Orange Sherbet and Jessica Rabbit

by Mel George

"Nine across: orange sherbet and Jessica Rabbit." He read the clue again, and then raised his eyes to the ceiling, squinting one half-shut as if in deep concentration, powering his enormous brain cells apparently being a gargantuan physical effort. He tapped the end of his pen against his front teeth and let out a quiet but convincing little "hmm," whilst moving his arm to hide the distasteful sight of the half-finished and abandoned "five-minute puzzler" which was his previous two hours' work. He didn't know why he was bothering with this pointless pantomime; there wasn't even anyone else there to fool, but it somehow seemed like if he ignored the evidence he might spontaneously become the sort of person who regularly solved the cryptic crossword; or at least the sort of person who smiled and nodded sagely at these nonsensical clues. He chewed his pen and frowned with real, imaginary effort. The grid was empty, and would stay that way like every other day, but he'd still give it ten more minutes before he felt justified in turning on the TV.

6S - C2

Mel George lives and writes in Oxford.