Jilted Lover

I think of the Thanksgiving holiday as boot camp. Just a few days of intensive training to get you ready for the real thing. Over the next four weeks my stomach muscles will be sorely tested. There will be parties to attend, company dinners at work, potlucks, and trays of sweets shoved down my throat like a steam engine gobbling coal. Without proper training even the strongest are doomed to failure.

The hardest part of it is the mental aspect. Modern society—that two faced hussy who tells us to exercise and take care of our health, and then in the next breath spews an endless onslaught of ad for rich food, dark beer, and erectile dysfunction. Why don’t they ever show fat people in those bathtubs? It irks me. We need a bath now and then too.

If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the little elf who unwraps a new photo prompt for us each week is Ginger Ali 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.

copyright - Janet Webb
copyright – Janet Webb

“Heidi, you look so down. What’s the matter?”

“Men. They’ll steal your heart, then disappear.”

“When did it happen?”

“Two days ago. It came a heavy snow. Kids were playing in the yard. I looked up and there he was.”

“And you fell in love?”

“I couldn’t help it. The way he looked at me with those big dark eyes, his crooked smile, and wearing that silly hat.”

“And he just disappeared?”

“I guess you could say that. He faded away, right before my eyes, like an apparition.”

“What was his name?”


“Don’t worry, dear. He’ll be back someday.”


48 thoughts on “Jilted Lover

  1. Russell, Russell, Russell, once again you supply something sweet for dessert to have with my after my lunch coffee. This is a sure goer for Perils of Heavy Thinking Volume 2 😀


  2. Dear Frosty,

    Take care with that table muscle. You wouldn’t want to strain something.

    Sounds like the cad melted her heart. Snow matter, there are more where he came from. I do hear that the was well built though, although somewhat flaky.


    Ginger Ali


    1. Dear Ginger Ali,
      The table muscles are in good shape. I’ve got them on a heavy workout regime three times a day. By January 8th (Elvis’ birthday) I should be exceedingly round and pasty white.
      Yours truly, Frosty.


  3. Russell, No need to worry about Frosty. He’s been melting and coming back for years and years now. He, Santa, and Jack Frost just keep coming back every winter without fail. Hilarious yet again. 😀 Check around. With all the groups in the U.S. there’s got to be one campaigning for more chubbie people to be shown in TV tubs. You’re right, it isn’t fair. Well written. 🙂 — Susan


  4. Dear Russell,

    You are a jolly old soul and seem to be built for the holidays. Don’t argue, either; this story proves my point. Well done pump primer for the stories of the weeks to come.

    Aloha and close the reefer door,



  5. Dear Russell,
    What a cold-hearted scamp! You’d think someone named “Frosty” wouldn’t be able to melt a single thing, much less the heart of an unsuspecting single mother. Thanks for the giggle.

    All my best,
    Marie Gail


    1. I prefer to think you got so wrapped up in the story that you didn’t see the end coming. The smile is what I was going for. Now, if you’d just sing a few bars of Frosty the Snowman . . .


  6. Dear Russell, Such a sad tale You would think that Frosty would have trouble finding dates with that name. And – what is it with all the cold in his house? He always has the shades pulled. She’s better off without him. Tell her to stay away from Flash too. Nan 🙂


  7. I know that Frosty. He’s a real cad. He’s done his disappearing act in thousands of homes. Wins the kids over first, then – Whop! the mothers are all over him. It’s a scandal. Love the story.


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