I’m posting a letter to the editor that appeared in my local paper yesterday. I thought it made a good point, it expressed how I feel about those who stubbornly and selfishly refuse to get COVID vaccinations, and it was presented in an articulate way.

There are a lot of rationalizations about why some people refuse to get vaccinated and wear masks and follow the health guidelines. But at its heart, the people making this choice are say­ing one thing: It’s me above you. It’s me above my family, above my coworkers, above the people I pass on the stree­t and, above my city. It’s me above my country. I’m more important than any­ one else. This is the dark side of that so-called American freedom.

If you want to go live on a deserted island, then go. Otherwise, if you want to live in a society, you need to grow up and learn to take responsibility. You have the free­dom to get sick and maybe die, but you don’t have the right to hurt others in the process.

This letter was written by Scott Serata of Oakland, CA.

Weekend Writing Prompt/Sunday Writing Prompt — Forage and Freedom

“Hey you, what are you doing in that field in your underwear?” the woman yelled at the young man.

“I’m foraging for mushrooms, lady,” he answered, as if doing so in one’s boxers was not at all unusual. “It’s hot and I love the feel of the breeze on my, um, privates. It gives me a sense of freedom. At least I’m not naked.”

A hungry look graced the woman’s face. “Drop those boxers and I might just give you a hand.”

(82 words)

Written for Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt, where the word is “forage.”Also for the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt, where the word is “Freedom.” Also for these daily prompts: Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (underwear) and The Daily Spur (love).

Thursday Inspiration — The Call

The office Christmas party last December was in full swing and it was the bomb. Everyone was feeling quite jolly (another way of saying drunk) and some interesting goings on were taking place. Like when Janice, my boss’ wife, took her pen and wrote her phone number on the palm of my hand, placed her hand between my legs, squeezed hard, whispered “call me,” in my ear, and then left the party with her husband.

She was married to my boss, for crissake, but after her impetuous act at the Christmas party, I couldn’t get her off my mind. I was unable to discount the erotic feelings that this stunning woman stirred when she grabbed my crotch and squeezed.

I put my better judgment aside and called her. She seemed thrilled to hear from me and suggested that we meet at a cabin in the country that she and her husband owned. She told me to meet her there on a workday, so that her husband — my boss — would be at work.

I called in sick the next day, drove for two hours to the remote cabin, which was a model of rustic simplicity, and was greeted at the door by Janice, who was wearing an incredibly shear and sexy negligee. What transpired for the next six hours was almost indescribable. Before I left the cabin late in the afternoon, I asked Janice when I could see her again. Her answer surprised me.

“Every year for Christmas, my husband and I give ourselves the gift of freedom to have sex with someone else,” Janice explained. “This year, I chose you, and you were an awesome choice. But I love my husband and he loves me, so this incredible assignation we had won’t happen again until next Christmas.”

It’s been almost a year since that remarkable day with Janice at the cabin. I have been eagerly awaiting this year’s company Christmas party so that I could see Janice again and we could arrange for a repeat performance. So you can imagine my chagrin when the company announced that it was going to cancel this year’s Christmas party due to the pandemic. I was devastated.

But then I received a call from Janice. She asked if I’d been tested for COVID. I told her that I had and that it was negative. She said, “Me too. How about if you call in sick tomorrow and meet me at the cabin?”

It’s going to be a Merry Christmas after all!

Written for Paula Light’s Thursday Inspiration prompt, where the theme is “call.” Also for these daily prompts: Word of the Day Challenge (bomb), Your Daily Word Prompt (jolly), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (impetuous), The Daily Spur (discount), Ragtag Daily Prompt (rustic simplicity, and MMA Storytime (cancel).

First Line Friday — Meant to Be

The black dog followed them home. Eric knew this would be trouble. He and his wife, Rhonda, had lost their beloved black shepherd/Lab mix, Shadow, in November and Rhonda had begun talking about getting another dog. But Eric was dead set against it. “Having a dog will tie us down, Ronda,” he argued. “We finally have the freedom now to travel and go where we want for however long we want to go any time we wish to.”

“We’re in the middle of a goddam pandemic,” Rhonda argued back. “They’re ordering us to stay home and leave only when it’s essential. So where is it that you think we’re going to go?”

As they approached their house, Rhonda looked back to see the dog stop and look at her with its sad, brown eyes. She leaned down and motioned for the dog to come forward, which it slowly and cautiously did. “Look, Eric,” she said. “No collar, no tags.” Getting down on her knees, she hugged the dog and the dog rewarded Rhonda by licking her face. “We can’t just leave this sweet dog out here. It’s starting to get dark and it’s supposed to get down into the thirties tonight.”

Eric knew his wife well enough to know that there was no point in arguing. “Fine,” he said, “we’ll bring this mangy mutt in, give it some food and water, and we can take it to the vet tomorrow to have it checked out. But then we have to find out if he’s anybody’s pet dog and, if so, to see if they’re looking for him.”

Rhonda smiled, “It’s a her, Eric, and she looks so much like our Shadow, doesn’t she? It was meant to be, Eric.”

Written for the First Line Friday prompt from Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, where the first line is “The black dog followed them home.”

#writephoto — Is That OZ?

5B1DBCB6-5D3C-471E-A1FA-112BA50D9C17Lizzy stopped and let go of her father’s hand. “No, I’m not going.”

“Lizzy, we have to keep moving, sweetheart,” her father said.

“No,” she insisted. “I saw this before. This is the field that Dorothy, Toto, the tin man, the scarecrow, and the lion went into and they all fell asleep for a long, long time. I’m not going in there.”

“Oh Lizzy, that was make believe,” Her father responded. “Besides, that was a field of red poppies. This is a field of purple heather. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure, Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetie, I’m sure,” he said as he grabbed her hand.

Lizzy pointed toward the hills in the distance. “Is that Oz?” she asked.

“No, honey, it’s freedom,” he answered. “Now let’s hurry before the secret police or the state security forces catch up with us.”

Written for Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo prompt.