I found the teapot I’ve been looking for for years! The spout is cracked, the flowers are faded, and the leaves are not quite the same shape as I remember. But I’m sure it’s the right one! I’ll put it in a place of honour, with the other two-thousand teapots.
General Fiction
#SoCS – Amber and Ash
I sit at the traffic light and watch the amber bulb blink on and off. My car is almost out of gas and I wonder how much longer the electricity will stay running. But does it matter? The slain lay behind me, their brains eaten. Now that I’ve finished off the last of the zombies, I have nothing left to eat. Nothing but ash. And zombie brains.
This post is part of Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Click the following link and join in! https://lindaghill.com/2016/06/10/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-1116/
The Chronicles of Mary, Part 4
Tired of taking public transportation, Mary bought an old used car. One day on her way back to the parking lot at the end of the busy workday, she was surprised to see a man and a woman trying to unlock her car with a coathanger.
“Can I help you?” Mary asked the woman, who was standing back watching.
The woman eyed the man shiftily and said, “We can’t get in.”
“Here, let me try.” Mary took the coathanger from the man, thinking this might be a chance to have a little fun. She fiddled with the coathanger, moving it this way and that, but she couldn’t quite reach the knob inside to open the door. “Nope,” she said after a while. “I can’t get it.
“Oh wait,” Mary went on. “I think I have a key.”
Mary pulled out her car key and opened the door. The man and the woman ran away. Mary laughed all the way home.
Jus’ another day at the farm
It all started when Billy took it on hisself to drive the tractor. I told him again and again, stay off the damn tractor. But would he listen? A’course not.
I was doin’ my work, ya know, muckin’ out stalls when I heard the darn thing drive away. Now you might say I shouldn’a left it runnin’. An’ I prolly shouldn’a left it sittin’ with all them boxes stacked up beside it. He wouldn’a bin able to get up there if I hadn’a done that. But he was determined.
An’ what’s the first thing he did once the machine started rollin’? ‘At’s right. Straight for Bessie. He’s had it in for that cow since he first got here.
So now I got m’self a dilemma. Do I shoot Billy? Or do I jus’ leave him be an’ hope he doesn’ get ahold of the tractor again? ‘Coz there’s still Rosemarie to worry about. An’ she’s my best milker.
Nope, I think I’ll jus’ take Billy out to the back forty and put an end to him. Too bad though. I was gettin’ kinda fond’a that goat.
Growin’ Up ‘n’ Misunderstandin’
“But Mama, I wanna see him again. He loves me!”
“You are not goin’ out with that kid, and that’s final.”
“You don’t understand! He’s the peach fuzz on my cherry pie! He’s the whipped toppin’ on my sundae!”
“I never! That’s ‘xactly why you’re not seein’ him again! Talkin’ like that to your own mother!”
“But… but… I’ll die without him!”
“Nonsense! There’s other goats in the barn.”
“Don’t you mean ‘fish in the sea’?”
“Fish? I thought we were talking ’bout Billy! You mean Johnny? Sure, you can go out with him.”
Out there
If only my cold fingers could just grasp at the lifeline that is sobriety, hearth and home, family… For want of the gloves of compassion, I sit here under my bridge and while away the time, reciting poetry to rats, and sleeping in the grime made up of luckier men’s footprints.
The sun riseth upon fangs of dogs, as hungry as I. My first thought is not to fight back. But where would I be then? Surely they’d not rip through these layers of disgust that I wrap myself in. No. I shall live to behold the fathomless expanse of stars, and wonder what the universe I once belonged to will grace me with next. Long past are the days when, in my delusion, I believed I had control.
Morning People
“Hello, June!”
“Ugh. What are you calling me for at this hour in the morning? I haven’t even had coffee.”
“It’s that time again. You gotta wake up!”
“Why are you always so damned perky? I hate morning people.”
“Ha! I’m just going to bed.”
“Show off.”
“So, you up?”
“Yeah, I’m up.”
“Excellent. May, out.”
A Resignation
Dear Boss,
I’m writing to let you know that it is with regret that I hand in my resignation. I no longer feel comfortable doing my job.
It started with Simmons at the water cooler. He told me that Marsha is sleeping with Johnson, but she wants it kept quiet because her husband might find out.
As Chief Gossip and Director of Jokes, I’m afraid I’m unable to restrain myself. Considering Marsha’s mouthful of jagged, dangerous-looking braces and Johnson’s wooden leg, I’m sure you can understand my predicament.
It’s been a pleasure working with you, particularly during the big printer-blow-up incident of ’13. I heard, due to a miracle of modern medicine, they actually managed to sew Thompson’s testicles back on. Still, the plaque we hung in the printer room is an excellent reminder for everyone why it’s not a good idea to photocopy one’s posterior.
I wish you all the best in the future.
Sincerely,
Bozo
How many times?
“How many times do I have to tell you to put your shoes away?” or, “How many times do have to tell you, don’t leave the door open, the dog’ll get out?”
I heard it every day, growing up. You’d think I’da learnt. But no.
Now, fifty years later, Mom’s gone and so’s the dog. With my shoes.
Prompted by the Daily Post with today’s word, Countless.
Wanted: grammarian
50yo WASP male seeks female aged 20-65 for serious relationship.
The lady I’m looking for must be outgoing, fun-loving, faithful, and committed. Must love beards, and be okay with a man who limps, has one arm, has one good eye, and flies. Must love planes and fish. Must have good grammar.
Linda G. Hill 