#writephoto — The Scarecrow, the Witch, and the Wizard

D3D2201B-77FD-47C4-AE2E-A2346009A9F9During the occasion of a full wolf moon, the scarecrow, the witch, and the wizard went out together for a late evening stroll, as the trio was wont to do on nights such as this. After several hours of walking and talking, the wizard mention that he had developed quite a thirst. The witch said that she remembered passing a tavern on the outskirts of town shortly after they began their stroll.

“Ah yes,” the scarecrow said. “I distinctly recall that place because there was a tall sign just outside of the tavern that contained within it a scarecrow’s hat. But despite the fact that the tavern is home to scarecrows, I’d be delighted if the two of you would join me there as my guests.

“I beg to differ with you, Scarecrow,” the witch said. That tavern is obviously home to a coven of witches, since the hat in the sign is clearly a witch’s hat. But despite that fact, it would be my honor to invite the two of you to join me there tonight.”

“Hold on just a second, my friends,” the wizard said. There is no question but that the hat inside the sign is that of a wizard. Be that as it may,” he continued, “I would be happy to serve as host to the two of you in that establishment.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, either of you,” the scarecrow said. “Anyone can plainly see that it’s a scarecrow’s hat.”

“Don’t be daft, Scarecrow,” the witch responded. “The hat a witch’s hat.”

“It is neither a scarecrow’s nor a witch’s hat,” the wizard interrupted. “It is, without a doubt, a wizard’s hat.

“There is only one way to find out for sure,” the scarecrow said. “We shall, the three of us, head over to the tavern, walk right in, and you’ll see soon enough that I was right. It’s a pub for scarecrows.”

“It is not,” said the witch and the wizard simultaneously. Each determined to prove the other two wrong, the companions locked arms and marched straight to the tavern. Upon reaching the tavern, they looked at the sign.

“See,” the scarecrow said. “A scarecrow’s hat.”

“See,” the witch said. “A witch’s hat.”

“See,” the wizard said. “A wizard’s hat.”

Once again, the three locked arms and, together, squeezed through the tavern doors and stepped inside.

All eyes of the patrons inside the tavern gazed upon the three who had just entered. There was dead silence as those already there and the three newcomers sized each other up. A tension filled the room and the atmosphere grew heavy.

There were no scarecrows, witches, or wizards among the patrons in the tavern. Instead, the customers were farmers and farmhands.

The awkward silence of the moment was finally broken when the bartender cheerfully called out from behind the bar. “Welcome to Ye Old Farmer’s Hat Tavern, folks,” he said. “Find any empty table and I’ll be right there to take your orders.”


Written for the Thursday Photo Prompt from Sue Vincent.

And The Rest Is History

Red Sox Cap I wondered into the retail shop just to kill some time until my buddy was supposed to meet me. “Can I help you,” she said. She was quite stunning and I was at a loss for words. I looked around the sports store and saw the tent department and pointed to it. “You’re interested in a tent?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “A tent.”

“What size?” she asked.

“Um, seven and a half,” I said.

“That sounds more like a hat size than a tent size,” she said, a knowing smile lighting up her face. “What kind of hat are you interested in?” she asked.

“A, um, baseball hat,” I answered.

“Our baseball caps are over there,” she said, pointing to the other side of the store. “Would you like me to show you?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I’d like that very much.”

She grabbed my hand and led me to the area where the baseball caps were on display. “What’s your favorite team?” she asked.

“The Red Sox” I said.

She reached over and grabbed a Red Sox cap from the rack and put it on my head. Then she put her hands on both of my shoulders, leaned in close, and whispered in my ear, “Mine, too.”


Written for Teresa’s Three Things Challenge, where the three things are tent, retail shop, and hat.

Meet Him at the Café

DED35613-5BB7-47FB-90A3-3B5CA93B7D95“Your brother called,” my wife told me. “He asked me to tell you that he wants you to meet him at the café for breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“Oh jeez, did he say what he wanted?” I asked her, knowing full well that he didn’t.

“No, he didn’t, but he did say it’s important,” she said.

“With him, he says everything is important. He’s probably gonna try to hit me up for money again,” I said.

“Don’t you dare,” she said.

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” I said. “And I’ll tell you what,” I added, “if he’s wearing that goddam MAGA hat of his, I’m turning around and walking away.”


Written for Teresa’s Three Things Challenge, where the three things are brother, cafe, and  hat.