FFfPP — Stay Away From Spicy Foods

E9C58511-94C4-40ED-8DA9-57ECD141D1ECIt was pure happenstance that Tina had just left a class in emergency first aid when she encountered a man on the sidewalk outside of a restaurant who appeared to be having a heart attack. A crowd of people had gathered around him. Normally an aloof and indifferent person who hated to have an audience, Tina sprung into action. There was no time to evaluate, just to act.

She told one bystander to call 9-1-1. As she started the chest depressions, she saw a young woman who was in tears and was a basket case. Tina looked up at her. “What’s your name, honey? Can you tell me what happened to him?”

“I’m Dana and he’s my father,” the young woman said. “He knows he’s supposed to stay away from spicy foods, but he’s such a stubborn old coot and never listens.”

“Dana, I think I’ve got him stabilized. The EMTs are on their way and will transport your dad to the hospital,” Jenny said. “You should notify his primary care physician.”

“Thank you so much,” Dana said. “You saved his life. How can I ever repay you?”

“Just keep your dad away from spicy foods.”

(196 words)

Written for this week’s Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner from Roger Shipp. Photo credit: Gaborfromhungary at Morguefile.com.

Also for these daily prompts: Ragtag Daily Prompt (happenstance), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (aloof), The Daily Spur (audience), Weekly Prompts (evaluate), Daily Addictions (basket), Word of the Day Challenge (spicy), and Your Daily Word Prompt (notify).

Friday Fictioneers — Tacky, Campy, and Kitschy

319AF249-8523-4678-906F-1CFBAC0F8B58“Tacky,” Adele said as she looked around and offered her unsolicited opinion about the restaurant’s decor. “What is that monstrosity on the wall? A papier-mâché orca? Really, Gladys, why would you even suggest a place like this for our weekly lunch?”

“Oh Adele, don’t be such a snob,” Gladys said. “I think it’s kind of campy.”

“I sort of agree with Adele,” Arlene said. “The decor does seem kind of kitschy.”

“Campy? Kitschy? Seriously, you two are just being bitchy,” Gladys said. “This is a restaurant, not a gallery. We came here to eat, so shut up and let’s order.”

(100 words)

Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Dale Roberson.

Split Pea Soup

46b5b051-4f24-4e1e-b800-bc99878c2cd3“Mom, I am so upset,” Elaine said. “I just checked on Yelp and my favorite neighborhood restaurant went out of business.”

“Oh, honey,” her mother said, “no wonder you’re looking so forlorn. But you know, sweetheart, this part of town is in transition and a lot of those hipsters are buying up a lot of properties and are taking over the neighborhood, so some of the older, established businesses can’t afford the higher rents and are taking flight.”

“I know that, Mom,” Elaine said, “but that place was so adorable and it had the greatest split pea soup in the city, next to your homemade split pea soup, of course.”

“Elaine, I have a great idea,” her mother said. “I got a circular yesterday from the farmer’s market. They’re having a special on dried split peasHow about we head over there, pick some up, and I’ll whip up a kettle of my world famous split pea soup for you. Would that make you feel a little better?”

“You’re the best, Mom,” Elaine said, giving her mom a big hug.

Written for these daily prompts: Word of the Day (yelp), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (forlorn), Ragtag Daily Prompt (flight), Your Daily Word Prompt (adorable), Daily Addictions (circular), and Swimmers (peas).

JusJoJan — Serendipity

For today’s Just Jot It January prompt from Linda G. Hill, Jill from J-Dubs Grin and Bear It, suggested the word “serendipity.”

Serendipity, according to Dictionary.com, means “the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.”

I like to think that my being set up on a blind date with the woman who eventually became my wife was a serendipitous occurrence.

But when I think of the word “serendipity,” two things come to mind. One is the blog by that name published my Marilyn Armstrong.7506a8d2-71dd-4ac9-ac27-37e42a591913You should check out her blog if you’re not already one of her more than 11,000 followers.

The other “serendipity” I think of is the restaurant in New York City’s Upper East Side, Serendipity 3.86517c4d-c4c9-4914-b717-c0234b1c9f47The menu at this nearly 70-year-old American restaurant includes burgers, footlong hotdogs, thick-cut fries, country meat loaf, four different pastas, and chicken pot pie. But desserts are the real draw, including Serendipity’s famous frozen hot chocolate and its outsized sundaes.4f2acea7-2a82-4aee-b10c-f2acd270507eI’ve only been there a few times, but whenever I went to NYC, which is rare these days since I live in San Francisco now, I made a point of stopping by for dessert at Serendipity 3.

FFfPP — On the Outside Looking In

img_2136Henry pressed his face up against the restaurant’s window. He put his hands up next to his eyes to get a better view of what was inside. He marveled at the bright, white tablecloths and the artistically folded napkins.

Each table was neatly lined up, a beautifully framed piece of artwork gracing each setting. He felt and heard the growling of his stomach. How long had it been since he’d eaten at such a place, Henry wondered. Hell, how long had it been since he’d had a decent meal?

Henry remembered the heady days when he was making money hand over fist as a commodities trader. He could afford to go to fancy restaurants like this. He’d bring prospective clients to such places to impress them. This memory brought a melancholy smile to Henry’s face.

If only he hadn’t put his money in that Ponzi scheme. He lost everything. All his money, all his clients, his family, his reputation. He avoided jail time by agreeing to flip on the crook who masterminded the fraud.

The restaurant door opened. The owner invited Henry to come in and have a meal before the restaurant opened for business.

Henry actually started to cry.

(200 words)

Written for this week’s Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practictioner from Roger Shipp. Photo credit: MorgueFile May 2018 1400068700w0086.