Looking through my early stories, I found one from 2017, my first year on WordPress, with only 4 likes and no comments; I thought I’d give it another shot. Any similarity between the MC and yours truly is very much intended. I hope you enjoy Lamb Stew.
Written for “Can You Tell A Story In…” – Esther asks: “Can you tell a story in 23 words?” We must use these three words in what we write: ‘quinoa’, ‘ferret’, and ‘thwart’. Here’s my 23 word story.
Written for Friday Fictioneers where our host Rochelle asks us to use the photo below as inspiration to write creatively in 100 words or less while making every word count. This is my flash.
Esther asks: “Can You Tell A Story In….?” This week’s challenge is to include the words “dentist”, “elegant”, “trout” and “pocket” in astory of exactly 30 words. Here’s my 30 word story.
Written for d’Verse Quadrille #212 – “What the What”, where the challenge is to write a poem in exactly 44 words with the word “what” as inspiration. This is my quadrille.
Written for No Theme Thursday where Kevin has offered us some incredible images to inspire and get our creative juices flowing. Revamping of a 2020 tale, this is my story.
Written for Friday Fictioneers where our host Rochelle has asked us to use the photo below as inspiration to get creative in 100 words or less, making every word count. Here’s my flash.
Imagine my surprise when I tuned into “Wheel of Fortune” and discovered you’re the new host!
Where the fuck is Pat Sajak? He could teach you a few things about show business! You have a nice smile and might have a future ahead in commercials.
You’re a cutie-pie; I wouldn’t mind a roll in the hay with you, that’s for damn sure. Next time you’re in Wichita, stop by Doris’ Donuts – simplicity at its tastiest!
This morning he found himself in the elevator with his boss; they were chatting amiably about the baseball post-season games. Joe’s boss was impressed (and a bit jealous) to learn that Joe had a home theatre set up in his rec room with a 96” Samsung smart TV.
Before he could stop himself, Joe invited his boss over for dinner, a little billiards and the baseball game that night … without first checking in with his wife, Amy. This was not the first time Joe invited someone over without asking Amy; true, they were his friends and Amy didn’t mind because they just ordered pizza and played pool. But this was his boss and Joe was expecting Amy to cook a nice meal. And it was already 3:30 PM!
Joe sent Amy a text (because he was too chicken to call her in person!): “Hey, babe! Boss coming to dinner. Big opportunity for me! Don’t care what you have to do, just make me proud. Luv ya.”
Amy stared at her phone in disbelief. A thousand thoughts raced through her head. Wishing to avoid an unpleasant conversation, she answered Joe’s text with a simple “OK” but her blood was boiling.
Two hours later when Joe and his boss opened the front door, they were greeted with the most mouthwatering aromas coming from the kitchen. Joe looked around in awe at his sparkling house and the beautifully set dining room table. Amy greeted them, all smiles and looking lovely.
“Babe!” Joe whispered breathlessly. “The place looks fabulous and dinner smells amazing. How’d you do all this?”
Amy blushed sweetly and whispered back “It wasn’t so hard, honey. I just hired Minute Maid Cleaners, a personal chef and a waiter.”
“You did what?? We couldn’t possibly afford all that!” Joe barked.
“Sure we could, honey” Amy laughed, “after I sold the pool table and the TV.”
Written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt #385. The challenge is to write a poem or a piece of prose in exactly 85 words using the word “vertigo”. Here’s mine.
What is this sudden disequilibrium? I feel like I could fall flat on my bum!
Tummy’s flipping and I’m gonna be sick Somebody get me some Pepto quick!
Ears are ringing, I’ve got a headache Doctor, please! I need a break!
First a fever and now the chills Pass me some of those magic pills!
My heart is racing like an SST Give it to me straight, Doc. What’s wrong with me?
What’s that you say? It’s love vertigo? There’s no cure? Well, whaddya know!
Author’s Note: Kidding aside, I am so grateful to be doing this well after major surgery. Both Bill and I are delighted with our new-found freedom; he’s been my chauffeur for the past six weeks. I’m really an excellent driver and in the 53 years I’ve been driving, I have never gotten a moving violation (and it’s not because the police have been unable to catch me!). 😎
Written for Friday Fictioneers where our host Rochelle has asked us to use the photo below as inspiration and get creative in 100 words or less, while making every word count. Here’s my flash.
Imagine if you will a girl, her dog and three hapless friends searching for a wizard to grant their deepest wishes.
People love scrappy little pups. But what if the dog was a mangy seagull with a caw like a rusty fan belt? What if his wish was to crow like a mighty rooster, to wake the townspeople with his majestic “cock-a-doodle-doo“?
The wise and benevolent wizard could not fulfill such hopes but his reassuring message was that everyone’s wishes would come true if only they dared to dream.
I do believe that gull with lofty ambitions dared to dream..
While shopping for groceries, I was surprised to see the tomatoes were mostlyorange and looked like sickly miniature pumpkins. Oh, how you mock me, my beloved red Heirlooms!
“Hey, Daryl! Phil! Get a load of this!” neighed Ed as he stared over Bess and Elsie’s fence onto the country road. “Do they really think they’re capable of running? On two legs?? If that don’t beat all!”
“What the heck are they doing?” asked Daryl.
“They’re jogging; humans run around all bandy-legged with arms flailing, getting sweaty, going nowhere in particular and looking pretty dumb while doing it.” Ed explained.
Phil trotted over. “Yeah. I read about these idiots in ‘Horse Beautiful’. It’s some kind of craze, far as I can tell …. some sort of asinine exercise routine.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Look at what we got coming this way, gentlemen. Now that’s some fine-looking little filly!” exclaimed Ed.
“Check out those tiny shorts she’s wearing. She can ride me bareback any time she wants!” Phil declared.
“Man, now that’s one stacked number! I could watch her jog and bounce around all day!” Daryl smacked his lips.
“Hey! What are you three stud farm rejects doing all this way from the barn?” It was Barkley, the yellow lab who lived on the ranch. “Farmer Brown’s gonna have a cow if he hears you jumped the fence again! Best get yourselves back home before someone notices you’re gone. C’mon! Giddy-up, boys!”
“Buzz kill!” snorted Ed and the trio took off.
“Bunch of jackasses!” Barkley yowled indignantly. “Well, good riddance to them and woof to you, my sexy lady. You jog by here often? Have I got a bone for you!”
Written for Friday Fictioneers where our host Rochelle has asked us to use the photo below as inspiration to get creative in 100 words or less, making every word count. Here’s my flash.
My whole life has been nothing but one big joke. I don’t know why I expected otherwise, considering I was raised by a couple of clowns, but I did. Oh, don’t get me wrong; I’m not being derogatory. Not in the least. My parents are clowns .… literally. They are circus clowns and so am I.
Raffles and Mittens are my parents. Some of my aunts, uncles and cousins are Poodles, Flopsy, Jingles, Pogo and Skippy. Rumor has it that my great-grandparents were Bozo and Clarabell but we never know what to take seriously in this family.
We all live in a rinky-dink circus trailer and if you think walking into pantyhose drying in the bathroom is annoying, try existing with a squirting flower, a megaphone, a pop gun and a seltzer bottle every day of your life. This clowning around life ain’t that easy!
Anyway, we needed some mode of transportation to get around town for shopping and appointments so we went to the used car lot. Of course, the used car salesman tried to talk us into a clown car, which was terribly condescending. Clowns are people, too, dammit!
That’s when my boyfriend, Stumpy, had an idea. Stumpy is a coulro* and the best clown on stilts there ever was. Everybody looks up to him! With bicycle parts salvaged from the junkyard, he assembled the Clown Limo. With his long legs, Stumpy can drive us anywhere at all.
*Coulro is a Greek word that means “stilt walker” or “clown“. It may come from the ancient Greek word kōlobathristēs, which means “one who goes on stilts“.
Written for Friday Fictioneers where our host Rochelle has asked us to use the photo below as inspiration and get creative in 100 words or less, making every word count. Here’s my flash.
Punch – that misogynistic bastard – was out cold, spent from guzzling booze and pounding Judy like a side of beef. She slipped him Valium to keep him zonked and shackled his wrists.
Policeman Jack, Judy’s lover, stood guard outside; Punch would never escape before the tide washed him away.
Judy’s long gone now on a slow boat to a podunk beach town called Atlantic City.
A year went by; nobody asked about Punch or Judy. How quickly they forgot.
When Policeman Jack received a letter from the States, inside was a ticket to Atlantic City. Judy was true to her word.
Written for Friday Fictioneers where our gracious host, Rochelle, has asked us to use the photo below as inspiration to get creative in 100 words or less, making every word count. Here’s my flash.
* In times of war or siege, Italian families would vacate their homes and rent apartments in safer areas. In order to protect themselves they would hire soldiers to sleep on the floor in shifts. The meaning of the phrase “going to the mattresses” symbolizes the association in Italian folk-memory of mattresses with safety in wartime. The phrase wasn’t well known outside the US and Italy prior to the Godfather movies. It was used there, and later in The Sopranos, to mean “preparing for battle”.
When Kay met Michael, scenes from an Italian wedding (Godfather, 1972) featuring Al Martino as Johnny Fontane. This is “I Have But One Heart (O Marenariello)”
I was coming up empty today, friends … uninspired, tired, and dragging my sorry ass around the house. Then I came across this brilliant post by my friend, Bluebird of Bitterness, and all was right in my little world. What’s that you say? You don’t like cats? Oh, FFS, don’t go getting your knickers in a twist; you don’t have to love cats or the theatre to appreciate these funnies. Blue always saves what is considered the best for the last. Let’s see if you agree. And while you’re here, check our what else is on Blue’s site; you’ll be glad you did!
“Kevin! Wake up, man! You gotta see this. Wake up!”
“Quit it, Luke! I’m trying to sleep!” Kevin mumbled crossly. The disgusting smell of stale beer, Slim Jims and weed slammed Kevin in the face; gagging, he pushed his brother away.
“C’mon, Kev. Something heavy happened down at the beach, man. I swear it’s not of this world, bro!”
“The only thing ‘not of this world, bro’ is your breath. You’re stoned, Luke; go to sleep.”
“I swear on the Bible, Kevin. If you don’t see this, you’re gonna kick yourself.”
Kevin sighed deeply and swung his legs out of bed. “Alright, man. I’m up. Let’s get this over with.”
Kevin and Luke drove out to the Pacific Palisades beach where Luke had his sighting. Kevin recognized the beach right away.
“Hey, Luke … doesn’t your buddy Gonzo clean this beach?”
“Far out, man! I forgot about that. This is gonna blow his mind!”
When they reached Luke’s spot, he dropped to the sand and began to belly crawl to the top, motioning for Kevin to do the same.
“Check it out, Kev. Have you ever seen anything like this, man? They’re crop circles, like in that movie!”
“You got that right, Luke. This really is something else! Could be an alien vehicle way out on the left side. If I squint I can make out the words ‘GONZO’S LUNAR ROVER. I BRAKE FOR WEED!’ Brilliant detective work, Carl Sagan! C’mon, bro. I’m buying breakfast. I’ll explain it on the way.”