3TC — Lunch at the Canteen

6F378490-480E-46D9-B744-7101F8E01A7D“I’m hungry, Sarge. I’m heading over to the base canteen to grab some lunch,” Private Bailey said to Sarge. “Wanna join me?”

“Sure, Beetle. Let’s do it,” Sarge said. “My stomach is starting to grumble.”


“Hey Beetle, I couldn’t help overhearing you and Sarge talking,” Private “Killer” Diller said. “Would it be okay if I joined you and Sarge if you’re going to the canteen? The mushroom soup they serve there is really special.”

“You betcha, Killer,” Beetle said, “Personally I’m not crazy about mushroom soup so I’ll pass on that. But the hot dogs at the canteen are world class. Let’s go.”

And so the three soldiers happily headed to the canteen.


Written for Teresa’s Three Things Challenge where the three things are canteen, lunch, and soup.

#writephoto — The Peddler

08BA0259-6C3F-4A10-8B82-EEDDD9EAEF0FSince his retirement a year ago, Henry was in the habit of taking a brisk walk early each morning along the moor. The thick mist was another average autumn morning for the area.

Continuing along the path on his daily hike, Henry caught some movement around the ruins of the old church from the corner of his eye. That old stone building had been condemned and no one was supposed to be on the property.

Henry decided to walk toward the building to investigate. When he got to the building, he looked inside and saw a man sitting on a log smoking a pipe. “Excuse me, sir,” Henry said to the man. “By whose permission are you here?”

The man looked up at Henry. He took a deep puff on his pipe before answering. “Good sir,” the man said. “I am a simple peddler just trying to make a meager living from selling of my wares. I found this oasis from the elements in which you have found me. I thought this empty building to be a convenient place to provide me with shelter for a few days.”

“From what is it that you are seeking shelter?” Henry asked.

“That is a fair question, good sir,” the peddler said. “To be honest with you, I ran into some, shall we say, issues at a town I just visited,” the peddler admitted. “I needed to leave quickly and I stumbled upon this place.”

“Were your actions illegal?” Henry asked. “Are you hiding from the law?”

“Not technicality illegal, but perhaps questionable,” he responded. “But if you allow me to stay here just until the morning, I will give you this beautifully crafted pewter mug to repay you for your kindness.” The peddler reached into his sack and pulled out a large pewter stein, stood up, and handed it to Henry.

Henry examined the stein and realized it had significant value. “Fine,” he said to the peddler. “But oasis or not, if you are still here when I go for my walk tomorrow morning, I shall report you to the authorities.”

“Bless you, good sir,” the peddler said, bowing down to Henry. “I appreciate your kindness.”

And with that, Henry left the old abandoned church and the peddler behind. He headed directly to town constable to report what he had seen.

Written for Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Prompt. And for the following one-word prompts: Daily Addictions (average), Scotts Daily Prompt (permission), Word of the Day Challenge (peddler), Ragtag Daily Prompt (oasis), and Your Daily Word Prompt (convenient).

Through the Looking Glass

3C35E73F-D488-430A-8E90-C1519D8E577C“I think that Puerto Rico was an incredible, unsung success,” Donald Trump claimed of the job he and his administration did last year after the island was hit by a devastating hurricane. He also claimed that, “in a certain way, the best job we did was Puerto Rico, but nobody would understand that. I mean, it’s harder to understand.”

Earlier this month, Puerto Rico’s governor formally raised the death toll from Hurricane Maria to an estimated 2,975 from 64 following a study conducted by researchers at The George Washington University.

But of course, looking through whatever prism it is that he uses to view the world, Trump refutes the report and denies that nearly 3,000 people in Puerto Rico died as a result of Hurricane Maria. This morning he tweeted:

“3000 people did not die in the two hurricanes that hit Puerto Rico. When I left the Island, AFTER the storm had hit, they had anywhere from 6 to 18 deaths. As time went by it did not go up by much. Then, a long time later, they started to report really large numbers, like 3000…

“…..This was done by the Democrats in order to make me look as bad as possible when I was successfully raising Billions of Dollars to help rebuild Puerto Rico. If a person died for any reason, like old age, just add them onto the list. Bad politics. I love Puerto Rico!”

The current President of the United States is, as his former Secretary of State, Rex Tillerson allegedly said, a fucking moron.

Written for today’s Fandango’s One-Word Challenge, “prism.”

Tale Weaver — Breaking New Ground

99CD6FA0-E1E1-463E-8A29-C0C0E51C773BFor this week’s Tale Weaver prompt from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, we are asked to consider the idea of going into the unknown. I was thinking about writing a piece of flash fiction, maybe some sci-fi or fantasy post, but then I thought about four times in my life when I felt, at the time, I was stepping into the unknown.

My first job after graduating from college

After spending sixteen of my first 21 years in school, I graduated from college and entered the workforce. Not some paper route thing or making ice cream sundaes part-time at the local ice cream shop. I’m talking about a full-time, grown-up job. I was hired as a management trainee at an insurance company and I had no idea what to expect. I ended up becoming a “senior manager” and spending ten years with that organization.

Getting married

I was a wild and crazy guy and I loved being single. I remained single until I was 32 when I married the girl I’d been dating for two years. Learning to share yourself completely with another person, especially when you start late, like I did, was a whole new way of life. Fortunately, I adapted. And so did she.

Becoming an empty nester

Kids take a lot of time, effort, energy, and attention, and my wife and I spent most of the first 25 years of our lives together dedicating ourselves to raising our two kids. Then one day, they were both out of our house and I suddenly wondered what, aside from our kids, my wife and I had in common. That was scary. But it turned out to be a period of relationship rediscovery and enrichment. After a while I hardly missed not having our kids around all the time.


I had, for my entire adult life, defined myself by what I did for work. And then I retired. For the first time in almost five decades I didn’t have a job. No boss, no coworkers, no subordinates. No meetings, no conference calls, no business trips. So who was I? What was I supposed to do with my time now that I no longer was working? Talk about stepping into the unknown. Well, it’s been about three years since I retired and I have discovered that there’s much more to me — and to life — than what I did for a living.

I’m sure there have been times in all of your lives when you felt like you were stepping into the unknown. I’d love to hear from some of you what your “into the unknown”experiences were.

FFfPP — The Pumkin Harvest

9A8D1156-3948-495C-943A-98C3B11ACA9A.jpeg“Those goddam hoodlums are at it again,” Caleb complained to his brother as they headed out to the field to start harvesting their pumpkins.

“Relax, brother,” Jebediah said. “Those young hooligans do this every year right before the pumpkin harvest. It’s almost an annual tradition.”

“Well I don’t like it, Jeb,” Caleb said. “Our work is hard enough without them whippersnappers making it even harder.”

“Look at it this way, Caleb,” Jebediah said. “We would have to haul all of those pumpkins out of the field and over to our truck by ourselves, right?”

“Yeah,” Caleb admitted, “but now we have to unload a bunch of them out of the truck’s cab and away from the wheels and onto the truck bed. It’s just more for us to do.”

“That’s True,” Jebediah acknowledged, “but they were careful with the pumpkins. They didn’t destroy any of ‘em.”

“Oh, you mean like that group of boys from about fifteen years back that we caught smashing all of our pumpkins?” Caleb asked.

“Yeah, Caleb,” Jebediah answered. “And I heard that them very same boys formed a rock and roll band and cut a hit few records. Called themselves The Smashing Pumpkins.”

(199 words)

Written for this week’s Flash Fiction for Purposeful Practitioner from Roger Shipp. Photo credit: MorgueFile May 2018 1413924415vgvbk.