FFfPP — Fireworks

7838237F-1914-48E1-9666-E4E0D19F6C88On the Fourth of July, when Independence Day is celebrated in the U.S., nearly every city and town across the country puts on fireworks displays. Many also shoot off fireworks as the clock strikes midnight on New Year’s Eve.

Everybody loves fireworks, right? I mean who doesn’t love fireworks. So dramatic, so colorful, so loud. The rockets’ red glare, the bombs bursting in air. So inspirational.

Well, I’ll tell you who doesn’t like fireworks. Me! I don’t like fireworks. Because my dog is terrified by fireworks. Terrified!

Whenever she hears fireworks, she begins shaking all over. She will sometimes walk into the shower or jump into the bathtub, but as long as she hears the explosions of the fireworks, she is beyond consolation. I worry that her heart will give out.

My wife and I try turning up the volume on the TV or the radio to cover up the sounds, but that doesn’t do the trick. The only cure is time, and it usually takes about an hour after the fireworks are over before our poor dog calms down enough to breathe and behave normally again.

So no, when it comes to fireworks, I’m definitely not a fan.

(199 words)


Written for Roger Shipp’s Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. Photo credit: MorgueFile Fidler Jan New Year’s. I realize that this post isn’t a work of fiction, but when I saw the picture of exploding fireworks, this is all I could think of writing.

FFfPP — Technological Obsolescence

img_2854All of Bill’s photographic and video equipment was laid out on the crocheted bedspread.

“I know Bill’s going to take me,” the Pentax SLR said. “I am the most sophisticated camera here.”

“Great,” said the long, telephoto lens next to the Pentax. “Then he’ll probably take me, too.”

“Hey, what about me?” objected the Olympia SLR.

“You’re old,” said the Bell & Howell 35mm. “I think I’m the perfect solution…compact and lightweight.”

“Excuse me,” said the Samsung Maxima. “I’m compact, lightweight, and digital! No futzing around with filming and developing.”

“Fuhgeddaboudit,” said the Sony video tape camera. “You stills are so one dimensional. I can catch all of the action, not just snapshots.”

“Hold on a second,” said the Chinon digital video camera. “I use an SD memory card for my video images so that Bill can shoot his videos and easily upload and edit them on his computer. I’m the obvious choice.”

“Shh,” Bill’s coming,” said the Snappy.

Bill entered the room, pulled out his iPhone and took a picture of all his photographic equipment. “Now that my iPhone can take great pictures and videos, let’s see what I can sell all this junk for on Craigslist.”

(198 words)


Written for Roger Shipp’s Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. Photo credit: OctMorgueFIle 2018 3aaef119ddeda7b5fc5175d55c4df183.

FFfPP — The Final Resting Place

A001E6FB-17B4-42D3-80C2-D09C31F70C62“How many bedrooms and bathrooms?” Dave asked the realtor.

“The house is a shell,” she responded, “You’ll have the flexibility to configure it any way that meets your needs.”

“How long do you think it will take to complete the renovations?” Lizzie asked her husband.

“I think we could get the work done in maybe six months if we don’t run into any major structural issues,” Dave responded.

“The bones are solid,” the realtor assured them. “But it will need all new wiring and plumbing. That’s why it’s been priced way below market for a house this size sitting on four acres of land.”

“And you said that it is zoned for commercial use?” Dave asked.

“Yes, commercial and residential,” the realtor answered.

“Let’s do it,” Lizzie said.

“You really think we can handle it?” Dave asked. “This will be the biggest project we’ve taken on.”

“Yes, it will be perfect.” Lizzie said. “We can live in part of the house and set up the mortuary and chapel in the other part. And there’s plenty of room on the four acres for the cemetery. It will be the perfect final resting place for our clients.

(198 words)


Written for Roger Shipp’s Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. Photo credit: AugustMorgueFIle 1385913133hxuxw.

And for Daily Addictions (complete).

FFfPP — The Off-Season

912C6270-710D-4F6A-B22A-8B1F541EAF71“I’m sick and tired of this ever present fog around here,” Marie said. “We haven’t seen the sun since we first arrived.”

“That’s why the rates are so cheap,” Jim said. “It’s the off-season here. This is the only way we could afford to take this trip. It would have cost three or four times more if we had booked during the high-season.”

“Then we should have gone somewhere else,” Marie said. “The brochure said that our cabin has an ocean view to the west and a mountain view to the east.” Pointing west, she said, “Do you see the ocean through the window, Jim?”

“No,” Jim responded.

Marie then turned and pointed toward the east. “What about the mountains?”

“No,” Jim said.

“No,” Marie said. “No ocean, no mountains. A fog so thick you can barely see your hands in front of your face. And it’s cold and damp. This is the worst vacation ever.”

“Are you done?” Jim asked.

“Yes, Jim, I’m so very done.”

Jim put on his cap and jacket and walked out of the cabin door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Maria shouted after him, but Jim had already disappeared into the thick fog.

(200 words)


Written for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner from Roger Shipp. Photo credit: 14946675160vn34 AugustMorgue File.

FFfPP — Who’s a Good Boy?

57BDF863-4DB4-4015-8BB5-A93840AA0647“Who’s a good boy?” Adam called out to Bandit. “You’re a good boy. Oh yes you are.”

“If he’s such a good boy,” Sally said, “Why isn’t he listening to you? He’s just trotting away, not bringing the ball back.”

“He’ll bring it back to me when he’s ready,” Adam said to Sally. And then turning to Bandit, he said, “Yes you will, because you’re a good boy.”

“You seriously need to take that dog to obedience school,” Sally said.

“He is obedient,” Adam insisted, “But on his own terms, that’s all.”

“So who’s the master and who’s the pet in this dynamic?” Sally asked, “because he does whatever he wants and not what you want him to.”

As Adam and Sally were watching Bandit play in the pond’s shallow water, two men came up behind them. “Your wallets and your phones,” one of them, brandishing a knife, said. Sally screamed and Adam called out, “Bandit!”

The large golden retriever bounded out of the water, barking loudly. The man with the knife dropped it, and the two horrified muggers ran off.

“Who’s a good boy?” Sally said, bending down to embrace Bandit when he came running back to them. “You’re a good boy. Oh yes you are.”

(207 words)


Written for Roger Shipp’s Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. Photo credit: MorgueFileJune2018 1418535473h5g6w. Sorry I went over the 200 word limit by seven words.