SoCS — A Means to an End

20C6073F-F930-4AEA-9243-02C86A0F48B2“It’s just a means to an end, that’s all,” Ed said aloud, but more to himself than to his wife, who was sitting next to him on the sofa.

“You always use that expression and I don’t really know what you mean,” Karen responded.

“What are you, stupid or something?” Ed lashed out.

Tears began to form in Karen’s eyes. “Why do you have to say mean things like that, Ed?”

“You’re right,” Ed said softly. “I’m sorry, babe. That was a mean thing for me to say.”

“Thanks, I accept your apology,” Karen said. “Now tell me, what does a means to an end mean?”

“It means it’s something you do only to produce or achieve a desired result,” Ed explained. “It’s like when you have to work at a job you hate, but you have to do it in order to put food on the table. The job is the means and the end is that you have enough to eat.”

“Okay, I understand that, but what were you referring to just now when you said it?”

Ed sighed. “Sometimes, Karen, you gotta do what you gotta do and the end justifies the means.”

“So does that mean that a positive outcome excuses or justifies any wrongs committed in order to attain it?” Karen asked, as a concerned expression appeared on her face.

“Don’t worry, babe,” Ed said. “I’m not planning to do anything unethical, immoral, or technically illegal.”

“Then what is this means you are talking about,” Karen asked, “and to what end.”

“Well, babe, it was going to be a surprise,” Ed said, “but since you can’t seem to let this go, I’ll tell you.”

“Tell me what, Ed?”

Ed leaned in close to Karen and whispered in her ear.

Karen jumped back. “Oh my God, Ed, no!”


Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt. We are asked to use the word “mean(s)” with or without the “s,” any way we’d like.

#FOWC — An Abundance of Loyalty

6693F921-D4B5-4126-9041-FC5229E741C4Ron and Mary sat on the rug in front of the fireplace enjoying their glasses of wine and feeling toasty in front of the abundant flames that warmed the entire room.

“The one attribute I admire most in people is being loyal,” Ron  said. “That’s why I admire Donald Trump. Loyalty is very important to him.”

“Are you crazy?” Mary said. “That man is one of the most mean-spirited human being ever to occupy the Oval Office.”

“Do you really mean that?” Ron asked.

“Yes, I mean that!” Mary said emphatically. “Loyalty is more important to that man than qualifications or competence.”

“That’s a mean thing to say.” Ron said.

“Open your eyes, Ron,” Mary said. “As far as presidents go, he’s well below the mean.”

“I think he’s way above average,” Ron said.

“You’re an idiot,” Mary said, putting down her wine and heading toward the bedroom. “I guess it’s true that Donald Trump is breaking up families.”


Written for today’s Three Things Challenge from Teresa. The three things are admire, loyal, and fireplace. Also for today’s Word of the Day Challenge, “abundant.” And, of course, for Fandango’s One-Word Challenge, “mean.”

FOWC with Fandango — Mean

FOWCWelcome to July 11, 2018 and to Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (aka, FOWC). It’s designed to fill the void after WordPress bailed on its daily one-word prompt.

I will be posting each day’s word just after midnight Pacific Time (US).

Today’s word is “mean.”

Write a post using that word. It can be prose, poetry, fiction, non-fiction. It can be any length. It can be just a picture or a drawing if you want. No holds barred, so to speak.

Once you are done, tag your post with #FOWC and create a pingback to this post if you are on WordPress. Or you can simply include a link to your post in the comments.

And be sure to read the posts of other bloggers who respond to this prompt. You will marvel at their creativity.

Sunday Photo Fiction — Mean and Inconsiderate

723932EE-D420-4715-8A6E-0D5A0FA1A04FIt was, perhaps, the meanest act I’d ever committed. Certainly the most inconsiderate. But I was only ten-years-old, so what did I know?

My father loved to build miniature settings. He had constructed an elaborate village around his HO scale train set in our attic. It included a train station, post office, church, store, and a few homes. There were painted roads with small cars and trucks and tiny little people. It was fully landscaped with trees and shrubs, hills, and a creek. A true work of art.

For Christmas one year, he decided to build a little fairy village on our patio for my younger sister. He constructed it from twigs, straw, branches, and stones. He built a tiny church, shed, fire pit, table, and bench. It was exquisite.

He finished it just in time for Christmas and, when Christmas morning arrived, my sister and I eagerly opened our presents. My favorite was a 20-inch tall Godzilla monster doll.

Dad escorted us out to our back patio and unveiled the fairy village. My sister squealed in delight. I, with Godzilla in hand, proceeded to destroy the tiny village by stomping all around, making horrible monster noises, just like the movie.

(202 words)


Written for this week’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt. Image credit: Eric Wiklund.