I’ve always believed in bad Karma, but didn’t know it could happen in a dream. Last night, I dreamed I was hanging out with a group of people. One of them pulled out her cellphone, and naturally everyone else reached for theirs too. It was like the gunfight at the O.K. Corral with cameras snapping, tweets exploding, and Facebook posts with the latest road-kill recipe.
I began to make fun of how big their phones were and how they needed elephant-size pockets to carry them. Then I drew my ancient iPhone 5S to exhibit its superior compact design and promptly dropped it on the ground. It shattered. I don’t mean a slight crack with spider web patterns across the screen. It literally busted into chunks. Who’s laughing now?
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the 100-word expert, who’s been known to burst into creepy laughter, is Alexa Echo 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 ensemble of practicing fic-titioners in the writers in FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
“Welcome to the open house at Brainfart Manor. You will notice that fixtures, furniture, and artwork have been updated to reflect the theme Beyond Shabby Chic, as directed by Lord Brainfart.”
“Wow. I’ve never seen polka dot drapes in the same room with zebra-stripe carpet. And that’s an interesting piece of art. Who did that?”
“That, Madam, is an original finger-painting by Timothy Leary. It’s called Psychedelic Ecstasy.”
“Did Lord Brainfart personally select these items?”
“No, Madam. He enlisted an Inferior Decorator, Mr. Claude Bawls.”
“Wow, an Inferior Decorator. That must have cost a fortune.”
“Yes, Madam. Claude Bawls doesn’t come cheap.”
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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