We have a new saying in our neighborhood. A day without rain is like . . . well, dry. We haven’t had a lot of those lately, but we haven’t grown webbed feet yet either.
Last week, Suzanne wrote about the monsoon season in India. According to my 7th grade Geography book that is supposed to be half-way around the world, not two miles down the road.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the Coxswain of our rowboat of writers is I.B. Reddy Wisoff-Fields. If you’d like to participate in this exercise of madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
Mac was famous for his voracious appetite.
Back in the old days, he’d devour entire villages and not put on a single pound. But once he reached middle-age, every chunky shopkeeper and donut-engorged policeman went straight to his waistline.
He auditioned for Jurassic World, hoping to land a meaty role he could really sink his teeth into.
“Sorry, Mac,” said the casting director. “You’re too wide for the screen.” Hollywood was looking for new, sleeker, futuristic-style monsters.
Frustrated, he started a new diet, limiting himself to one or two supermodels a week. Now, he can hide in Melissa McCarthy’s shadow.