The VP of the group I report to decided that everyone in our family tree needed to do a Stretch Assignment. This has nothing to do with wearing yoga pants or watching videos of Richard Simmons, but rather an exercise designed to encourage people to try something outside their comfort zone.
A large number of us were voluntold that this would be a wonderful opportunity to learn new skills and remain gainfully employed. Over the years, Connie and I have grown quite fond of eating regularly and sleeping indoors. Therefore, I will do my best to become as pliable as a rubber band and get so far out of my comfort zone that even Rod Serling would be proud.
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, the mental aerobics instructor at our writing boot camp, is Jacqui LaLanne Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to participate in this weekly exercise in madness, head over to her blog for instructions. To rent a booth in the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
After his lawyers were done weaving lies and bribing the judge, all she got in the divorce settlement was a used tent, a cheap ice chest, a broken grill, and half a bag of charcoal briquettes.
“No ex-wife of mine is going to sleep out in the cold,” he bragged to reporters after offering to throw in a portable heater.
It was hard to believe she was once a beauty queen. But now, over forty and no longer considered a ten, he swept her aside like yesterday’s trash.
“Should’ve read the fine print, Mrs. Trump,” said her lawyer.
Horror, Psychological Thrillers, Flash Fiction, and Poetry
Stories From Within
Finding ways to make words sparkle
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.
Confessions of a Delusional Maniac
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.