Instantaneous Verdict

Clotho dove under the awning, escaping the sheets of horizontal rain pelting the fairground. He panted and shook drops from his over-sized boat shoes. This was not a gentle, whispering rain. It thundered down so viciously that every raindrop shattered through the canvas into mist. Lightning slashed down against the coaster and an ear-splitting roar echoed through the darkness. This savage wasn’t taking prisoners.

Rubbing his hands against his sodden and drooping puffed sleeves, Clotho yearned only for warmth and comfort. That’s all he’d ever really wanted. The lost days wasted sleeping off hangovers, all of the boisterous, bright circus evenings and intoxicated, empty nights. He never sought fame or fortune, just a little simple kindness.

“Is that too much to ask, damn you?” Clotho the Clown shook his white-gloved fist at the uncaring clouds.

Wiping away his tears, he wobbled unsteadily through the rain toward his tent. The rapacious storm pounced eagerly with an actinic flash.

157 words. Inspired by this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers prompt:

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Spring-ball thang

Okay, for today’s embarrassing moment, I have a silly bit of general clumsiness (and tragic loss) to share.

This silly little thing:

Which appears to be officially titled a “mixing ball” comes with smoothie jugs, drinking bottles, etc.—to help stir up whatever you’re shaking in the container. Probably only marginally  useful, I suppose.

But anyway, it’s made of springy stainless steel. And belongs to Annie. I was washing dishes, and tossed it rather carelessly into the drying rack.

Sproing. It took (of course) the worst possible bounce, right over the end of the counter and back behind the fridge.

When a couple of big guys with a dolly pull the fridge out in some-odd years, I’m sure they’ll scratch their heads and wonder what this dusty, rusty thing is doing back there.

And I run a husband-point deficit for the day, whatever few points I may have squeaked out of doing the dishes is more than lost. Can’t cost more than a buck or two, but lord ::eyeroll:: what fools these mortals be. One of them, anyway.

And that’s the inaugural issue of Derp of the Day! Fascinating, right? See you next time I feel stupid enough to share!

Additional embarrassment <–I always wanna spell that with only one “r”.