Ghosts and Ghouls

A2D71804-9D70-44BA-9A92-5DE7A3D34AAF“There’s something present in this old house besides us,” William said. “Don’t you feel its presence? It’s evil, malevolent.”

“Don’t be daft,” George responded. “There you go again with all of your paranormal codswallop. Can’t you use that space between your ears for something other than your claptrap about ghosts and ghouls?”

The sound of a crash from the next room set both boys on edge. “What the hell was that?” George asked.

“Are you sure this is all nonsense?” William whispered to George. After a brief interlude, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the room they were in caused the hairs on the back of both boys’ necks to stand on end. George felt warm liquid streaming down his leg. “Shit, I just peed myself. I’m getting outta here.” He started running toward the front door of the old house.

Before he could reach the door, he ran into a large entity blocking his exit. George let out a bloodcurdling scream. Then he heard the “thing” in front of him start laughing, while from behind him he heard the familiar sound of William’s laughter.

Confused, George looked up to see that the thing blocking the front door was Todd, an offensive lineman on the high school football team known as “Tank.” George turned and looked at William, who was laughing so hard that tears were running down his cheeks.

“You fuckers set me up, didn’t you?” George growled. William and Tank were still laughing hysterically. “The only evil, malevolent presences in this place are the two of you.”


Written for these daily prompts: jibber Jabber (present), Fandango’s One-World Challenge (paranormal), Word of the Day Challenge (codswallop), Ragtag Daily Prompt (space), The Daily Spur (crash), and Your Daily Word Prompt (interlude). Photo credit: Tommy-Noker at DeviantArt.com.

Do Your Job and I’ll Do Mine

FC262852-0193-487E-B165-3DBB22281AF3“If I throw it your way, can I trust you to catch the ball to not bobble and drop it?” the quarterback asked.

Totally,” the wide receiver said. “Especially if you throw a strike right into my outstretched arms.”

The quarterback looked at the receiver and smiled. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll do my job, just make sure you do yours.”


Written for these daily prompts: Word of the Day Challenge (trust), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (catch), Ragtag Daily Prompt (bobble), Jibber Jabber (totally), and The Daily Spur (strike).

Weekend Writing Prompt — Misanthrope

34191F48-610E-42E8-A93C-B45F1F5A53CE“Oh honey, let’s go somewhere on a nice holiday,” Mildred said. “I know, we can go to thebeach. It will be so much fun.”

“I can’t,” Frank said. “I am way too busy at work.”

“Please, Frank,” Mildred pleaded. “I need something fierce for us to get away for a few days.”

“I ain’t taking you on a holiday to the beach, Mildred,” Frank said. “There will be too many people there and I hate people, plain and simple.”

“Oh why did I ever marry a misanthrope like you, Frank?” Mildred whined.

“It was inevitable, my dear Mildred.”

(99 words)


Written for the Weekend Writing Prompt from Sammi Cox.53E45042-D5ED-4ED3-9C30-6B1949AE56E4Also for these daily prompts: The Daily Spur (holiday), Ragtag Daily Prompt (beach), Jibber Jabber (work), Word of the Day Challenge (fierce), and Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (inevitable).

Kismet

A79BF860-AB06-4869-A273-A01CC9EF3F5A“So how did it go?” Liz asked her housemate. “I figured it must have gone well, since you didn’t get back from your blind date until early this morning.”

“Well, the thing is, I never made it to my date,” Anita said. “I was about to enter the café when a guy on a bicycle came roaring along the sidewalk and hit a pedestrian.”

“Oh no!” Liz exclaimed. “Was the pedestrian hurt?”

“He was flat on his back and was bleeding from the back of his head, but he was conscious,” Anita said. “I asked him how he was feeling, and he looked up at me, smiled, and told me he was literally seeing stars.”

“Wow, he was a pretty good sport, all things considered,” Anita said. “So what happened to him?”

“It was really strange,” Liz said. “He started to ramble on about what sounded like nonsense. It scared me, so I called 9-1-1. The paramedics arrived a few minutes later and said that he likely had a concussion and they had to take him to the hospital. They asked me if I wanted to ride in the ambulance and I said that I did. I was worried about the poor guy.”

Liz got up and poured herself a cup of coffee. “They examined him in the ER and saw that he did have a concussion and they wanted to keep him under observation for the night. They put in an IV and got him situated,” Liz said. “I decided to stay with him for a while. He was no longer babbling nonsense and so we started talking. He was very grateful to me for staying with him, and he was so easy to talk with. And, by the way, he was very easy on the eyes.”

Anita gave Liz an knowing look. “And the rest of the story?”

“I stayed with him in the ER until they got him a bed in a room. They’re going to keep him there for at least another day. But before I left, I gave him my number and told him that I’d love, when he’s feeling up to it, to see him again. Funny, isn’t it, how the night turned out.”

“Kismet,” Anita said, winking at Liz.


Written for these daily prompts: Weekly Prompts (pedestrian), Word of the Day Challenge (feeling), The Daily Spur (sport), Ragtag Daily Prompt (stars), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (ramble), and Jibber Jabber (funny.)

SoCS — Out, Out Damn Spot

EA0786EC-704A-4A1C-903E-A7250D007704Linda G. Hill has asked us to write about the word “spot” for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt. All I had to do was look down at my shirt to know what to write about.

I admit that I am a food slob. No, that’s not a typo. I meant food slob and not food snob. Food has a magnetic-like attraction to my shirts. Rarely am I able to complete a meal without leaving telltale signs of that meal on my clothing. I think I missed that day in school when they taught us how to maneuver a food-filled fork or spoon from a plate to the mouth without dropping something on one’s shirt.

My wife puts some sort of powerful spot remover on my shirts (or pants) to get rid of those food stains. Unfortunately, even after pre-treating my shirts with her miracle spot remover, many of my shirts come out of the washing machine with faded spots of carelessly dropped foods still visible.

It’s embarrassing to be having dinner with people (other than my wife, who has come to accept all the food spots on my shirts) when others spot my food stain spots.

But one of the very few good things about the coronavirus pandemic and having to stay at home, is that virtually all of my meals since early March have been at home, where only my wife is a witness to my unique ability to wear what I eat after nearly every meal.

I’m almost dreading the day when I’ll be permitted to go out and dine at a restaurant around other people. First of all, given the various food stains and spots on nearly all the shirts I currently own, I’ll have to buy some new ones to wear outside of my home.

Since I’m too old to wear a bib, I feel like I ought to be proactive and label my shirts in advance.70122359-C570-4C42-ACF2-8B0E7D73A7DF