Russell Gayer, author speaker
I’ve always wanted to use the name Madge in a story. Thanks to Rochelle, and her intriguing photo, I finally get my chance. Some of you may remember Madge as the beautician who soaked her client’s fingers in Palmolive dishwashing detergent to make them soft as a baby’s ear (or was it a lower region?).
No palms or olives were injured in the fabrication of this week’s installment of Friday Flash Fiction.
To read more stories, visit Rochelle Wisoff-Fields blog, http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/ and click on the little blue InLinz critter to find links to other author’s offerings
(phone rings)
“Good morning, Irma, this is Flossie. Do you know what’s going on with Madge?”
“No. Is she all right?”
“Well, something’s going on. She’s too busy to talk on the phone, so I went over there. She kept watching the clock and practically shoved me out the door at 3 o’clock. Minutes later, a gray-haired man arrived and stayed for two hours.”
“That must be Paul. What else did you see?”
“Not much, her windows fogged over. He looks twice her age.”
“Well, Madge told me, ‘Just because there’s frost on the roof doesn’t mean the fire’s gone out.’”
BONUS ROUND BLUE-LIGHT SPECIAL
READ FLASH FICTION STORY AND GET ONE POEM FREE – THIS WEEK ONLY!
I’ve never met a woman
who’s more like the weather.
Her disposition can change
like the swish of a feather
Forget that the forecast
calls for 90 and sunny,
better put on your coat
The Ice Woman cometh
Like an icy arctic front
sweeping down from the North,
the temperature drops
when she walks through the door.
Suddenly you remember
what you like about summer,
better put on your coat
The Ice Woman cometh
Don’t try to console her,
you’ll never be a hero.
The stare “chill factor”
is twenty below zero.
With a silence so deafening
it sounds like thunder,
better put on your coat
The Ice Woman cometh
Like any winter storm,
we know it won’t last.
We fear its approaching,
we rejoice when it’s passed.
The movement of time
slows to a crawl
while we patiently wait
for the Ice Woman to thaw
Poetry, Horror, Psychological Thrillers
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This is the blog of a woman who is seriously on the edge and I mean right ON the edge…no, not there… just a little bit further… further than that…no, further still…just a tiny bit more… just move slightly to the right a little…no, that’s too much…just move a tad to the left…that’s right, just there…now you’ve moved too far to the left… Damn, what part of the ‘on the edge’ do you not understand? Oh, and her matricidal boy genius, come devil spawn.
Or the three people I guilted into reading this blog, whatever.
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I don’t know which is funnier, Russell, the story or the poem. Good for Madge. I agree 100% being married to Frosty the Fireball myself. 😉
I think you have a typo though…”She’s too busy time to talk…?”
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You’re right. Thanks for catching that. It’s fixed now.
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Love your last line in the story!!
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Oh that Madge! Took me back to the days of party lines and the neighbors knowing each others business. 🙂
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A fun story and clever poems. Madge…perfect name. Reminds me of the gossipy, tongue-lashers in my bldg.
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Hi Russell,
First of all, I strongly suspect the Ice Woman is frigid. But apparently Madge is a hottie. Ron
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really liked them both!
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I love them both so much…well done as always.
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Madge is a wise woman. I enjoyed both your story and your poem. I’m going to guess you write from experience. 🙂
Mine is here: http://erinleary.wordpress.com/2012/11/08/flash-friday-fiction-15/
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Very nice story and I love the poem 🙂
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I remember Madge! Great twofer this week. I’m having a strange urge to see The Iceman Cometh. Or The Mosquito Coast. Funny the turns the mind will take.
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Great bogof offer this week Russell. Nice work.
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Dear Russell,
An anthem for grey haired men everywhere. Loved it, as usual. And thank you for the bonus. I live in the storm zone of the Ice Woman.
Aloha,
Doug
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Much wisdom in that first story, Russell. And, you’re a poet and I didn’t even know it. Very clever and very funny. (Do you ever get bored hearing me say that?)
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Hahahahaha!!! Rochelle “warned” me about you — and she was RIGHT! Madge is a sexpot! Seriously, good stuff!
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Really like the poem, having had some experience along those lines. As for the two hour visit of the old guy in the story, I’m sure that’s how you mean to tell us that this is strictly a work of fiction, in no way fact based. That’s correct, right? Right? Please say right.
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No, I think two hours is about right. My dad asked an old man about sex one time, and the guy said, “I can shoot my gun as well as ever – it just takes longer to load it.”
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Very cute. Great poem too.
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I loved the story and the poem. I’m glad you pulled some fun from Rochelle’s photo as so many of this week’s stories have had a dark edge. 🙂
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Loved your poem and got a good chuckle from the story, Russell. Madge is the name of the healer in my novel… I’d forgotten about the Palmolive woman and now I’ll never think of my healer Madge the same way! Haha.
I saw over at Rochelle’s site that you have a birthday coming up too – Happy Birthday!
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