Silent But Deadly

424DEC72-6FC0-48F1-A017-469FE9FFF995“Did you just fart?” Angela asked her boyfriend.

Chuck laughed. “Yeah,” he said. “Take a whiff.”

“That’s not funny, Chuck,” Angela said. “Farting in public is a horrible trait. And I especially object to you farting in front of me.”

“Don’t be so dense,” Chuck said. “Everyone farts and it’s much healthier to let it out than to try to hold it in. It’s a natural bodily function.”

“It’s bizarre is what it is,” Angela said. “I know you think you have a magnetic personality, but that magnetism you so highly prize is not enough to overcome your silent but very deadly farts.”

“Stop being so uptight,” Chuck said. “Go ahead, Angie, let one rip. You’ll feel better.”

Angela looked at Chuck and said, “Fine.” And then she leaned a little to her left, slightly lifted one butt cheek off the couch cushion, and did, indeed, let one rip.

Chuck took a deep breath, grimaced, and said, “You were right, Angie. Please don’t ever do that again in my presence.”

Written for the following one-word prompts: Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (whiff), Scotts Daily Prompt (trait), Ragtag Daily Prompt (object), Daily Addictions (dense), Your Daily Word Prompt (bizarre), and Word of the Day Challenge (magnetic).


SandmanJazz put out a writing challenge to write a piece of short fiction using one of three groups of items. I chose to write about a broken down bus, a thirty year old telegram, and a local election.

Here goes.

Most of the townfolks showed up at the high school auditorium for the debate between incumbent mayor Jeff Cooper and challenger Jack Mayberry. Jack was asked by the debate moderator to make his opening remarks first.

“Good evening, everyone,” he said. “Unlike most politicians, I’m going to be totally honest with you. I’m not a politician. In fact, up until recently, I didn’t have a political bone in my body. I never planned to run for mayor in this local election. But then I experienced what I can only describe as serendipity.”

You could hear a pin drop in the filled-to-capacity room. “As most of you know, I was born right here and have lived in this town all my life. Last year I bought a broken down bus and had it towed to a small parcel of land I own in town,” Jack said.71DEDC63-67BD-4CF5-A1C7-9671863F0B06 “My plan was to convert the old bus into a tiny house and move into it from the apartment I’ve been living in for the past eight years.”

Jack paused for a minute, sighed, and continued with his opening remarks. “As I was removing all of the seats from the old bus, I found something very disturbing and it changed the trajectory of my life. It was a thirty-year-old telegram and it’s because of that telegram that I’m here before you tonight and asking for your vote.” At that point Jack said “Thank you,” and took his seat.

Astonished, the debate moderator looked at Jack and said, “Aren’t you going to tell us what the telegram said?”

“Ask him,” Jack said, pointing to his opponent.

Sunday Photo Fiction — One Man’s Junk

F4463EFA-0E1A-43E9-82C0-17A0642EC950When the fierce windstorm blew down a large limb from the old tree tree in his backyard, it fell on the two old rocking chairs that Archie kept on his patio, which he reluctantly decided to trash.

Archie took the two chairs and put them on his front lawn. He dragged the felled tree branch and placed it across the two chairs and then called a local trash company to haul it away.

About an hour later there was a knock at the door. Archie headed to the front door and flung it open. “Yeah?” he said.

“Is that yours?” a man said, pointing to the chairs and tree branch draped over them.

“Yeah,” Archie said. “I’ve arranged to have ‘em hauled off tomorrow, so don’t worry about it. It will be gone soon.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” the man responded. “I’m the associate curator for the Museum of Modern Art. I was walking by, took a picture, and sent it to my boss. He wants to display it as is in an exhibit at the museum.”

“Seriously?” Archie said. “Well, I guess what they is true.”

“What’s that?” the man asked.

“One man’s junk is another man’s treasure.”

Written for Sue Spaulding’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt. Photo credit: yours truly. Taken at the de Young Museum in Golden Gate Park. Also for my FOWC prompt from yesterday, “fierce.”

Song Lyric Sunday — Tracks of My Tears

My first inclination when I saw that Helen Vahdati’s Song Lyric Sunday theme this week was “lost,” was to go with the Righteous Brothers’ song, “You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling.” But then I remembered a song about love lost from my early college days after the girl of my dreams jilted me. That song is “The Tracks of My Tears” by Smokey Robinson and the Miracles.

Written by Smokey Robinson, Pete Moore, and Marv Tarplin, and released on Motown’s Tamla label, it was a 1965 R&B hit for The Miracles, reaching number 2 on the Billboard R&B chart, and number 16 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart.

The song is about a guy who is trying to put on a brave face even though he’s completely torn apart inside from needing somebody who isn’t there anymore. It illustrates how someone attempts to hide the sadness of a lost love with a smile.

Here are the lyrics to “The Tracks of My Tears.”

People say I’m the life of the party
Because I tell a joke or two
Although I might be laughing loud and hearty
Deep inside I’m blue

So take a good look at my face
You’ll see my smile looks out of place
If you look closer, it’s easy to trace
The tracks of my tears
I need you, need you

Since you left me if you see me with another girl
Seeming like I’m having fun
Although she may be cute
She’s just a substitute
Because you’re the permanent one

So take a good look at my face
You’ll see my smile looks out of place
If you look a little bit closer, it’s easy to trace
The tracks of my tears
I need you, need you

Outside I’m masquerading
Inside my hope is fading
Just a clown oh yeah
Since you put me down
My smile is my make up
I wear since my break up with you

So baby take a good look at my face
You’ll see my smile looks out of place
Yeah just look closer, it’s easy to trace
The tracks of my tears, baby, baby

Baby take a good look at my face
You’ll see my smile looks out of place
Oh look a little bit closer, it’s easy to trace
The tracks of my tears

FOWC with Fandango — Whiff

FOWCWelcome to October 21, 2018 and to Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (aka, FOWC). It’s designed to fill the void after WordPress bailed on its daily one-word prompt.

I will be posting each day’s word just after midnight Pacific Time (US).

Today’s word is “whiff.”

Write a post using that word. It can be prose, poetry, fiction, non-fiction. It can be any length. It can be just a picture or a drawing if you want. No holds barred, so to speak.

Once you are done, tag your post with #FOWC and create a pingback to this post if you are on WordPress. Or you can simply include a link to your post in the comments.

And be sure to read the posts of other bloggers who respond to this prompt. You will marvel at their creativity.