Category Archives: fiction

“May I take your order?”

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He looked damn good to her from a few car lengths away. Definite eye candy. 

“I should get his number. I might be 38 years old, but I still got it,” Brandy kidded herself. 

The restaurant clerk was surely checking her out, so she flashed her cutest smile, then blew a cascade of smoke out the open car window, ashed her cigarette, and inspected her rear-view mirror’s reflection. 

Upon reaching the window to pay, she couldn’t believe who greeted her. “Hi, Mrs. Jackson,” said her oldest son’s childhood friend. “It’ll be $5.95. I’ll be right back with your order.” 

100-word challenge prompt:  candy 

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image: Pajero by CarTestr

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Time for a career move

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With the little one-hitter tucked easily inside his back pocket, he hoped it looked more like a tire gauge than a pipe if someone suspected anything. Rick toked up from the front seat inconspicuously parked just behind the office building, or so he thought. The blacked-out windows negated any need for shade but being tucked under the trees helped him feel a little more incognito. 

He grabbed some Visine from the console, aimed some toward the blood shot, and let loose a stream of Axe spray before returning to his disastrous call center cube. The weekend couldn’t come soon enough. 

100-word challenge:  disaster

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Making Danica Patrick Proud

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Usually light-hearted and felicitous, Fannie appeared befuddled. The quaff normally perched atop her head in platinum perfection, instead shot out in all directions, and her frippery lay uncharacteristically in disarray. Fannie didn’t feel her normal self. 

The children fluttered about her like mob of meerkats, just as frantic as she, before loading into their Mercedes sedan. The nanny usually drove them to school, so everyone’s anxiety ran high. Mother’s driving expertise equated amateur level. 

A previous trip ended in such embarrassment. Last time she delivered them to school, arrival was marked with sirens sounding and lights in the rear-view mirror.

 

100-word challenge:  amateur 

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Photo: Markus Kneibes via Flickr

 

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Timothy Schande

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He wanted to see Jennifer again before everything got all fakakta. Their relationship was building nicely prior to arrest. Now Timothy wasn’t so sure.

He’d see a judge soon and could then cypher what came next. Just his luck to get popped right before he met someone he could finally introduce to his bubbie. A goy, nonetheless. She’d have been surprised.

A guy in the next cell kept yelling about something being “otra bobas,” but Tim knew no Spanish. The fella was de-toxing or still off his nut from a wild misadventure the previous night. Maybe something resembling his own.

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100-word challenge:  arrest

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Get Her Freak On

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Tiny red and blue dots vibrated inside Joleen’s eyelids and fixated her in a false somnambulant stupor. Her consciousness stopped at the intersection of wakefulness and sleep when the screen door’s slap brought her bolt upright.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jed asked.

“Catching some z’s before tonight’s party.” She blocked an offending sun ray with a skinny arm gone tingly from its perch across the porch swing’s back. She gave him that suspicious sidelong glance often given people like him who can’t read without their lips moving.

“Don’t worry,” she assured. “”I’ll be ready to lap-dance soon enough.”

 

100 word challenge:  skinny

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photo: pinterest.co.uk

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An Inopportune Accident

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Rain fell for days on end. Its pallor hung like a sopping blanket left on porch rails in perpetuity.                                                                                              

She knocked tentatively on the door, both fearing someone might answer and still hoping they would. Tires on wet pavement caused the slide and bad news to deliver to a potential dog owner. 

A curtain pulled sideways as someone inside held as much dreaded curiosity as she did near to bursting. The hand proffered a glimpse at his visitor and wiped hungry slobber slipping downward.

Canine not on the menu, he’d order up roadkill regardless. The driver looked even more appetizing.

100 word challenge: order 100-word-challenge

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Blind Faith in Tomorrows

My 22nd birthday blurs into distant memory’s oblivion. Ancient history, it seems. Why did I ever trust that drunken punk enough to fly down a county highway on the back of his crotch rocket? Woe to imagine our parents’ horror at having to identify the remains in morgue boxes had one gravel slide caught narrow tires just right.

Naive bravado haunts me, though. The innocent ignorance of not caring about a possible tomorrow, just the next beer tab to be popped. A boy to kiss. No future prospects considered. Yet another night of fun.

photo by Jake Lichman

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Karma’s Cut

“Damn!” Mandy hollered when the sharp-nozzled vacuum hose cascaded to meet shinbone flesh already scarred by early-teen shaving hacks. “That’s gonna hurt me,” she lamented.

Stooping to retrieve the utensil, she peeked under her armpit in case anyone witnessed her sucking up passenger glass Pam kicked out the night before. “Just act casual. Can’t have anybody see me clean the blood.”

A high cost would come with suspicion of just what evidence was actually being purged. “A little bird might sing to the cops,” Mandy mouthed under her breath as she pulled of the Quick Wash and onto the street.    

100-Word Challange: Bird

Image courtesy Heath Parsons (creative commons) via Flickr

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I Feel Fine

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Sherrell bid the year adieu at midnight with a resounding, “Good riddance!” as she gulped the dregs of her gin-and-tonic in a final act of defiance against the year now finished. Gripping the highball glass in her hand, she resisted throwing it against the wall to drive home the point. Surviving the prior 365 days, regardless of its physical and emotional difficulties wracked upon her, required all the willpower she’d been able to muster.  

All other party-goers around the room raised their drinks to toast the incoming new year, circled noisemakers in the air, and blew paper horns in celebration. She silently envied their jubilation and wished she shared such a sense of optimism. The next 12 months surely held a more positive outcome, if only she could imagine it.

Her friend, Frank, grabbed Sherrell’s hand to swing her around. “Come on, Sher, let’s dance! ”

Frank talked her into coming to the party regardless of all her excuses meant to avoid it. “No, thanks,” she told him. “I’m going to just grab a drink.” She turned her empty glass upside down to emphasize the point, suddenly glad she hadn’t catapulted it into the wall after all.

He wouldn’t let go of her hand, though. “You’re divorced now. It’s time you had some fun!”

If that springtime change hadn’t been enough, a car accident in late June caused so many lost days at work they let Sherrell go. “I’m too exhausted, Frank. My new job has me worn out. I just want another drink.” 

Frank’s arms swung akimbo while his pelvis gyrated violently and eyebrows also pranced quickly up and down, as if those motions might convince her to join the fray of other people in relative expressions of excitement. He waggled a finger enticingly toward where she stood on the sideline listless and brooding. 

Sherrell couldn’t help chuckling at Frank’s dorky invitation. He could’ve asked someone else to come with him who, most likely, would be a much funner companion. This was one night in the earth’s last full rotation of the sun that allows complete abandon of all seriousness. Life provided her enough seriousness in that time frame. 

“Oh, shiiiiit, girl! That’s my jam!” Frank bellowed when REM’s “End of the World As We Know It” blasted through the speakers. His body went into a wild spin, head whirling on the axis of his neck, arms now floated askew.

Sherrell recognized those old chords and Michael Stipe’s voice from the past, what seemed like a lifetime ago, when she had far fewer serious concerns than now. The portent of those lyrics mirrored the past period of existence, a stage now — thank God — behind her.

Her shoulders collapsed in capitulation, and her feet moved forward, seemingly of their own volition. “Screw it! Let’s go, Frank. I wanna dance!” 

→→→→→ Here’s to a better 2019! ÷←←←←←

Day 1 photo courtesy of Matt Preston via Flickr through Creative Commons license

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The Day’s Catch

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His concentration went all to hell when that first lightning bolt flashed toward the horizon. It’s hard to pay attention to anything else when your butt is floating atop a plastic boat at risk of the next spark actually hitting the water beneath you. Finding a place to go ashore immediately became Tommy’s priority.

Warnings from his mother to watch for pop-up storms didn’t keep him from going out that morning. She didn’t want her son fishing alone in the first place.

Mom had cautioned, “There’s no fooling around with bad weather. Nature always wins. I’ve told you what happened to us on a float trip when I was young.” Using metal canoes meant a friend got hurt when lightning struck the surface somewhere upriver. They made it home feeling plenty scared but lucky.

With gear quickly stored, Tommy paddled for safety. Strong wind spiked waves that rocked the small kayak as rain began to fall, but heightened senses seemed to aid his rowing speed regardless. He thought, “Who woulda guessed these sticks could make me move this fast?” Boulders along the lake’s bank made for a formidable landing spot, though.

Both fast-moving dark clouds and Mom’s harping on bad stuff clouded the kid’s judgement when alighting shore. His inexpensive little boat found the sharpest rock possible, which shoved a hole in its flimsy hull. “Noooo,” Tommy hollered on impact. He had stood up at just that same moment and toppled forward to sprawl his thin limbs across the jagged shoreline.

Regardless of the pain, the boy’s first thought was, “Oh, man. I’m going to be in so much trouble!” He lay there on the rocks hurting but only dreading how he’d have to tell his mother about the damaged kayak.

Radiant beams shown into his eyes and broke that distraction at the abrupt arrival of a car on a berm adjacent the strand. He wiped rain from his face and blinked into the headlights’ glare. Relief washed over him to see his mother alight from the Honda and start toward him. She yelled, “Tommy, I’m so glad to see you’re off the water!”

“Me, too, Mom,” he mumbled. “Me, too.”

Two Word Tuesday writing prompt – radiant

 

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