fiction

Stray Livestock

“I’ve just found out,” said Lum, “that there was a cow walking on the Major Deegan Expressway in the Bronx.”

 

 

“I don’t believe you,” replied Abner. 

 

 

“I kid you not,” the former insisted.

 

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” his friend replied.  “That’s the last thing anyone would expect. Everyone knows a cow would be smart enough to Drive.”

 

 

 

Rules of the hop:
Write 6 Sentences. No more. No less.
Use the current week’s prompt word.
Come back here on Thursday, link your post…
Spread the word and put in a good one to your fellow writers 🙂PROMPT WORD: DRIVE

 

Here’s my very first ever entry for Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt.    I have no idea what Clarklike  means, but that’s what she is.

 

 

Annunci

The Self~Professed Lothario

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Not counting the Itlo Club, Curly’s Bar is the pride and joy of Hilldale, Pennsylvania.  Hilldale, like most other boroughs in that part of Pennsylvania, is surrounded by the Pocono Mountains, the Susquehanna River,  and countless miles of Anfractuous roads, which Stretch out as far as the eye of man can see. 

 

 

One evening, at about Twilight, Elmer and Albert made their Customary trip to the local saloon.  All went reasonably well until Sadie, the local femme fatale, presumed to Sashay into view.  Albert, who’s always been smitten with her, was somewhat Tipsy by then.

 

 

He approached his ideal woman, Wine in hand, and asked her to Dance.  Having always fancied himself quite the Charming bloke, he never for a moment suspected that she could possibly have understood him to be anything but ever so delightfully Playful.

 

 

Unfortunately for him, the object of his affections assumed that he was just another annoying barfly, interested only in getting a few extra Shiggles to show for his time there. 

 

 

Thus were permanently ended his hopes for romance.

 

 

 

Here we have Wordle #125.  This week’s words are  anfractuous, stretch, bar, wine, sashay, tipsy, shiggles, dance, charming, playful, twilight, and customary

 

 

As always there’s an excessively cumbersome word among them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Where Is She?

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Policemen arrived at the home of Mrs. O’Reilly, a kindly old woman in our neighborhood.  People would always Say she was so quiet and polite.  When the constables went inside, all they saw were a box of Tissues, her Rosary~which she had prayed daily without  fail for several decades~and an expired bus Pass.

 

 

Eventually they  climbed her Dusty stairway to her Attic.  One of the officers, upon peering out a Window, in the direction of  a nearby Stream, saw a couple he couldn’t recognize.  The woman was carrying something that looked strikingly similar to one of Mrs. O’Reilly’s Purses.

 

 

Eventually, after having thoroughly searched her house, they put all her personal effects, including old Shoes, into a marked Bag, and decided to Go back to their station.

 

 

This is my first attempt at  Sunday’s Whirlygig.   This week, we use the words purses, attic, dusty, pass, rosary, shoes, tissues, window, stream, go, bags, say from David Keplinger’s ‘Making Arrangements’.

 

Quite A Letdown

It was a quiet Monday morning.  Humpty Dumpty arrived promptly at his job interview. 

 

 

“It says on your resume, Mr. Dumpty,” the interviewer pointed out, “That you have quite a long history of being a symbol.”

 

 

Never the least bit shy about tooting his own horn, Humpty pointed out that “Yes, sir, I’ve represented, over the years, everything from Adam and Eve to the Protestant Rebellion of 1517. 

 

 

“Dumpty,” the personnel manager went on to explain, “I think there’s been a bit of a  mistake here.  While I’m quite favorably impressed with your outstanding credentials, all we want is someone to pose for our new breakfast menu.”

 

 

Find out more here about Main March Madness .

A Most Interesting Confrontation

“I’m telling you, man,” Humpty told Tweedle,” the guy at the door looked just like Alan Napier’s portrayal of Alfred Pennyworth”.

 

 

“Do tell,” his befuddled friend said.

 

 

The former went on to explain, “All I did was take a swig of me daily pint while putting away me sleeping bag. Next thing I knew Alfred showed up and I followed him.”

 

“Careful what you drink, bruh,” was Tweedle’s response.

 

 

“Within minutes we were marooned on a desert island, surrounded by deranged octopuses.”

 

 

His friend simply gazed at him in amazement, breathlessly taking it all in.

 

 

“We wanted to run,” Humpty said, “But you know how molluscs are. We were terrified they might chase us.

 

 

“Hey”, his friend couldn’t resist telling him, “If you had to get stuck like that with a character from a ’60’s super hero show, it’s too bad you couldn’t have been with Bruce Lee’s Kato from ‘The Green Hornet’. Now There’s a guy with fists of steel! He could have taken those octopuses but good!” 

 

 

“Oh well”, Tweedle continued, “I’ll say one thing for you. At least you’re not some kind of a total wastrel who should be locked up in a metal cage.  Your imagination alone more than keeps things hopping around here.img_3710

 

Here’s yet another excursion into Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie ,a work of fiction based upon ten relatively easy vocabulary words.

 

The Dead Writers’ Society

mindlovemiseryHarry and Blanche finally found their dream house. Having always been both nature lovers and bookworms, they’d fantasized for years about the perfect combination of their two loves.

 

“You’ll see, sweetheart,” the proud husband gushed. “Once all these trees start blooming, it will be such a beautiful environment.”

 

 

“Yes, Harry,” Blanche intoned. “Until then we can get our books arranged. We’ll start with the Romantic poetry and Regency period novels. Then we can move on to the Victorian novels and poetry.

 

You never know, of course, when Coventry Patmore and Jane Austen might stop by~or the Bronte’s and Browning’s~perhaps even the Shelley’s,” she imagined aloud.

 

“People will claim it can’t be done,” Harry admitted reluctantly. “‘You do understand they’re all currently deceased’, they’ll point out.”

 

 

“Little do folks know,” Blanche continued, “The rapport we’ve always had with the great literary giants of yore. Of course, all anyone needs is a library card and a keen set of eyes and ears. With our new purchase, though, we have even much more of an advantage.”

 

 

Here’s me entry, based upon a photo prompt from Tale Weaver #172

 

 

That One Minor Detail

sunday-photo-22-aprilIt was Walpurgis Night.  The Angelus bells at St. Gabriel’s tolled, reminding the villagers that the Moment of Truth had at last arrived.

 

“You understand the tradition, Braithwaite,” Lilith bluntly reminded her nephew.  “The hundred years are up.  Drink one.”

 

 

Each century, on this date, the oldest unmarried Earnshaw man is required to decide which, among these glasses, he will drink from.

 

“Remember, Old Boy,” she continued. “One will render you a madman. One will merely result in the death of someone you don’t know.  The remaining glass is quite harmless and does nothing.”

 

Braithwaite had spent many long, sleepless nights pondering the consequences of his inevitable decision. There was one detail he simply couldn’t understand:  Why was each liquid, in each glass, tilted at such an odd diagonal angle?

 

“It’s quite funny,” he thought, “How one minor detail~or was it minor?~can be so distracting.” All the while he sat motionless, quite mesmerized, wondering what Uncle Basil might have done when his turn arrived. He reached out , at the decisive instant, for a glass.

 

“All is lost no matter what,” he thought. “I shall see you soon, Uncle Basil,” as he took an inevitable sip.

 

Here’s me very first attempt at Sunday Photo Fiction .  Each week we are to write a 200~word (or fewer) story based upon a photo prompt. Mine is 197~words.  Thank Al Forbes for this week’s photograph.

Cha Cha Cha

tltweek115“Since we’re stuck up here anyway until further notice,” he asked his new acquaintance, “would you like to dance, my lovely friend?”

 

“Oh, most certainly, kind Sir,” was the enchanting damsel’s delighted reply.

 

Do please wait a minute,” he complained, “as I retie my shoelaces.”

 

 

Here’s me latest post for 3LineTales.  It’s a short weekly piece based upon a photo prompt.

 

 

 

 

What Pegman Saw~Scylla and Charybdis

billinudgel

  Harvey and George finally got a chance to spend a few minutes away from Muriel and Gloria while they were on vacation.

 

“Yeah, Bruh,” Harvey gushed to his oldest friend, “This is the life. If we could live close to a place like this, life would be an absolute feast. Don’t listen to those lunatic girls, with their fad diets.”

 

“Absolutely!” George admitted. “I’m so sick and tired of all their healthy fads, for fear of made up cooties like lactose, gluten, and crap like that.  They’re just money~making scams anyway.”

 

Eventually, after having had too much of a feast, the boys started feeling wiped out. Exhausted, they asked for some Alka~Seltzer. George pointed out: “Just because their diet is a disease, doesn’t mean ours is necessarily a perfect cure. We pushed it too far and it became an equivalent disease.”

 

 

This week’s What Pegman Saw  takes us to New South Wales in Australia. The picture was supplied by KRawson

Their Satanic Majesties’ Request

“You know those novels and short stories, like Oscar Wilde’s ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’, and Kafka’s ‘The Metamorphosis?’  Elzo asked his friend Ennio on the phone.

 

“Yeah?” the unsuspecting sidekick admitted.

 

“Well,” the former tried to explain, “I think we have to talk.”

 

“Hey,” Ennio stammered. “I’ve been trying to arrange this blind date for you and Sharon for the past six months!  She’s such a sweet girl. I’m sure she’ll humor you.” 

 

 

Reluctantly, Elzo agreed to meet her at a nearby restaurant for supper.

 

First there were the introductions.

 

 

So,” she started. “Ennio says you’re a history teacher.”

 

“Yes,” he chimed in. “How do you like being a nurse?”

 

Amazingly the otherwise inevitable small talk went on quite well. The friends gawked back and forth at each other, wondering how she could possibly not have noticed anything’s being amiss.

 

 

Eventually Ennio and his girlfriend Mabel excused themselves and left early so the two could be alone.

 

Sensing that now was his perfect chance, Elzo asked Sharon for an explanation.

 

 

“Why haven’t you even so much as flinched?” he wondered.

 

 

“Friend,” she replied slowly, “I am a minion from a Satanic cult.  I merely assumed you were one of us. Haven’t you ever heard that Vishnu was once incarnated as a boar?”

 

 

From there she proceeded to explain to him all about Manicheans, gnostics, gods ranging from Pan to Moloch.

 

 

The befuddled swain tried, as gallantly as he could, to humor her for as long as it was unavoidably necessary.  At the end of the evening he politely said his good~byes and left.

 

 

The next day Ennio and Mabel couldn’t wait for a full account of all that transpired over the course of the fateful tryst.

 

 

“Well maybe I’m in no position to be picky these days, considering my circumstances,” he explained, “but have you ever gotten the impression that maybe someone’s just not quite all that nice of a catch?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Welcome back to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie , where we, weekly, write a story based upon a photo prompt. This week Nekneeraj, our host, gives us an image by Igor Morski.