Good and Not Good

Prompts = Who, Good, Boy

Photo by Parker Gibbons on Unsplash

“Hey Steve.”

“Hey Mike. You good?”

“All good. You?”

“Good.

“Good.”

“Hey, how’s your girl?”

“Who?”

“Who? Sally, remember? She good?”

“Nah. No good. Called me a good-for-nothing a while back, so I broke up with her.”

“A while back? Were you dropped on your head as a kid? You guys were together yesterday!”

“Uh… yeah. I haven’t told her yet.”

“Boy oh boy! She’s talking marriage and you’ve unilaterally ended things? That’s messed up.”

“Maybe I can break it off by text.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Or you can do it.”

“No good. By text it is.”

Midnight Madness?

Prompts = Midnight, Appeal, Bridge

Photo by Henry & Co. on Unsplash

What’s the appeal of staying up late? Where lies the attraction in watching the sun set and then rise hours later? Does the darkness somehow feed the soul? Is it exciting?

Are they vampires?

I am an early bird. My day begins with dawn and ends at dusk. Never am I awake at midnight or my phone ring because friends want to know when I’ll make an appearance at a hot new club.

I’d far rather make an appearance at a retirement home where senior citizens teach bridge. At 9am.

The sun is setting and my head is drooping. Goodnight.

Home Birth

Prompts = Fetal, Companion, Fraternal

Photo by Christian Bowen on Unsplash

He didn’t know it was called a fetal heart monitor so he called it the “beep beep machine”. The nurse said that it beeped each time his soon-to-be-born little brother’s heart beat.

His parents had sat him down one day and told him about a new baby brother coming into the house. And something about a companion for life. He didn’t understand that part; his parents liked big words. But he did understand “home birth”.

Today was the day.

So he waited and listened. Much later, he heard something about “fraternal twins”. He’d have to ask later.

Teenage Eating Machine

Prompts = Family, Predication, Famished

Photo by Ernest Brillo on Unsplash

Tommy, my erstwhile teenage eating machine, had repeated growth spurts, apparently fuelled by continual raids on the kitchen. I sat him down to explain how it was inappropriate to eat at all hours.

“But I’m famished!”, he declared in his defence.

“That’s as may be, but we as a family require daily sustenance and meal planning is predicated upon the reasonable assumption that the necessary ingredients are available when required.”

“Yeah? But I’m hungry!”

Sadly, that was the most productive part of the conversation.

A solution was reached, however, when a separate pantry was created for his use.

Problem solved.

The King and the Duck

Prompts = Wall, Quack, Obliterate

Photo by Ross Sokolovski on Unsplash

I play to win. And by “win”, I mean obliterate anything in my way. Winners are the only ones worth anything. At age sixteen, I’m king of the neighbourhood and my high school. There’s nothing I can’t do.

However, I’m not currently there; my family packed me off to my country cousins for some fresh air. I think they meant for themselves, not me.

Anyway, my cousins are watching as I run down a certain duck that will be dinner tomorrow. I’ve got it trapped against a wall; that waddling quack box will be got good soon.

Ah! They bite!

Crazy Cozy Lady

Prompts = Ketchup, Crochet, Went

Photo by delfi de la Rua on Unsplash

I suppose I’d call myself a bit eccentric and a crazy cat lady, but never pure crazy. My ungrateful children think my mind went long ago.

They point to my thirteen felines and shake their heads. I have the time and resources to care for them all.

But mostly they disapprove of other things, like my crocheted cozies for glass-bottled goods; I dropped a bottle of ketchup years ago, cut myself on the glass, sauce and blood everywhere. Won’t happen again, I tell you.

My mind’s solid and I’ll be on this Earth for a good long time.

A Theft Of Blue

Prompts = Cop, Dramatic, Cheese

Photo by Jez Timms on Unsplash

“Barnabas! Gather the staff! There’s been a theft!”

“Yes, madam?”

“A theft, Barnabas! Here!”

“The refrigerator, madam?”

“Yes, Barnabas! A wedge of Roquefort has mysteriously disappeared! There is a thief among us!”

“May I suggest that you are tending towards the dramatic regarding this supposed theft?”

“Dramatic? Me? Barnabas, I am being reasonable in not consulting the constabulary!”

“Madam, please remember the last time the police were called. They weren’t amused. I… hello, young Malcolm. May I help you?”

“Nah, I’m good. Just here for another wedge of blue cheese. Hey ma. Calling the cops again?”

“Barnabas? Never mind.”

The Unnecessary Consultant

Prompts = Ramp, Coriander, Frontal

Photo by Hybrid on Unsplash

“Thanks everyone for making time for this meeting. This is Edgar. I owed him a favour, so here he is.”

“Hello everyone! I’m here to ramp up production at Brian’s Balloonery and…”

“It’s Brad. Brad’s Balloonery.”

“But your name’s Brian.”

“Brian was the prior owner.”

“Well that’s a problem right there! I think we should break up into brainstorming teams to solve this. Ok — you four — form a group. First thing, pick a team colour.”

“Edgar?”

“Red indicates anger, Mauve is squishy. Go with Coriander. Mysterious. Smells good.”

“Edgar?”

“And your team name. Go with Full Frontal.”

“Edgar! Get out!”

The Sims On Folgers

Prompts = Pathetic, Virtual, Coffee

“I’m big into the Sims. You know the Sims, right? That game where you play God with the lives of all these virtual characters. With different mods, you can set up different situations. I’ve got them all.

“So they came out with this new one: Coffee Time. I didn’t want to wait for the reviews to come out, so I bought it, loaded it, and looked forward to the antics while everyone was crocked on caffeine.

“But it was pathetic! It must have been sponsored by Folgers; that’s all anyone drank, even in coffee shops!

“I returned it next day.”

Age-Based Culture Clash

Prompts = Age, Reason, Tell

Fi wasn’t sure what to expect: this was the first social gathering with her new husband’s family. Her being Thai and him Canadian, she knew socializing had to be different than within her family. She’d studied some reality television to try to prepare, but maybe things wouldn’t be like The Real Housewives?

One of the first things she’d need to do is find out everyone’s age and tell hers to younger family members; age-based respect being vital, at least in Buddhist households. Her husband told her not to but she reasoned he didn’t understand the ways of women.

Disguise, Gigantic, Mauve

Detective Robert Smith was a no-nonsense, by-the-book detective. His impeccable yet conservative fashion sense was the envy of his boss. Which may be why he was put on a select team.

A drug ring, operating within a travelling circus, needed to be infiltrated. Smith went undercover. As a clown.

His white-painted happy face, gigantic fuzzy orange wig, multi-coloured jumpsuit, and gigantic mauve shoes (not red) were the talk of the office. He even made balloon animals.

After the operation ended, Smith needed a bit of colour in his outfit daily. And he smiled more.

Scale, Destitute, Process

Cheryl sat at her speed dating table, notebook in hand, watching as her first five-minute “date” sat down. As she finished greeting him, he said, “Give me the quick and dirty. What do you do for a living?”

And immediately she felt stupid. How could she not have seen this question coming? She stumbled through an explanation of working for the Federal Reserve Bank, of designing processes to evaluate the scale of wealth, from Bill Gates down to the most destitute, stratifying those results, and reporting to various agencies.

“Cool. Time’s up. Gotta go.”

The next “date” sat down.

Logic, Repeat, Serum

It’s claimed that Einstein once claimed that “the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results”. This implies that being insane is an undesired thing. But if you fail to achieve results repeatedly when sane, perhaps the opposite is needed.

Who knew that logic would set me on this path, much as it did to my grandsire, Dr. Jekyll?

The IV in my arm will deliver a serum that, if successful, will open my mind. The fortress of Rationality will collapse, allowing the winds of Irrationality to blow free.

I’m ready. Commence.

Friday, Thirteenth, (un)Lucky

It’s said “three strikes and you’re out”. It’s a baseball reference. Baseball references don’t carry water (another sports reference, possibly baseball) at the Golden Diamond Bowling Alley in Fredricktonville.

At that local palace for all things bowling, Ricky MacIntosh stood with his ball, Bertha, cradled in his arm, a soft cloth polishing her gently. And on this lucky Friday night, he was twelve strikes into a perfect game. If he could pick up the thirteenth, that’d be something.

Or he might strike out.

But he won’t, ‘cause striking out is a baseball reference, and they don’t carry water here.

Inception, Relax, Box

“Box that up? And do you deliver?”

Bruce walked out of the shop, wallet significantly lighter (or at least it would’ve been had he paid cash), wondering who had been the first person to decide that kindergarten graduation needed to be a gigantic celebration.

Today’s lunch break had required his selecting and paying for a multi-layer cake. Pink frosting. Because of course. He still had outstanding calls to the party planner and the caterers.

His cell phone rang. The florist could wait. Perhaps he could relax over his remaining break and prevent the inception of a migraine. 

Quandary, Astronaut, Shoe

Xander Richards stood behind his gleaming teak desk, staring out at a view that never gets old. Xander, richest man in the world, philanthropist extraordinaire, former test pilot and astronaut, and current World Chess Champion, could sense the anxiety of the two men in ill-fitting suits and cheap shoes standing, almost at attention, on the other side of the desk.

“Xander? Sir? About that quandary…?”

Xander didn’t move. “More of a dilemma, don’t you think?”

A panicked response: “Yes sir!”

Xander turned his devastating stare on them. “I’ll solve your problem for twice my normal fee.”

“We’re grateful sir!”

Paint, Rock, Flourish

During an initial tour of my alma mater, the guide pointed out an unassuming rock, no bigger than a canned ham, half buried, painted blue with a smeared something in white. Greek Societies would tag that small stone under cover of darkness; the unintelligible white mark was the name of the most recent fraternity vandals.

I imagined a few soused idiots crouching round their target, armed with paint and brushes; the job was too neat for simply pouring on paint. After these Rembrandts worked in blue, the leader did the white detail, finishing with a flourish.

It was all underwhelming.

Flatter, Digress, Imagine

As I walked onto the stage of the amphitheatre, thousands of employees who are as dear to me as family sat waiting.

“Hello everyone. I imagine you’d like to know the reason for this emergency meeting…”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Bob! These meetings are never interesting!”

Heckling before I get through my first sentence. Apparently my “family” smells blood. Or bad news. Better not digress and just get to it.

“It’s my duty to report that due to current conditions, the business needs to shutter.”

Expecting outrage, I hear the same heckler:

“Good riddance, Bob! Ah, just kidding! We love ya!” 

Needless, Perception, Coincidence

“I don’t get this news article: ‘Needles Reactions at City Hall’. How could there be needles reacting to anything going on at City Hall?”

“Dad?”

“But maybe it’s no coincidence that later on the docket was a discussion for a new medical clinic. I bet they’ll treat druggies and addicts there and that’s what happened…”

“Dad??”

“… because we all know the perception the public has to that sort of thing in that part of town. You know what’ll happen, don’t you? It’ll be a methadone dispensary and…”

“Dad!!! It says ‘Needless’, not ‘Needles’!”

“Does it? Oh… Never mind…”

Needless, Posture, Pork

King Reginald surveyed his lands from the top of the tower that served as his castle. Not that he could see much; the tower was located at the bottom of a deep canyon. Basically, his lands consisted of a spring, the path it had carved over the course of thousands of years, and mines dug over hundreds of years.

Fortune had smiled on Reginald: a deposit of rubies had been found. Needless to say, he bought weapons and assumed a warlike posture against a neighbouring kingdom that was perfect for raising pigs; bacon, pork, and ham would soon be his.

Visa, Bribe, Karma

To whom does Karma pay a not-so-friendly visit when a bribe is paid? The one who asks? The one who pays? Both?

I’d argue that the one who asks, especially when it’s paid to enable an ordinary legal action, is the one who will ultimately pay the price.

Surprisingly, when I first offered to cover the “additional fee” by pulling out my Visa card, the official made a face that was less greed and more alarm. Same when I pulled out my wallet with a wad of bills.

A stuffed nondescript white envelope was the appropriate answer.

Cold, Sing, Occupy

It was supposed to be an overnight ferry ride across the North Sea. A rogue wave made the trip a tad longer and a whole lot wetter.

Crowded lifeboats, lit with softly glowing LEDs, became the only land for miles around. I helped keep mine close to the others; it helped ward off the cold and kept me occupied while waiting for rescue.

Just my luck, there was an Eternal Optimist in my boat. She insisted on singing Broadway show tunes. For hours. I still can’t see a musical without seeing her face, rousing us to another round of “Memory”.

Cat, Thing, Blob

“Hello again guys, this is Nimsky the Cat Burglar coming to you on Facebook Live from a random rooftop. Tonight we’ll be doing what I do best: Breaking, Entering, and of course, Burglaring.

“If I happen to break into a faithful viewer’s place, I’ve brought a selection of items from previous jobs. For instance, this bit of orange blob is actually amber with an ancient mosquito in it. Cool, eh?

“Keep an eye on all the camera feeds, especially the one pointing behind me. Maybe you’ll see someone before I do!

“Make sure to Like, Subscribe, and Comment!”

Spider, Potion, Rare

Madame Margot ran through her mental checklist, ticked all the boxes, and decided she was ready. Right after another glass of sherry…

The convoluted path that had brought her to the basement of Oligarch Pierce’s manor was about to reach its terminus. The Lady Pierce, a semi-willing accomplice, had stolen Ye Olde Tome Of Raire And Exotic Poshuns from the library. The recipe for Spirit Embodiment was almost complete; all that was needed was a Black Widow spider and The Angry Spirit plaguing Margot would finally be happy…

“Lady? This isn’t a Black Widow!”

The spirit growled in frustration…

Pause, Delightful, Egg

It’s said that the shower is not only a place to get clean but also a place where ideas mysteriously grow then pop, like lather. The running water has some effect on those Idea Eggs, warming them, incubating them, hatching them.

Every morning, characters I’ve been getting to know for a year swim in and out of my mind’s eye, sometimes giving me pause as a twist or turn in their storyline plays out. The shower can get crowded some mornings.

It’s a delightful way to let characters play and explore the where’s and why’s of what they do.

Choose, Malign, Wish

BlueTip, a talking fox from the magical land of Milwaukee, held a lamp in his left hand; the right was poised, ready to rub and call the genie to ask for his third and last wish.

But what to choose?

He’d asked for Fame; through a series of improbable coincidences, he’d become known as The Wise BlueTip.

He’d asked for Fortune; kingdoms began bidding for his time and attention. Numerous treasure rooms were full.

How about Immortality? Yeah!

Rub, poof, yes?, request, granted.

He felt no different, until the teeth bit his neck, sucking.

His name was maligned forever.