Tag Archives: 100 words

She’s a stunner

The neighbors were not happy about my choice of yard art. I didn’t have a real problem until they took it up with the Homeowners Association.

Simon sat down with me and explained (at length) the CC&Rs we’d signed. How the statuary was in clear and fineable violation.

“So you see, Mr. Jordan, you’ll really have to remove the art immediately or face monetary penalties.”

“Come on, Simon, isn’t there something else…”

“I’m afraid not,” Simon sniffed and snapped his briefcase closed.

“All right, let me walk you out. Honey, this is Simon—Simon, have you met my wife Medusa?”

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Inspired by this week’s  Mondays Finish the Story prompt:

© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

 

Hmm…not another Bernini?

We’d like to welcome you

Engine Company 31 responded to fire report early in the afternoon; a minor fire in a vacant lot with little danger of spreading.

The freak weather arrived suddenly. Rapidly darkening skies, rumbling and the whistle of high-speed winds heralded the arrival of a funnel cloud. Seconds before touchdown, a wooden building plummeted from the sky and slammed down with a colossal crash in the empty lot.

The firefighters stood staring at one another in disbelief.

The door flew open with a sharp kick from the inside. Small and colorfully dressed figures exited the home, singing.

“We represent the Lollipop Guild.”

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Inspired by this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt:

PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

And for folks who might miss the reference, a scene from the Wizard of Oz (MGM 1939):

Out of Business Sale

Johannes sighed and closed shop. Another day wasted on the folding chair at the airport, not making any sales at all.

It seemed such a natural, perfect idea for a business. This was Sin City, the modern Gomorrah—surely the perfect location, right? He just couldn’t understand why the product wasn’t selling here. The occasional impulse buyer, curiosity purchase, and souvenir hunters kept sales feebly limping along. While there wasn’t any overhead to speak of, he just couldn’t make enough money to eat.

Even the stolen illuminated Vatican stationery hadn’t helped. No more “Official Papal Indulgences For Sale—Fifty Dollars.”

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Inspired by this week’s Velvet Verbosity prompt: Indulge

 

Adynata

“Okay, I get that it’s a social club, exclusive clientele and all. Why is the entry way up there? I don’t understand.”

The base of the door was several feet over our heads. While we craned our necks looking up, I tried to explain.

“Consider it an entrance exam. All you need is Faith. Look, there goes Michael.” The archangel walked directly up to the door, opened it and stepped inside.

“It’s pretty amazing.”

“Oh, that’s the easiest bit. Here comes the real miracle.”

Michael’s haloed pig winged its way through the door.

“Yep, today is the day they fly.”

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In response to this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt:

PHOTO PROMPT © Lauren Moscato

Three Wishes, Please?

Finally, my luck was changing!

When I rubbed it, the antique lantern produced volumes of smoke. The smoke had eventually coalesced into this gigantic barrel-chested individual in loose silks, brass wristbands, and large hoop earrings.

He spoke at length in a booming voice. My initial elation turned to ash when I realized he was speaking some language I did not understand. It sounded vaguely Middle Eastern.

“I didn’t understand a word of that, big guy. Do you speak any English?”

He peered at me quizzically, and touched fingers to his ears.

Nope, my luck hadn’t changed. The genie was deaf.

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Inspired by this week’s Picture It & Write prompt:

Original image by Alberto Seveso.

Gazebo

How much do you know about sousaphones?

“Not much,” is the usual answer from an average person on the street. The dorky kids in your school band played sousaphones or tubas.

Did you come to hear our band playing tonight?

I’ve got the dork-plus instrument, the sousaphone with the fiberglass bell. Cheaper and lighter, the entry-level version of the instrument. It doesn’t even sound identical, whatever the manufacturer claims.

The spoiled brat next to me is the conductor’s kid. He’s playing real brass. I hate him for it.

Did you know that brass conducts electricity very, very well?

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Inspired by this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt:

PHOTO PROMPT ©David Stewart

We all fall down

My husband Samuel was a Downs. In Louisiana, you just couldn’t make a finer “catch,” as my mother put it. The Downs family owned plantations, Uncle Solomon was a U.S. Senator, and the power and prestige of their slaves and properties offered vast advantages for a new blushing bride.

For me, Samuel built this manor home and farm. He often said our children would forever be wealthy, famous and a political powerhouse in the New Orleans area.

That was before the war, however, 150 years ago. Today it all belongs to the swamp, and no one remembers except the spirits.

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Inspired by this weeks Friday Fictioneers prompt:

PHOTO PROMPT – © Copyright – Rachel Bjerke

Water and Sky

I’m floating on my back in a lake, there are storm clouds moving in, and I don’t have even the faintest idea how I got here. The last thing I remember is driving on I-80 just west of Rawlins. I was listening to the latest from Jason Aldean… The rest is just a blank.

Wading up to the closest shore, I see it’s a featureless expanse of mud without either tire tracks or footprints.

I didn’t notice the ambient sounds from the wildlife, not until they suddenly stopped.

A saucer shape is slowly rising over the treetops.

Now I remember.

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In response to this week’s Picture It & Write prompt:

Flickr / davideji

Tux and Tail

I rock this tie.

Pleated linen shirt with visible white buttons. Black shawl satin-collared tuxedo dinner jacket, slim pointed batswing bow tie. And of course, the required cigarette (which I kept unlit). Retro look, with pieces from my dad’s closet. They just don’t make tuxedos like this any more.

I looked good. But my date looked better.

White bikini, sixties cut. Pretty tame by modern standards (in terms of coverage, at least). The wide belt and sheathed combat knife was unusual and iconic.

“Ready, Miss Ryder?”

“Ready, James.”

I offered an arm and we swept into the costume party.

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Inspired by this week’s Picture It & Write prompt:

Marker

I selected the grave site with great care. Well into the woods, secluded, clearly marked with the stump of a missing tree. Even the last hoar of a fading winter seemed an appropriate punctuation, at least to my eyes.

When the digging was complete, I pawed through the contents of my backpack and extracted the hand-carved wooden box that contained his heart. That last bit of the bastard.

Through the silence drifted the hoot of an owl. Metaphorical perfection. I placed the urn and began heaping the soil over it. Say goodbye to the thieving, greedy, logging company lawyer.

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Inspired by this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt:

PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook