Today, I passed one of those Men at Work signs along the highway. According to Department of Labor, this phrase is intended to imply that somewhere within a quarter-mile radius one poor sap is working his tail off while five or six more lean on shovels and discuss the weather, sports, and that hot young waitress down at The Rowdy Beaver.
I’m thinking about ordering a Man at Work sign for around the house. That way, when Connie comes to check on the progress of a project she’s assigned me, she won’t have to ask what I’m doing when she finds me standing there stroking my chin whiskers. She’ll know I’m hard at work figuring out where to find some poor sap to do the job while I keep the shovel from falling over.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the Bosshoss of this road crew of shovel-leaners is Sammie “Spade” Wisoff-Fields. If you’d like to fill an empty pothole with one of your stories, visit her site and follow the step-by-step instructions. To view the jury box of writers in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
“Marge, did you hear that Mayor Peterson wants to build a fence around the cemetery?”
“Why would he want to do that? Those dead people aren’t rising up again, are they?”
“No, it’s to keep the illegally dead out. You know, those who died here without proper documentation and are demanding to receive the same benefits as those who died legally.”
“For one thing, they get free lawn care all summer and artificial flowers on Memorial Day.”
“Won’t they just climb over or tunnel under the fence?
“Of course they will. Mayor Peterson is dumb as a post.”
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Or the three people I guilted into reading this blog, whatever.
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