“Andy, can you give me a hand with these bags” Sara called out to her son when she got home .
“Jeez, Mom,” Andy said, “did you buy out the whole grocery store?”
“No,” Sara said. “You know I invited my boss, Mr. Kim, and wife for dinner tonight. So I went to the Asian market and got stuff to prepare an authentic Korean dinner for us all.”
“Do you know how to cook Korean meals?”
“I’ll just toss a bunch of this stuff into chicken broth and heat it up.”
“No, Mom, I’m calling Mr. Kwon at Jong Ga’s for delivery.”
Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo credit: Brenda Cox.
Two years ago we had to curtail indoor seating for our customers due to the pandemic.
Then my wife had a brilliant idea. “Petition the city to allow us to set up a parklet so we can offer outdoor dining.”
Guess what? The city gave us a permit.
I constructed a parklet. A table and stools on a platform that extended around four feet into the street.
But the pandemic continued and no paying customers showed up. Only homeless druggies and drunks.
My parklet sits empty now, covered in graffiti.
It seem like a good idea at the time, though.
Written for the Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Roger Bultot.
“You know they drive on the wrong side of the road over here, don’t you?” my wife asked.
“I know that,” I snapped. “I’m not stupid.”
“And you feel comfortable driving on the wrong side of the road?” she asked.
“I’m not an idiot,” I said. “I can handle it.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to hire a driver to take us to the Castle?”
“Dammit, woman, I said I can handle it. Now get in the goddam rental car.”
“Okay, but if you’re driving, why are you getting into the passenger side?” she asked.
“Fine. You drive.”
Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo credit: Sandra Crook.
“Excuse me,” the old man standing at the door of the second hand shop said to the sales clerk inside the store. “Have you seen my granddaughter?”
“What’s her name?” the woman asked.
“Isabel,” he said, “but she goes by Izzy. She works at a place that sells second hand goods.”
“I’m sorry,” the woman said, “no one by that name works here. Maybe she works at the Goodwill store about three blocks east of here.”
“Right,” the old man said. “She did mention Goodwill, but I thought she was talking about a guy named Will who worked with her.”
Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo credit: John Nixon.
“This is shocking,” Janice said.
“Actually,” Sharon said, “it’s typical of him.
“He never did have a good sense of timing,” William added.
“That’s an understatement,” Janice said. “Everything he said or did was at the wrong time and the wrong place.”
“So we shouldn’t be at all surprised that her ex-husband, and our estranged father, would send a bouquet of flowers and a “Get Well Soon” helium balloon on the day of Mom’s funeral,” Sharon said.
“Once an ass, always and ass,” William said.
“I still think it’s shocking,” Janice said.
“And I still think it’s typical,” Sharon said.
Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo credit: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.