A Month of Love #6

Paula Light says, “Let’s celebrate the month of lurve (aka love) by posting one thing we love every day throughout February.

Now the truth is that I’m not really a romantic guy, so I might be hard pressed to come up with 28 objects of love, but I think I should be able to come up with 28 things I like a lot.

In May of last year I became a first time grandfather and I love being able to spend time with my grandson. Unfortunately, due to the pandemic, I usually get to spend only a few hours of face-to-face time a week with him. Still, those few hours are precious.

Friday Fictioneers — Outta Sight

“I will not have it,” Margaret insisted, “I’m embarrassed to have anyone come into our apartment. I know you’ve been working from home since this whole pandemic thing started, but you’ve got your crap spread out all over the dining room table and it’s ridiculous that we can’t use it for meals. I will not tolerate your mess anymore. I’ve organized all of your office supplies and put them inside the credenza. You can keep your laptop on the end of the table, but you need to keep your work area neat.”

Bill hugged Margaret and simply said, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

(100 words)

Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Field’s Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo credit: Jan Wayne Fields.

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.”

Grape Wine Versus Apple Cider

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, as you sit in this courtroom on this sad and overcast day, you must certainly see that all of the evidence points to the fact that this defendant,” the prosecutor said, pointing toward the hapless man sitting at the defendant’s table, “has demonstrated a voracious appetite for wassail.”

“Let me point out to you that wassail, if you’re unfamiliar with it, is a beverage of hot mulled cider made from apples. Apples, ladies and gentlemen, not from grapes. Wassail is traditionally drunk as an integral part of wassailing, a medieval Christmastime English drinking ritual intended to ensure a good cider apple harvest the following year,” he added.

“Let me also remind you that we no longer live in medieval times. These are modern, 21st century times. And we don’t live in England. We live in the Napa Valley region, which is the heart of California’s wine county. Our local harvest is grapes, not apples.

“And while it is, indeed, getting close to Christmastime, you must remember that this has been a devastating year for our local wine industry. The pandemic has significantly the curtailed demand for our fine wines because most of the restaurants that serve our wines have been closed since March. And the horrific wildfires of this past summer destroyed so many of our local wineries.”

The prosecutor paused so his words would sink in on the members of the jury. “It with no whimsy, ladies and gentlemen, that I implore you to find this defendant guilty of promoting the consumption of apple cider over the consumption of grape wine. This is an act of egregious disloyalty to our local economy and it’s your job to right this wrong and to rectify this injustice.”

The prosecutor made eye contact with each and every juror. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” he said, “I rest my case. Now do your job.”

Written for these daily prompts: MMA Storytime (overcast), The Daily Spur (evidence,) Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (voracious), Word of the Day Challenge (wassail), Ragtag Daily Prompt (wine), and Your Daily Word Prompt (whimsy).

#100WW — The Annual Halloween Picnic

“I promise to get it done,” Bonnie said.

“You didn’t get the word out, yet?” Laurie said. “Halloween is just three days away. You said you’d disseminate the info to everyone that the picnic at the park this year is canceled due to the pandemic.”

“This whole virus thing is chilling to me,” Bonnie said. “So many sick, so many dying.”

“Well, it’s probably just as well, “Laurie said. “Everyone gets drunk and causes quite a fracas at this event, anyway.”

“Maybe this nightmare will end soon and we can return to our jocular selves again,” Bonnie said.

“Yeah, right.”

(100 words)

Written for Bikurgurl’s 100 Word Wednesday prompt. Photo credit: Bikurgurl. Also for these daily prompts: The Daily Spur (promise), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (disseminate), Word of the Day Challenge (chilling), Ragtag Daily Prompt (fracas), and Your Daily Word Prompt (jocular).