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.
“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.”
Poetry, Horror, Psychological Thrillers
Stories From Within
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.
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.
A Humor Blog
Stylistically Abusing Language for the Betterment of Mankind
Straight up with a twist– Because life is too short to be subtle!
An author's perspective of mystery and more.
And the worst things. And all that weird stuff in between.