Here’s an enigma for you. How do words such as Common and Sense get paired? The implication is that your sense is at best average, or ordinary. What if you had Uncommon Sense, Inn Sense, or even Franken Sense? You might be better off having no Sense at all? In other words, Senseless.
What other word combinations can you think of? Since I have poor word recognition (hard of hearing), my Listening Ear Wife often translates inaudible sentences to me by screaming at the top of her lungs (as opposed to from the soles of her feet). I bet you can think of plenty more.
If this is your first visit to Friday Flash Fiction, the meter maid who writes speeding tickets to those exceeding the 100 word limit is Lovely Rita Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to participate in this weekly exercise in madness, head over to her blog for instructions. To rent a box in the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block, click here.
copyright – Liz Young
Detective Lowry took a drag off his cigarette and studied the scene. Since solving the invisible box caper his phone had rang non-stop. He’d investigated decapitations before, but none this gruesome.
The how and why were obvious. But who?
The Heineken bottle, cigarette box, and mattress batting were obvious plants. The list of possible suspects ranged from O.J. Simpson, to Jamie Farr, to Rin Tin Tin.
Lowry turned to his assistant, Dr. Blockson. “What’d ya think, Cyrano?”
“I’d say the perp was an amateur. He’ll trip himself soon enough. After all, how many people out there are wearing Michael Jackson’s nose?”
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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.
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