said. Bertie spent many a summer in the brig as a result, which in astronaut school is an anti-gravity bin. It’s the same as a regular bin except spinning constantly and full of compost. Of course this meant that Bertie became acclimatised to weightlessness much faster than his fellow pupils. Still, it didn’t help him in "the long run". ("the long run" was the annual astronaut training school marathon, an event that Bertie was appalling at, like most things.)