If you’ve read any of my previous bursts of brilliance (or BS, if you prefer), you’re familiar with my penchant for weaving warped memories of old TV shows, cartoons, and even (gasp) dramas into my weekly diatribe known as Friday Flash Fiction. Well, once again I’m staying true to form.
Our unpaid sponsor, and the hostess with the mostest, is the lovely and talented, Rowena Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to participate, in this weekly exercise in madness, visit her blog, http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/ after which, scroll down to the blue In links critter and follow the links other author’s blogs.
*To those of you kind enough to post a comment, I will be late in the weekend (translated in Russellese—Monday) responding. I am booked in a Lean Manufacturing training program (No, this is not some type of diet) for two days this week and three and a half next. Please pray for me!
This week’s photo prompt is courtesy of Renee Homan-Heath.
“Martha, I can’t believe you booked our vacation in the Bahamas.”
“Yes, beautiful isn’t it? A snow-white beach, blue skies, palms waving in the breeze. What a romantic way to spend our twenty-fifth anniversary.”
“It’s horrible! The sand burns my feet, the water is eighty-two degrees, and the waitress is late with my drink. I thought we’d agreed on an Alaskan Cruise?”
“Look on the bright side, Tennessee—no polar bears. Just loosen up and have a good time.”
“Believe me, I’d take this tuxedo off if I could. How would I look in a Speedo?”
“Not a pretty image.”
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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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