Over the years, Connie and I have grown accustom to eating regular meals and sleeping indoors. Therefore, when Monday morning January 4th rolled around, I grabbed my lunch bucket and headed out the door whistling, “I owe, I owe, it’s off to work I go.”
It’s been almost a week now since I’ve had a Holiday meal, or stuffed my jowls with homemade cookies or candy. The signs of withdrawal, involuntary twitching and salivating like Pavlov’s dog when passing a donut shop, are still strong, but becoming less frequent.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the Dealer who offers a new photo each week in exchange for 100 word stories is the Pastry Queen herself, Strawberry Shortcake Wisoff-Fields. (be careful mentioning the “short” part). If you’re not afraid of addiction, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the poor souls incarcerated the FFF Hollywood Squares Cell Block, click here.
Pterodactyl Airlines may not pre-date the Wright Brothers, but the furnishings inside the plane were definitely from the Paleolithic era.
Our seats measured two hand-widths in breadth, or roughly the size of a five-gallon bucket. Once all the passengers had their butts firmly stuffed into buckets, the co-pilot rolled a large stone in front of the door and we taxied to the runway.
Upon being cleared for take-off, our captain revved-up all four squirrel-cage engines and released the hand brake. Even above the high-pitched screaming of the woman in bucket 8C, we could still hear the pilot yell “Yabba Dabba Do” when we achieved liftoff.
*an excerpt from the short story, Saving Hollywood