It all seemed to have gone swimmingly well. I was the envy of my friends, I mean, what mother of a teenage daughter with their "whatevers" and, "innits," wouldn't want to put her in a pair of lead boots and plunge her fifteen thousand feet below sea level?

Then I started getting desperate phone calls and letters from Jill, complaining about the decompressure chamber, the weight of the lead boots, the helmet, she said it was like having her face in a cage and a goldfish bowl simulataeously. She was anxious about the hungry looks she got from the men on the north sea oil rigs. She suddenly started saying she was afraid of a possible shark attack, no such luck I ponderd. I  lay back and dreamed of me and Brad Pitt by the pool with our fruity coloured cocktails with ruder names still!

Then, I started getting nagging doubts too! Plus, jack was really starting to get up my nose! Every time I spoke to him whilst he sat imersed in some inane computer game, he'd either ignore me, or look at me like I was a snot rag and grunt!

Plus, Jill sounded like a positively reformed character, she was offering, offering! To do the dishes, make the beds, do the ironing, washing, mop the floors and do the shopping,Come home darling, I cried, you poor, poor thing!

Jack, I said, you know how Jill's been enjoying herself enormously up there in Scotland? Well, she's come down with a nasty cold and can't carry on with the diving thing, but there's a chance that you could take her place I said, and, if you don't, I'll sell your Nintendo DS and Play Station on ebay I added, just for good measure.

So, Jack took Jill's place on the Deep Sea Diving adventure, and I got back to mine, which was between my ears and figured well, you know what it figured don't you?

That fantasy about Brad Pitt and the swimmming pool was whirling around in my mind again the morning after Jack had gone, and, as I stood outside in that bracing November wind thinking of him and his cocktails, I felt something slosh down on my head.

Looking up, I saw five magpies go flying by! Still, five for silver made me philosophical about the magpie excrement which had landed slap down on the top of my head and was slowly but surely, dripping down my neck as I watched those magnificent birds disappear into the distance. I thought to myself, I wonder how much I'd get for those lead boots if I cashed them in at the scrap yard!

RATE THIS CHAPTER!

Click to View Author Guidance

Based on the nursery rhyme about magpies.

All the lines are listed in C1 - each chapter should end in a sighting of the correct number of magpies (in whatever form) and the chapter heading be the next line in the rhyme.

Authors can interpret the outcome as they see fit!

Chatty anecdotal style - almost as if she's writing a letter to an old friend.

I'm not sure if this is right - but it could well be the first collaborative story on here with an ending? Well done everyone.

updated Aug 5 by Tasha_Noble