Here’s an enigma for you. Since I’ve retired, time has sped up. The period between 6am and 6pm is now four hours. Carve out a couple of meals and there’s barely enough time left to accomplish anything.
Plus, if you’re like me and spent forty years earning a degree in Laziness and Procrastination from Hard Knocks University, even a small task will take weeks, possibly months to complete.
The reduced hours in a day has also caused adjustment problems for my wife. With me underfoot, poor Connie now has twice as much work to do and only half the time to get it done.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, our ambitious, “Get ‘er Done” coordinator of 100-word tales is Lori The-Book-Table-Gal 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.
copyright – J.S. Brand
“What did the mime look like?”
“Like a mime, dammit. That’s like asking what a penguin looks like. They may come in different sizes, but they’re all penguins to me.”
“Was it a man or a woman?”
“I repeat—it was a mime, dammit. I don’t know how to tell what gender they are. The pissed-off woman referred to it as Shelby, or Shelley—something like that.”
“Boy, you’re a lot of help.”
“Lowry, you’re the friggin’ detective. If you want to know what sex the mime is, go down to the Family Mart and do a full cavity search.
Horror, Psychological Thrillers, Flash Fiction, and Poetry
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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.
Growing older is inevitable. Growing up is optional.
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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.
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Stylistically Abusing Language for the Betterment of Mankind
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