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500 words.
The Bedtime Stories podcast.
Welcome back to Bedtime Stories from 500 Words, where we bring you some of your incredible stories read by the BBC Radio Drama Company.
I'm Dick and he's Dom, and today's theme is... Colours.
Which is weird, as there doesn't seem to be any colours around here.
Hello?
How about enough of this greyness?
Something has stolen all the colours from the earth.
The plants have turned grey and the sky white and the blue seas have become completely clear and everyone keeps bumping into each other on the roads because the traffic lights all look the same dull white colour.
People are miserable.
The earth is so miserable, it's stopped turning on its axis.
Oh, no.
I've had enough of these drab clothes.
The only thing that seems to have retained its colours is my favourite beautiful fantastic, gorgeous rainbow-coloured jumper.
Oh, not that ugly thing.
What was that, mate?
Oh, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.
Hang on a moment.
You said your rainbow-coloured jumper.
Yes, my favourite, beautiful, fantastic, gorgeous, rainbow-coloured jumper.
Yes, yes, that's it.
Did you say rainbow?
I did.
The Earth has forgotten how to be colourful.
The plants, the traffic lights, the sky.
The Earth needs reminding.
And quickly, hand me your jumper, Dick.
I'm afraid you're going to need to sacrifice it for the good of the Earth.
We're going to wrap everything in the whole world in the rainbow-coloured wall from your jumper to remind everything on the Earth how to be colourful.
You want to take it apart?
Yes, it's the perfect plan.
But... No, the Earth is in crisis and this is our only option.
We're going to have to get rid of your awful jumper.
Yeah, maybe you're right.
If everyone will be as happy as I was when I wore my jumper, then the world would be a much better place.
The 500 Words Bedtime Stories Podcast with Dick and Dom.
The colour of temper.
Claire had been sent to her room.
She hadn't meant to get so angry, but she hated homework.
She just wanted it to go away, and before she knew it, she had ripped it into tiny pieces.
Now she was crying behind her door, feeling annoyed with herself.
She could only think of bad things.
Why was she so bad?
Why was she the meanest girl in the world?
Why was she so horrible?
As she sat on her bed, feeling more and more sad, she looked up at her bedroom door to check it was closed and noticed that its usual pink colour was draining out.
She was confused.
Was she dreaming?
She looked around her room to see if anything else was losing its colour.
Her bed was slowly changing from purple to white.
Her bedside table had already turned white and her teddies were not their usual rainbow of colours on the dressing table.
She looked down at herself.
As she watched, her toes became white.
Slowly the white travelled up her legs and over her body.
She could feel tingling as the colour left her long hair.
What was happening?
Claire ran out of her bedroom shouting for her mum.
The stairs were white.
The hallway was white.
The sofas were white.
The dresser was white.
Mum was white.
Mum was happily cooking in the kitchen.
She looked at Clare in surprise.
What's the matter? she asked.
Why is everything white? asked Clare.
Mum looked confused.
What do you mean?
Everything is normal.
Clare looked at her mum in disbelief and ran outside.
Everything she saw was white.
The houses, the cars, the roads, the trees and birds, all white.
It was like it was winter again.
Why had all the colour gone, she thought.
Where had all the colour gone?
Why could mum see the colours but Clare couldn't?
Clare decided to find out if some other people could see the colour.
She looked around and saw the postman.
He was smiling as he delivered the daily post.
What colour are your stamps today? asked Clare.
They are red, replied the postman.
He can see the colours, thought Clare.
Next, she tried the policeman that was searching for something along the road.
Have you seen my ginger cat?
Claire asked.
No, I've only seen white cats today.
In fact, I've only seen white everything today.
Claire thought the policeman looked annoyed.
Claire realised that the happy people could see the colours, but the upset people couldn't.
She sprinted back home, straight into the kitchen where her mum was and gave her a big cuddle.
Sorry I got angry, cried Claire.
Mum gave her a big cuddle back.
Claire felt happy.
She started to feel tingly.
Claire looked up and around the room, all of the colour was being restored.
Mum, could you print me a copy of my homework, please?
It was the night before Monday and all through the school not a creature was stirring, except for Blue Cool.
By day.
You may find me between pages or hiding behind posters being shoved under children's desks or being twisted and folded in bored children's hands.
But by night you could find me walking the school halls, playing in the empty playground or banging on the piano as loud as possible.
That's right, you've all met me before.
I'm the bit of sticky loveliness that you hide under your desk for when you're bored in class.
I am the magic glue that has been shoved behind so many posters so many times.
I am the entertaining blue ball that you mercilessly twist and fold.
I am a help, a hindrance, a friend, a foe.
I live where you live.
The office, your school, your house, your friend's house, the leisure centre, the local swimming pool.
The cinema.
Oh, especially the cinema.
The internet has nothing on me.
I don't need electricity, but I have power.
I am a physical presence in a real world.
I am everywhere.
Everyone needs me.
Everyone knows me.
Young, old, rich, poor, happy, sad, mad, sane, female, male, free or captive.
I am Tick Tock, Tick Tack, Blue Cool.
So Blue Call isn't my real name, but I guess you already know that.
I am not allowed to tell you my real name here.
Why not?
I suppose it's a bit like that guy from the Harry Potter books that you all like you know sick-looking dude with the flared nostrils, pale skin.
But don't worry, he doesn't frighten me.
I've had him and his mates against the wall more than a few times.
People often ask me what I'm made of.
You know it's meant to be a trade secret, but what I can tell you is that it includes strength flexibility, with a touch of wackiness, zaniness and likeability mixed in.
Oh, and don't forget a bit of everyone that's held me, squeezed or bitten me.
Yes, even bitten me.
Cheap dental mould, anyone?
Push me too hard or leave me too long and I will leave a mark.
Yes, even blue call has a breaking point.
I'm better than drawing pins.
I don't poke holes in people, let alone two holes like good old Mr Staples.
Sellotape likes to rip people apart.
And the older she gets, the crispier and yellower she gets.
A bit like that woman I met on the cruise ship in Miami.
And don't get me started on Ms Velcro.
But remember, I'll always be there for you.
You'll never have to look very far.
In fact, just reach under any desk and you're likely to find me.
Just make sure you don't get me confused with secondhand chewing gum.
Me and that guy, we're not even closely related.
BBC Radio 2's 500 Words.
The Bedtime Stories Podcast.
Gob!
Gob!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I think that'll do for a while.
We have baby blue, taupe, mustard yellow, yes, burnt yellow.
That should just about do it.
Now, where has Dick got to?
I bet he's lying out in the garden, lazing around.
Lovey!
Gob!
Gob!
I'm here!
Rich?
Rich?
You sound so close.
Oh, what's this?
A hand is in the pile of wool.
Mate, are you in there?
How did you get there?
Come on now, we've got work to do.
I have been trying to help, Dom.
Right, you start with the plants.
You'll need to climb to the tops of the tallest trees and get deep underwater as deep as the coral reef.
No problem at all.
I tell you what.
Let's get Diddy Dick and Dom's help to wrap all the animals on Earth and all the insects under the ground.
Good idea.
I'll get to the traffic lights and the sky.
Maybe I'll make all the clouds pink.
Oh, yes, very nice.
We can make the world as colourful as we want.
Cameron the chameleon was a funny creature who despised the fact that he inadvertently changed colour.
Just last week in school, Cameron let out a little fart.
All of his friends asked, who passed wind?
Everyone answered, not me, including Cameron.
Although he turned from pink to dark purple with sparkling yellow dots, it was immediately obvious it was Cameron.
His friends pointed at him and laughed.
Embarrassed about the incident, Cameron hid in his tree under his favourite coloured leaf, avoiding the other animals.
He kept on thinking, why do I change colour whenever I don't want to?
The leaves outside began to rustle, disturbing his deep thoughts.
Cameron froze.
Out of the blue, Bepsy, a butterfly, flew in his dwelling.
Hi, just on my evening flight.
Why do you look so glum? asked Bepsy sympathetically.
I'm upset that I can't control my colours like the other chameleons, replied Cameron.
He told Bepsy about what happened at school, noticing that her frown became deeper as he spoke.
After listening attentively to Cameron, Bepsy began to tell her own story.
Well, I was once a dull brown caterpillar.
I was really jealous of everyone else who had vibrant colours, because they could express themselves freely.
All I could do was eat, eat and eat out of frustration.
Until one day I emerged from my cocoon and found my wings painted yellow, like my favourite acacia flowers.
Cameron, it is wonderful to be able to express yourself freely, especially as honestly as you do.
Cameron's eyes danced around as he processed his friend's words.
He had never thought that his ability to change colours was a privilege.
That night, as the stars emerged to decorate the inky black sky, Cameron reflected quietly about the things he had learnt that day.
The next morning, a glistening drop of dew splashed on his head.
Cameron woke up feeling as fresh as if he had just emerged from a long, deep sleep.
As he stretched carefully on his branch, he saw his magnificent turquoise blue reflection in the puddle beneath him.
He took a closer look and knew things would be different from now on.
As he slowly made his way to the school, he could not help but smile.
He greeted and waved at Mr Kingfisher, Dr Warthog, Mrs Baboon and her children along the way.
The fresh smell of orchids filled the morning air.
As he approached the entrance of the school, Cameron was no longer intimidated.
He confidently strode into the classroom, taking a seat at the very front, embracing his true colours for the very first time.
What an inspiration Cameron is.
Hopefully all the other animals and insects will follow his lead for you.
Diddy, Dick and Dom, are you ready to head underground?
We are.
We have our woo and our shovels.
See you on the other side, lovies.
Look after yourselves, lovies, and turn those animals rainbow coloured.
We will.
Goodbye.
It's working.
The sky is starting to turn blue and the cars know that red means stop.
Yay!
The 500 Words Bedtime Stories Podcast with Dick and Dom.
Monochrome.
Monochrome.
Oh God, monochrome.
He wasn't monochrome.
She was black and white.
He was colourful.
She was incomplete.
He was happy.
She was trapped in her own head.
He was her sunshine.
He didn't know her name.
She would sneak looks at him at school.
He would look at her whilst biting his lip.
She would blush.
His hair was dyed red.
Hers was a dull brown colour.
He was called Michael.
She was called Arabella.
He wore bracelets.
She wore oversized flannels.
He wore combat boots.
She wore beat-up black fans.
He had an eyebrow piercing.
She had her ears pierced.
He had a group of best friends.
So did she.
He noticed her.
She didn't know.
He would catch her looking.
She would lower her head and rush out of his view.
He had cherry red lips.
She had chapped dry lips.
He had a powder white complexion.
She had tan skin.
He wore band shirts.
She listened to bands full volume.
He played video games.
She wrote stories.
He wrote songs.
She stayed at home.
He played his guitar.
On the bus to school, he said, Hi.
She asked him what he was doing.
He said, trying to spark something.
I don't know what yet, but it's something.
She said, okay, but I don't think I'm the person you should be sparking something with.
I'm boring.
He told her she wasn't boring to him and stepped off the bus and went through the school gates to meet with his friends.
The next day, he dyed his hair, black with a blue streak.
It looked good, but not as fiery as his red hair.
He was turning monochrome.
They talked on the bus.
Then they started talking outside of school, in their homes, at an old park.
They had movie nights.
Michael wanted to take her out.
He thought she didn't like him, but she did.
Oh, so much.
She thought he didn't like her, but he did.
Oh, so much.
He asked her to go to dinner.
They did.
He kissed her.
She kissed back.
He drove her home.
She was happy.
He was happy.
The black slug inside her was disappearing.
He noticed a difference in her.
She was more happy.
She was in love with him.
He was in love with her.
A few months later, Michael asked her to be his girlfriend.
She said yes.
He could be the cure that she's looking for.
They spent more time together.
She was slowly getting better.
He wrote her songs on his guitar and performed to her.
She would have tears streaming down her face.
She was more in love with him than ever.
Years later, he wanted to ask the question.
He did.
He took her on a picnic to a beach.
They sat on the roof of his car and ate maccas and talked.
Then Michael took her hand and helped her off the car.
Bella, will you marry me?
She was complete.
BBC Radio 2's 500 Words.
Bedtime stories.
The colour of life.
Detention! screamed the pale-faced teacher, Mrs Black.
Tom slouched back in his creaky old wooden chair before burying his head in his arms.
He saw the world melt into a dreary black-and-white mist of small children and livid teachers.
Tom Smith lived in a normal house with a normal mum and a normal dad.
The thing was that Tom was anything but normal.
He had the amazing power of being able to see feelings.
If someone was sad, the world would turn black, white and grey.
But if they were happy, it would turn into all the vibrant colours of the rainbow.
It was a true gift.
Tom snapped back up as soon as his name was called.
Tom, stand up!
He stood up.
For daydreaming again, you will stay and sharpen the pencils for the whole class!
The world turned deep grey.
Tom groaned while some of the rest of the class sniggered and whispered.
So that break he sat in his colourless world sharpening the pencils that were sprawled all around him.
The worst part was that he could see his friends bouncing outside and he was getting slightly queasy from the sudden changes between colour and grey.
And then the school bully walked in and the world turned black.
Tom could see his anger that clearly.
He could see the bully's missed breakfast as his mum was too lazy to serve it.
He could see the non-existent lunch and he could see the long-absent father too.
The colour of betrayal was definitely black.
So before the bully could say or, even worse, do anything, Tom pulled out his lunchbox, offered it to the boy and said I totally see how you feel.
Let's share my lunch, shall we?
The world turned a lighter shade of grey.
But then Tom understood in a split second, just before his lunchbox took flight in the bully's colossal hand, that this was as bright as it got for this boy.
His world was grey, full stop.
Just as Tom thought that he was safe, he felt his solid lunchbox smack his forehead.
He could see the grey apple collide with his ear.
And he could see the black blood pour out of it.
And then there was no pink, white or black.
Just simply nothing.
The world disappeared.
The last thing he remembered thinking was, was this encounter with the bully one too many?
And why could he see no colour at all?
What did that mean?
Tom's mother was standing in front of the window, looking at the garden in full bloom.
She was in deep thought, admiring the flower whose name she did not know and whose colour she could not describe.
It simply was a blend of every single shade of every colour you could ever think of.
I shall call it Tom, she said to herself, and slowly bent to take its deep, sweet smell.
BBC Radio 2's 500 Words.
The Bedtime Stories podcast.
All the insects and all the animals and all the sky and all the earth has been turned rainbow.
We did it.
It looks wonderful!
And all because of your colourful jumper, mate.
All because of one little rainbow jumper.
The stories were very helpful too, actually.
Stories are one of the best ways to bring colour back into the world.
It's pretty important we keep writing and telling them.
It makes the world go round.
Yes, like a piece of wool being unwound.
We hope you enjoyed this episode of Bedtime Stories.
Make sure to like and subscribe.
And if you're still beavering away and writing stories, here's a writing tip from our pals at Oxford University Press.
Visualise the plot.
What happens next?
What would my character do now?
How will they get out of this situation?
Working out the answers to these kinds of questions can help if you get stuck.
Think creatively.
Sometimes the weirdest ideas can give you the right solution.
Or maybe introducing a new character could give you the answer.
From everyone here at Radio 2 and 500 Words, good luck and good night!
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