Have you every taken something important and put it in a “Special Place” to make it easier to find the next time you needed it? This simple act is a reflection of your highly advanced organizational skills, forethought, and planning.
However, it is also the best way I know of to lose something permanently. There must be at least twenty-five things in this house that I’ve hidden from myself and can’t find. The problem lies in remembering where the “Special Place” is. And as soon as I go to the time, trouble, and expense to replace the missing item, it immediately turns up. I call this Murphy’s Law of Outsmarting Yourself.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the little chickadee who fluffs her nest with 100-word stories is Flower Belle Lee 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.
A passenger train, The Cornish Scot is creeping along at a snail’s pace. Finally it grinds to a halt, and Sandra sees Conductor Ayr walking by outside.
“Why are we stopping?” she yells out the window.
“There’s a cow on the tracks, Madam!” he replies.
Ten minutes later, the train resumes its dreadfully slow crawl.
The train had barely gone one kilometer when it creaked to a halt once more. Sandra sees Conductor Ayr passing her window again.
She leans out and yells, “What happened? Did we catch up with the cow?”
Horror, Psychological Thrillers, Poetry, Flash Fiction
Stories From Within
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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