Living on Borrowed Time

A friend of mine told me about a site he found on the web called “Death Clock,” or something like that. He said you answer a few questions, like date of birth, where you live, health status, if you drink alcohol or smoke cigarettes, and your overall outlook on life. Based upon your answers, the app will come back at you with the date you are projected to die.

Now I’m not obsessed with death or anything, but I thought it might be interesting to find out what these sites projected my death date to be. So I Googled “Death Clock.”

The first site I went to,, told me I have a little over two years to live.

I didn’t particularly like that answer so I tried a different site,, and, surprise surprise, I got a different, and better, answer:

That gives me about 12 1/2 years. Woo hoo!

But then I tried a third site and the answer wasn’t so good:

I’m already dead, according to

So either two years and two months, 12 years and six months, or I’m already dead and living on borrowed time.

And to think I didn’t believe in an afterlife. Apparently, I’m already there and it’s inside of the WordPress app!


Frank was walking the new hire, Hal, around the “bullpen,” which is what the large room with dozens of small cubicles that housed the coders was called. Frank pointed to a cubicle. “This is your home away from home, Newbee. Put your stuff down here and I’ll show you around your neighborhood.”

Hal followed Frank around the cubicles surrounding his assigned cubicle. “That’s ‘Stealth’ over there,” Frank said, pointing to a guy in the cubicle next to Hal’s. “We call him ‘Stealth’ because you never see or hear him coming and suddenly he is standing right behind you in your cubicle.”

Frank then called Hal’s attention to another cubicle. “That guy is ‘Stinky,'” Frank said. “He has a serious flatulence problem. You’ll want to avoid hanging out in his cube.” They walked to another cubicle where Frank pointed out a girl who he told Hal was called ‘Minty.’

“Why ‘Minty’?” Hal asked.

“You’ll need to have a roll of mints every time you have to talk to her. Make sure to ask her if she wants one. Otherwise, her bad breath will knock you over.”

“And we call her ‘Pigeon,'” Frank said, pointing to a rather matronly-looking older woman.

“Pigeon?” Hal said.

“Yeah,” Frank elaborated. “When she walks, she struts like a pigeon, her head bobbing back and forth while her big butt bounces behind her.”

“Do you have denigrating nicknames for everyone around here?” Hal asked.

“For most of them, yeah,” responded Frank. Hal wondered what nickname Frank would give him.

A little later that day, Hal was startled to find ‘Stealth’ standing behind him in his cubicle. “Oh hi,” Hal said. “Can I ask you a question? Frank seems to have nicknames for everyone who works here.”

“Yeah,” responded Stealth. “It’s really annoying.”

“Does Frank have a nickname?”

Stealth smiled, leaned in toward Hal and whispered, “Yeah. It’s ‘Asshole.'”

Written for today’s one-word prompt, “strut.”

Friday Fictioneers — A Fish Out of Water

img_0069“Bloomingdales?” Clarissa said. “Seriously, Mom?”

“Why not, Sweetie?” Alice asked. “Bloomies has beautiful clothing and exquisite accessories that would be perfect for your new job. And the shoes there are fabulous.”

“Mom, I am a programmer,” Clarissa explained. “I can wear jeans and sneakers at work. ‘Beautiful, ‘exquisite,’ and ‘fabulous’ would be overkill.”

“But they have professional shoppers at Bloomies,” Alice added.

“Sheesh, Mom, I’m a Ross Dress for Less and a Target kind of a girl,” Clarissa said. “I’d be a fish out of water at Bloomingdales.”

“I’m paying, Sweetheart,” Alice said.

“Okay, fine, Mom,” Clarissa said. “Bloomies it is.”

(100 words)

Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Marie Gail Stratford.