We were at my daughter’s house the other day and she was watching “Hollywood Medium” on TV. This is a show where a handsome young man scribbles on a notepad while visiting with celebrities about their deceased relatives.
It seems to me that people in the income bracket these actors enjoy could afford someone a step above “Medium.” Why settle for average, or middle-of-the-road when you could order a “Supreme?”
If I was going to the time, trouble, and expense of hiring a psychic, I’d at least try to get one who could provide me the winning numbers for the next Mega-Millions Jackpot.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, our wave-swept leader (who writes to her invisible friend, “Friday,” on Wednesdays) is Robin Crusoe Wisoff-Fields. If you’d like to participate in this exercise in madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
copyright – Susan Eames
Darren was a patient man, but his patience was wearing thin. The minutes turned into hours, and the days into weeks.
From his perch high above the sand, he scanned the distant horizon in hopes of seeing a tiny spec that would grow into a boat or seaplane.
He’d grown accustomed to the long days, and the even longer, lonely nights. The only thing that kept him going was a dream of deliverance. Shaking from the hunger pangs he punched in the 800 number and waited.
“Hello. Domino’s?” He shouted into the phone. “Where’s my damn pizza?”
Poetry, Horror, Psychological Thrillers
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.
Growing older is inevitable. Growing up is optional.
I may make you feel, but I can't make you think.
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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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