In honor of St. Paddy’s Day, it only seems fitting to pay tribute to the great Irish philosopher and noted lawmaker, Murphy. Now, I don’t know anything about his history, family life, or how many pints of Guinness he could drink before he had to relieve himself, but I am familiar with his laws.
One that I seem intent on proving and reproving multiple times daily is the famous, “Whichever lane I move to will immediately slow down, and the one I left will immediately speed up.” This law applies not only to traffic, but supermarkets, department stores, and public restrooms—any place where lines are formed. A nice addendum would be, “If you’re in a hurry, don’t follow Russell.”
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the Chief Justice who presides over the court of Fictioneers is the honorable Peppermint Patty 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 avatars of all the kangaroos in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Court click here.
March 17, 1886
After not seeing another human for six months, a mountain man stopped by today and invited me to a party at his cabin.
He warned me there would be plenty of whiskey and heavy drinking. I assured him that as an old sailor, I’d emptied many tankards of rum.
Then he mentioned there would likely be some fighting. Whereupon, I shared stories of past brawls and melees.
Upon leaving, he informed me his parties often concluded with people having sex. I fought to conceal my excitement.
“What should I wear?” I asked.
“Nothing fancy,” he replied. “It’ll just be the two of us.”
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