300 word writing competition. That’s what it says here in the paper, George.  Might give that a go.  Though that’s not many words. How can you tell a story with so few? And do numbers count as words?
300 words: more than a tweety, isn’t that what our Tracey calls them? And it’s longer than that Valentine’s card you gave me, George, ‘Roses are red, violets are blue, you talk for England but I still love you.’ You laughed so hard your dentures fell out, didn’t they George? Right into your chicken tikka masala. You had such fun fishing them out. Whiskers sniffed very suspiciously at your fingers then, didn’t you Whiskers? She’s purring in agreement. Can you hear her George? Drink your tea, dear. 300 words. Why, the Bible must have thousands… millions.  And Shakespeare. But there’s that theatre company, Reduction Shakespeare or some such that shortens his works. I like plays but you’re not keen, are you George? More into football and dominoes. Mind you, that’s how we met, isn’t it George? Dominoes.  Down at the Dog and Duck.  Love at first sight.  Oooh, big anniversary coming up.  Fifty years married this June, isn’t it George? Blessed with four girls, three of them married and six grandkids, all girls too.  Amazing. And with another on the way, haven’t we George? And now Whiskers completes our happy family. Got her from the Cat Rescue people, didn’t we George? Don’t let your tea get cold, dear.  Whiskers loves her Daddikins.  Always sitting in your lap, George. You say Whiskers doesn’t need to talk, she communicates so well without words, don’t you George? Anyway, where was I? Ah, yes, three hundred words. That’s not many, is it George? George…?
“Have you turned your hearing aid off again? George…?”