I hate it when I’m working late at night. All’s quiet and dark, when my cursor starts moving across the screen like the pointer on a Ouija Board. It scares the crap out of me. I’m like, “Grandma?”
Archive for the ‘flash fiction’ Category
The Haunting
Posted in animals, art, comedian, comic, entertainment, family, fantasy, Fantasy/Scifi, Fiction, flash fiction, humor, life, literature, photography, sarcasm, short story, Uncategorized, writer, Writing, tagged author, comedian, comedy, family. job, funny, humor, humour, job, laugh, life, writer, writing on September 19, 2016| 57 Comments »
Your Sweat Doesn’t Calm Me
Posted in art, entertainment, Fiction, flash fiction, humor, life, photography, sarcasm, short story, Uncategorized, writer, Writing, tagged Short story on September 17, 2016| 8 Comments »
“I can’t believe she wants us in at six. It’s one in the morning,” I’m complaining to the rest of my team members on the verge of another meltdown.
“I’m exhausted,” another of my team members, Kevin confesses.
We pile into the waiting taxi, a minivan that can hold us all.
“We’re in Paris and we haven’t seen anything that isn’t between the hotel and the office.” Sarah agrees, sounding as frustrated as I feel.
The van pulls to a stop in front of the hotel.
“We just have to hold it together for just two more weeks,” says Kyle, our 6’2” cheerleader, trying to rally us as he opens the van door.
I climb out of the van.
“We’ve been working like this for six weeks. I can’t think anymore,” I say, yelling at the rest of the team on the verge of another meltdown.
Kyle grabs the back of my head and shoves my face into his armpit.
“What are you doing?” I ask or maybe scream, smacking him with my ineffectual fists.
“Calming you down. Male musk has a calming effect on females.”
“Do I seem calm?” I’m still struggling to extract my head from his armpit.
“If you would just let biology work,” he says, finally releasing my head.
“I’m going to let anatomy work if you ever do that again.”
My Mind’s Eye Needs Glasses
Posted in art, books, comedian, comic, entertainment, fantasy, Fiction, flash fiction, humor, life, literature, Personal, photography, sarcasm, short story, writer, Writing, tagged minds eye on September 15, 2016| 13 Comments »
Top 7 Reasons the Mayan calendar ended in 2012
Because the author’s chisel broke.
Because the author accrued a lot of vacation.
Because someone got carpal tunnel syndrome.
Because an overachiever got really far ahead.
Because they ran out of flat rocks.
Because the dirty English came with their chicken pox.
The great Mayan calendar maker’s strike of the 5th century B.C.
Coming Out of the Closet
Posted in art, comedian, comic, entertainment, family, fantasy, Fiction, flash fiction, humor, life, love, photography, romance, sarcasm, short story, writer, Writing, tagged author, comedian, comedy, family. job, funny, humor, humour, job, laugh, life, writer, writing on September 12, 2016| 262 Comments »
Instead of writing, I’m writing a blog post about cleaning out the closet in my office.
First thing, the closet is filled with empty containers. No wonder I don’t have room for anything in here. I next encountered three alarm clocks still in boxes, funny since I’m always late.
Just found my Gramms’ old photo album perfect distraction. I can flip through these for a while. Ah, my eyes! There’s a picture of my Gramms in her industrial brassiere and a man’s tie around her neck drinking whiskey from the bottle. No, it wasn’t taken yesterday, she looks about twenty. I see what Gramps was attracted to, but I wonder who’s taking the pciture?
Four beanie babies I’ll set those aside for the kidlings.
Cloth grocery bags I never take to the grocery store. Perfect for storing the twenty plus empty containers.
Something in a box from IKEA called Rationell. Don’t know what it is. The only picture on the box is of a man throwing away trash. Those Swedes are so neat. Opened it. Put it together. Still don’t know what it is. I’m using it to hold notebooks on my desk.
Lots of trash, extra wrapping paper. Huge matted balls of cables for who knows what. Pictures that were never hung.
Oh dang it, Blind Dog made off with one of the beanie babies. Think it was a grey dog. Too late, Blind Dog’s chewed the nose off.
My apologies to Blockbuster. Apparently you didn’t lose that movie several years ago. My bad.
That’s about it. Wait somethings in the very back. Okay, no clue how this got back there. Tucked in the very back behind the vacuum and several large pictures is a lasso, a green lasso. I have absolutely no idea where that could have come from.
Check your closets. If you find a stray cowboy, send him round for his lasso.
When You Sleep With a Coworker
Posted in art, books, chick lit, comedian, comic, dating, entertainment, fantasy, Fiction, flash fiction, humor, life, literature, love, Personal, photography, romance, sarcasm, short story, writer, Writing, tagged work on September 8, 2016| 12 Comments »
Random scene that played out in my head while I was trying to sleep.
Pam’s heels clicked on the tile floor. We were headed to the Friday morning staff meeting. A couple of interns almost broke their necks trying to catch a glance at Pam’s rear. She was the kind of woman who attracted attention.
“Heads up,” I whispered, “Danny’s wife is going to call you.”
Danny had only been married for six months.
“Me, why?”
“She found out Danny and I slept together a couple of years ago.”
It had only been twice on a business trip to Rio. I had obviously lost my mind.
“And that involves me why?”
“I had to throw you under the bus to get her off the phone.” Danny’s wife had turned out to be the jealous type.
“Really?” Pam was still as cool as ever.
We entered the still empty conference room. It was way too bright without coffee, which I would have had by now if I wasn’t answering phone calls from Danny’s wife.
“I told her Danny slept with you, Marcie and Barb.”
“He slept with Barb?”
“Yeah.”
“When?”
“Between you and Marcie.”
“Was he trying to make me jealous?”
“Yeap,” I chuckled.
“Huh, I didn’t notice.”
“That made it more fun to watch.” I slid into my customary seat and waited for the others to join us.
“She called me a slut,” I said, tapping my pen.
Pam laughed, not just chuckled, an outright laugh.
I continued, “Do you think I’m a slut?”
“You haven’t slept with a man in two years. That and a few Hail Mary’s and you’re practically a nun.”
Other consultants began piling in the room. The rest of this conversation would have to wait.
I Have a Prostitutes Old Phone Number
Posted in art, comedian, comic, dating, entertainment, family, fantasy, Fiction, flash fiction, humor, life, love, photography, sarcasm, short story, Uncategorized, women, writer, Writing, tagged author, comedian, comedy, family. job, funny, humor, humour, job, laugh, writer, writing on September 5, 2016| 29 Comments »
I got a call the other night from a fan of the previous owner of my phone number, AKA a John. He was looking for Raxxxxl. Gentlemen, someone out there’s imitating men, giving you guys a bad name.
The conversation went something like this –
“Hello, what’s your hourly rate?”
“Excuse me?” (It was after all the middle of the night.)
“Are you still open?”
“This isn’t who you think it is. She changed her number a long time ago.”
“How much do you charge?”
“What? No, I didn’t take over the business, I got this number from <insert telephone company name here>.”
“Oh, okay. What are you wearing?”
“Really?”
“Are you busy?”
My imagined reply –
“Getting ready to ask some strange guy over who just called for late night sex. I’m at <insert address of older brother>. Ask for me, his baby sister.”
No wait. I’ll give him my address. This post could be rename to How to Meet a Serial Killer. Gotta run, I need to sharpen my axe before he gets here.
Blood Guardian – Random Scene
Posted in art, books, comedian, comic, entertainment, fantasy, Fantasy/Scifi, Fiction, flash fiction, humor, life, literature, love, Personal, photography, Random, sarcasm, short story, writer, Writing, tagged blood guardian on September 4, 2016| 7 Comments »
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.
The Pistol at a Funeral
Posted in art, children, comedian, comic, entertainment, family, fantasy, Fiction, flash fiction, humor, life, literature, love, nephew, Personal, photography, sarcasm, short story, the pistol, Uncategorized, writer, Writing, tagged author, comedian, comedy, family. job, funny, humor, humour, job, laugh, writer, writing on September 2, 2016| 14 Comments »
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
Where Are My Jeans?!!?
Posted in art, children, comedian, comic, entertainment, family, fantasy, Fiction, flash fiction, humor, life, literature, Personal, photography, sarcasm, short story, writer, Writing, tagged author, business, comedian, comedy, family, funny, humor, humour, life, work, writer on September 1, 2016| 24 Comments »
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.”
When Practical Jokes Turn … on Me
Posted in art, comedian, comic, family, fantasy, Fantasy/Scifi, Fiction, flash fiction, food, humor, life, love, My Writing Updates, Personal, photography, Random, sarcasm, short story, sister, Uncategorized, writer, Writing, tagged author, comedian, comedy, comic, family, funny, humor, job, laugh, life, work, writer, writing on August 30, 2016| 34 Comments »
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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