I was walking on a 4-wheeler trail in the woods the other day when, for no apparent reason, I pulled a muscle in the calf of my right leg. There were no rocks in the path, the terrain was flat, even, and clear of obstacles. The only reason I can think of is my body wanted to remind me what excruciating pain felt like. In the words of President Geo. Dubya Bush, “Mission accomplished!”
In hindsight, perhaps it was to remind me that I have two good legs and all of my other parts are in reasonably good working condition considering their age. Many people are not so blessed and I should not take my good health for granted—message received.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the guardian angel of the Fictioneers is Aunt Matilda Wisoff-Fields. If you’d like to participate in this exercise in madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
“Hey Dad, someone’s at the door.”
“I wish those Watch Tower people would find another castle to call on.”
“No, it’s the men in suits who were here last month.”
“Good morning Mister . . . I mean, Count . . . .”
“Never mind the formalities,” snarled the Count. “Vat do you vant?”
“Just a follow-up visit regarding handicap accessibility to the don-jon. At OSHA, we take these things seriously.”
“Very well. See for yourself.”
“And the torture chambers—have they been modified?”
“Yes, yes, the roller, cutters, rack, and kneading machine—all up to specification. No lumpy, half-baked employee can accuse Count Monte Crisco de Pillsbury of not making reasonable accommodations.”
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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 may make you feel, but I can't make you think.
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AS I TOLD THE GIRL THAT I LOST MY VIRGINITY TO, THANKS FOR LAUGHING AT ME HERE TODAY.
I don't write, I touch without touching.
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