Last night, I participated in the Toastmasters Area F humor speech contest and finished seventh in a field of six contestants. While I performed well below my usual level of mediocrity, I did learn the value of marathon sleeping from one of the other speakers.
Did you know that extended periods of sleep can actually make you younger? It’s true. This explains why people often mention that I have the mind of a five-year-old. My brain is so fully restored that Connie sometimes scolds me for “acting like a baby.” Based on this new information, I’m considering taking up Competitive Sleeping.
Now, if I could just get my body to feel younger.
If you are new to Friday Flash Fiction, the master of 100-word sleep deprivation is Dr. Drowsy I. Wisoff-Fields. To learn how to join the Professional Nappers Assoc. amble over to her blog for a pillow and blanket. To rent a box in the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
Genre – historical fiction (well, sort of . . .)
U.S. spies went through six months of rigorous training where they learned to use high-tech gadgets including tiny cocktail umbrellas with built-in microphones.
Many of the Kremlin conversations are still classified. Here’s one they did allow me to share.
“Tis good vodka, eh comrade?”
“Da. Hey Olga, more vodka for me and Niki.”
“How bout da legs on that Olga?”
“Da. She sleek as Cuban cigar.”
By decrypting a few key words of this exchange between Khrushchev and a top general, we can leap to the conclusion that Olga was the code name for one of the missiles bound for Cuba.
*today’s offering is an excerpt from “Running of the Chickens” one of the short stories featured in my upcoming tome, One Idiot Short of a Village. In the full version of this story, you will learn the important role secret herbs & spices played in resolving the Cuban missile crisis.
Poetry, Horror, Psychological Thrillers
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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.
Or the three people I guilted into reading this blog, whatever.
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