I hurt my heel last weekend and have been limping around like a one-legged boss at a butt kickin’ contest. My co-workers have enjoyed mocking me by dragging one leg as they hobble down the hall toward the break room. When I accepted this position, I had no idea the amount of abuse a plant manager is expected to suffer just to keep the rest of the team happy and entertained.
If you happen to be in Northwest Arkansas this Saturday be sure and swing by the FREE (my favorite four-letter word) conference hosted and sponsored by the NWA Writer’ Workshop. Registration starts around 8am and the event gets underway at 9. Some great speakers are lined up to talk about editing, publishing, and promoting your work. Rumor has it that there will also be a special guest in attendance from the Kansas City area.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the gypsy minstrel in banging the tambourine is Madame CurlylocksWisoff-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.
Johnny ruled with an iron fist. He was a henpecked husband who couldn’t buy a candy bar without his wife’s approval. When he was promoted to foreman down at the plant he was elated. For the first time in his entire life he had authority. People would have to listen to him—or else.
“Johnny sure has a lot of flat tires,” said Bob, rolling a roofing tack between his finger and thumb.
“Yeah,” said Ryan, “Bad luck seems to follow Mr. High and Mighty.”
“Someday he’ll explode.” Bob smiled. “Like a pimple on the butt-cheek of life.”
Horror, Psychological Thrillers, Flash Fiction, and Poetry
Stories From Within
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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.
Growing older is inevitable. Growing up is optional.
Confessions of a Delusional Maniac
I may make you feel, but I can't make you think.
All the Blogging That's Fit To Print
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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Stylistically Abusing Language for the Betterment of Mankind
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An author's perspective of mystery and more.
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