The Paper Boy

Greg hated math. He wasn’t good at it, didn’t understand it, nor did he care to. In Greg’s mind, his Algebra 1 class was inconsequential to his future and whatever that future may or may not hold. Greg wasn’t interested in much of anything, if the truth were to be known. Girls, sports, cars; all…

The Book of Samuel

  There was pregnant pause fit for an ellipsis at the Plath Institute for the Punctuationally Perplexed. Apostrophes dangled in mid-air—like modifiers—pondering their functions. Were they in for possession, or did their presence suggest a multitude of charges? Commas found themselves scattered, unsure of where to go and how many of them were necessary. Meanwhile, the semi-colons, colons and em-dashes jockeyed for position in the…

Opa!

“So, tell me, Marina…” Jackie began as she put her work away for the day. “What big plans do you have for Valentine’s Day?” Marina shook her head and sighed. “I no have a the big plans. Is a very sad day for me. Very sad.” “I’m so sorry,” Jackie replied. “Did you have a boyfriend…

Art Appreciation

It was the first thing she saw each morning when she woke up, and the last thing she saw before falling asleep. It bungled her dreams and ruined her days. For as far back as Tammy could remember it had hung there, taking up almost the entire wall. The monstrosity was an eyesore; a waste of valuable space where Barry Manilow…

How I Met Moon-Doggie

  “Fly Me To The Moon” was playing on my iPod again. Love that song. All that money spent on a professional make-up artist, streaming down my cheeks like an insane child’s finger-painting. People hurried past, concerned with their own affairs, scarcely glancing at my psychedelic face. That just goes to show you how self-absorbed people could be nowadays….

With One Eye Closed

Today’s writing prompt at The Daily Post is the word, bespoke. ** Each day I am tormented when I search the newspaper obituary column and find you  unlisted. I am afraid to leave my apartment: you could be everywhere. I check and double-check the six locks bolted to my splitting wooden door. Then, with one…

Wild-Ass Recipe

  Birds were chirping, bees were buzzing, and flowers blooming. In other words, it was a typical summer afternoon in the oxymoronic, Normal, IL  home of the Wild-Ass Limborg brothers. One would expect that such a gorgeous day would have goosed the boys’ imaginations beyond the speed limit, but they were having none of it. Instead, Sebo…

Wild-Ass Detectives

  We join the Lindborg family in Florence, Italy on the second leg of their family vacation. Here, at the Uffizi  Museum of Art, François and Sebastian try their inept hands at art interpretation. “Dude!” Sebastian whispered and pointed to La Primavera. “Lookit!” François’ gaze followed his brother’s outstretched finger. “Whoa! All the girls look…

Wild, Wild Asses

This week’s prompts as Grammar Ghoul Press are the word, “tonic” and the visual prompt Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry, by the Limbourg Brothers. ¢¢ It was inevitable. The entire town knew it was just a matter of time before the wild-ass Limbourg brothers and the de Berry twins, Dingle & Razz, would hook-up. And they were afraid….

A Spoon in the Desert

Today’s writing prompt at The Daily Post is the word, treasure. ** “Hey, Abdul!” “Hey guys, what’s up?” “Where’ve you been all summer? It’s the first day of school and we never even got to hang out!” Habib complained. “You’d never believe me.” Abdul shook his head with a wry grin. “It’s too…amazing.” “Sure we would….

Dead Dolly

Today’s writing prompt at The Daily Post is the word echo. ** Until the day I die, I’ll never forget them glassy, unblinking eyes. You know, I’d made that gris-gris—what you all call a Voodoo Doll— myself.  Mawmaw taught me how  when I was a kid back in Bayou Lafourche.  She said that since we were direct descendents of…

Mug-Z’s

There are three over-sized concrete steps to navigate before I reach the threshold of the doorway that I always trip over. It’s been there every day, just like me, for the past 30 years and I still trip over the same wayward chunk of rubber. This skid-clunk is my trademark. Snickers here, pockets of chuckles…