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Archive for the ‘Fiction’ Category


Scene in which Ambrose a vampire like creature is sitting on a roof while Madison who has slipped is hanging on the edge. He’s asked to help, but she tells him she doesn’t need his help. —-

I clung to the shingles on the roof’s edge. My hands slipped and I lost my hold.

Time paused and everything seemed to move in slow motion.

I fell backwards. Ambrose’s face moved further away. My arms were flailing, my hands reaching for him. The pounding of my heart filled my ears.

The cold night air pushed past me. as my head tipped further back, I could see the inked night above me. The stars. There were so many for being in the city. I could see my hair in front of me. Would this kill me or merely main me?

My heart pounded.  The north star? I found myself searching for it. My heart beat. Funny I was falling and looking for a star.

Time caught up to me and I slammed to a stop.

I felt no pain. Had I hit the pavement so hard I felt nothing? My heart beat, I was alive.

Ambrose’s face hovered above mine.

He smiled. “I guess you needed me after all.”

He’d caught me.

My arms and legs began to flail again. But instead of reaching for him, I was pushing him away.

Arrogant Bastard.

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photo_zps39f3d4ee

Some of you may remember my young nephew the Pistol. His one and only Grandpa died. Now the Pistol and one of his cousins Katie are the youngest of their siblings. The other kids are teenagers.

The main service was over and family members were coming forward to relate their stories. The adults went first followed by the teens. No one thought about the five year olds. In awesome Pistol style, my little nephew stood up and loudly announced, “I have something to say.”

The Pistol climbed the steps up front. And he began.

“Grampa won’t be able to give Katie rides on the tractor anymore, because … well … he’s dead. And now I would like to sing God Bless America.”  At which point, he began belting it out. The audience rose and joined him.

It was a lovely way to end a funeral. Pistol, you’re awesome

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I couldn’t find my jeans. I was in a hurry since I had a “meeting” and waited till the last minute to get ready. Story of my life.

I raced to the laundry room, maybe my jeans were in there. My son was home doing his laundry. I glanced at the piles of clean and folded laundry. (He’s way too neat. Didn’t get it from me.)

“Are my jeans in here somewhere?”

He pulled a load from the dryer. “Here, these are your.”

There on top were my jeans. I grabbed them figuring I didn’t have time to handle the whole load right then. Besides if I leave them he’ll put them away later.

“Hey,” his voice stopped me, “take the whole load, they’re all yours.”

“You sound just like my mother.” I said, grabbing the bundle of clothes, not meaning this as a compliment.

To which my son replied, “Funny, you sound just like mine.”

 

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people windy picnic

Every morning my obnoxious alarm goes off. Blinded by daylight, I slap it a couple of times and stumble to the kitchen. I stand in front of the open refrigerator door, drink milk straight from the carton, and grab a hard boiled egg.

I love cold hard boiled eggs so I make them on Sunday afternoon and put them in a container ready for the week. It adds to my mindless routine. I love mindless in the morning.

But one day it was different. Saturday morning, my siblings decided to get together. Early. Really early. They know I don’t do early, especially not on Saturday. Early Saturday in Deidra time means I’ll be 2 hours late. Whatever time you set.

To help me with this, they decided to meet at my house and for my convenience, they let themselves in. They’re really thoughtful that way.

An issue arose during the early morning gathering which has forced me to issue the following warning.

To the person who replaced my boiled egg with a frozen egg,

I’m narrowing the suspect pool. The noose is tightening. Feel my breath on the back of your neck as I close in. In the words of the immortal wicked witch of Oz.

“I will get you and your little dog too.”

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5 (2)

Cheese should be service room temperature. I learned that is France. I just took the cheese out of the frig, so I’m sitting on it trying to warm it up with the bun power. See, I am a super hero with super buns.

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32 (10)

The following is a series of short random thoughts I had during the day when I should have been doing something productive.

I didn’t stretch my jaw enough before I started talking I think I pulled a muscle. Now I have a headache. Am I the only person alive who has to stretch her jaw muscles to start the day?

I was feeling nostalgic thinking back on my childhood, so I decided to recreate a summer camp memory. I took a shower in cold water pretending I was back in girl scouts … I remembered why I hated girl scouts.

How is it the blinking light on my phone saying I have emails or tweets wakes me up, but I sleep through two alarms? Maybe that’s my super power and I’m now a super hero.

I hate it when I have to go to the doctor for a shot. The shot doesn’t really bother me. It’s my doctor. He has osteoporosis and his nurse has arthritis in her hands. Who do I chose? I wind up flipping a coin,

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I’ve been a bit under the weather. The doctor prescribed me a cough medicine with codeine.

Wrapped in a warm blanket snuggle into the depths of the sofa, the darkness had settled and with it a drowsy drugged feeling. I hadn’t coughed in almost an hour.

The light from the television pushing just enough light into the room to make out the patches on Grandma’s old quilt.

Soft elevator music played in the background while a man in the lobby of a large office building buffed the floor. A comforting fog moved into my mind.

What was the name of this movie? My mind drifted like a cloud.

A deafening crash echoed through the room as a body slams on top of a truck on the screen in front of me.

My chest was heaving my body tense, I was hardly able to process what just happened. I looked around at the people watching TV with me. They were staring at me with open mouthed amazement.

“Did I scream out loud?”

“Yeah,” my roomie replied.

I screamed like I have never screamed before. Hollywood pays people for this kind of high pitched, gut wrenching scream of terror. I tell you this so that you may learn a lesson from it. If you are taking cough medicine with codeine, do not watch a movie called Devil. I had to pray myself to sleep last night.

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After hours of shopping, I was trying on slacks in a brightly lit dressing room. Finally, I found a pair that fit perfectly.  Tight enough in the right places and loose in others.

When I stepped out of the dressing room to show my friend, she said, “You have the ass that could rule the world.”

Maybe I could rule the world. I seriously considered her statement before realizing there are already enough asses ruling out there now.

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203 a

It was early one spring when I found myself on a French highway between Normandy and Paris with my panties strung on a line across the back window of a silver sports car. French truck drivers, not unlike American truck drivers were quick to express their approval of my delicates flapping in the breeze as I zoomed back to Paris.

This would never have happened if I hadn’t decide liquor was more important than panties. You see I worked in Europe three weeks of every month. So naturally, I decided I could forego clothing to create luggage space for more wine and champagne.

This time my brilliance got the best of me. I found myself in the unfortunate position of being in a hotel in rural France without clean panties.

Never fear, I thought, a quick wash in the sink and they’ll be dry and ready for the flight back to the U.S. in the morning.

However, come morning my “delicates” were still wet. Not to be outwitted by panties, I grabbed a string from the hotel owner and strung it across the back window of the sports car I had rented. I set off for Paris, my windows down and my line of undies flapping behind me. Admiring truck drivers honked at me all the way back to Paris.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t calculated air speed and drag, not being of the mathematically minded. As I pulled into the car rental lot to the shocked horror of the Parisian employees, one end of the string had pulled loose and the whole string was waving like a kite high above the back of that sports car shining in the morning sun.

They found me ripping my underwear out of the back window and shoving it into my suitcase just in time to catch my flight. They didn’t even had the decency to look haughty.

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3 (2)

My Boss has been curious about Twitter. His daughter has an account and he wanted to check out what she might be up to. So he created an account.

The next day he came to me and said, “I’m not sure how, but my daughter figured out I was following her.”

I asked, “What’s your user ID?”

He said, “His first and last name.”

“I think that might be the issue.”

____________________________________________

He sent me a text that said “What’s your phone number?”

I sent back, “I think you just texted it.”

____________________________________________

My boss has the same first name as someone else I know. I was going to be working late so I wrote the following email.

“Dear Tom,

I’m working late tonight. I’ll have to cancel dinner.

Love you, DD”

I accidentally sent the email to my boss, who wrote back –

“We need to finish all the test cases tonight. I’m going to pick up some pizzas.

Tom, your boss not the other one.

P.S. I love you too.”

 

I love my boss. He understands me better than most, nobody’s perfect.

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