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A quote: “You pay a certain penalty for going your own way. A lot of people think you’re nuts, and you’re not as popular with girls as you should be.” ~~ Ray Bradbury
I’ll start with a story …
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I’m waiting again. In the rain again. I pull the collar up on my coat and start to reach for the pocket with my cigarettes.
Oh, wait. I don’t smoke anymore.
He finally arrives, saying nothing as he shakes out a cigarette. I lean in to catch a whiff.
“This is the last,” he says. “I’ve found your sister.”
His eyes glitter as we exchange envelopes – his thin one for my thick. “Happy reunion.” He bows slightly, tipping his hat before going.
I pat my pocket again, feeling the gun where cigarettes used to be.
“Yes”, I think. “Happy reunion.”
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Now, it’s your turn.
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. featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license.
Cameron says: I gave the client the files he paid for and my enhanced senses couldn’t pick up any hired muscle trying to dispose of me as a loose end. Time to get some sleep.
Now I was in a decent enough mood. Saw the two old guys asleep on the ground and I approached them cautiously. I took out some cash and handed it to the guy who saw me.
“Hey. Get off the street. This should last a week.”
As I walked away I heard the guy say “Mortimer, we’re back!” Glad I could boost their spirits a bit.
Navig8r says: “That’s the mayor’s personal security detail. No movie for us tonight” she said as we eyed the line of black suits facing out.
“From the length of the line I’d say Hizzonner is entertaining all his favorite toadies too.”
We turned and started away.
Gazing out the window of a darkened room blocks away, a finger rested on the button of a transmitter. In a blinding flash, the nightmare would be over.
For a while, we dared hope so too as we picked the shards of glass out of our backs. But the evil is always bigger than you think.
Dupin says: It was a dark and stormy night.
It’d be trite if it wasn’t true, and I’d be at that theater if I wasn’t dying.
I was running slightly late and the alley would cut off a few minutes. Except I was stopped. They took my wallet, my watch, my phone. Then they stabbed me. Said I was dressed too nice, too uppity, my color shouldn’t be here.
I crawled out of the alley. I made it this far, trailing my life’s blood as it flowed to the sewer. Would I die here, in sight of my friends, waiting for me?
Quentin Q Quill says: Poor Ms. Nibtard was about to have a nervous breakdown. It was bad enough dealing with Sissy Sue and Mama Boo, but then to ad insult to injury Lil’ potty mouthed Scotty and his MAGA family moved into the school boundries. Ms.Nibtard needed a pep talk from Liberty Justice Black, the school’s principal.
“I just don’t know if I can do this anymore,” sighed poor Ms. Nibtard, her purple dreadlocks looking more disheveled and brighter than usual against her pale, pasty hollowed out face.
“Nibs,” said Ms. Black, You’re one of our best teachers, I know you can do it. Just don’t let those MAGA people get to you.
“But Liberty,” said Ms. Nibtard, “Sissy Sue is dangerous, she has attacked me and has attacked other students as well.”
“Yes, I’m well aware of that, of course,” said Principal Black, “But you know how volatile Mama Boo is. What the district has decided to do is to provide a full time assistant for your room for your protection and the protection of students, but the assistant won’t be directly assigned to Sissy Sue so that Mama Boo wont’ know the assistant is because of Sissy Sue.
“Oh, that’s wonderful news. I feel much better. Thanks so much.”
“The new assistant will start in about a week, You’ll have to be on you own until then,” said Principal Black.
“With this news, I can last another week. I’m so relieved” said Nibs. It even seemed some color was returning to her pale face.
“Oh, by the way, you have a new student who transferred in yesterday”, said Principal Black.”She should be here today.”
“Okay, have a good day”, Nibs responded.
When students were entering her room that morning, Ms. Nibtard did indeed notice she had a new student. She pointed out the new student’s desk to her, where to hang her coat, and all the other important things in the classroom.
At opening circle sharing time, Ms. Nibtard cheerily said, “Children I’m happy to announce we have a new student in our class. Her name is Shelby. Would you like to share something with the class, Shelby.”
“Yes, said Shelby. My name is Shewby but everybody caws me Lil’ Bullet. I have two bwothows and their names is Pisto and Rifo. And my mom and dad is prepos.”
Ms. Nibtard, having no knowledge of the prepper world, asked, “What are prepos Shelby?.”
“I told you my name is Lil’ Bullet,” Shelby screeched.
“Well I’m going to call you Shelby at school. Lil” Bullet is not an appropriate name for school. It might scare some students.”
“My mom and did is wight. Yous just a stupid libtawd. You don’t even know what a prepo is, you hippy spwout eating libtawd.” With that, Shelby/Lil’ Bullet began racing in circles around the room screaming, “Prepos rule,” and “Twump fo mo yeows.” She was soon joined by Sissy Sue and Lil’ Potty Mouth Scotty. The other children cowered in fear. Some were in tears.
Ms. Libtard looked at the lil’ ones on their little sharing time carpet squares and said, “See children,this is what I mean when I try to teach you that Trump is a bad bad man.” Nibs sighed and then thought to herself that she couldn’t wait until the new full time assistant started.
Kate says: Quentin
We are sorry you are so unhappy that even here with our Friday Fiction weekly writing, you must spew hate. Your name calling, snotty multiple blog personalities (of course we know!) have finally crossed the line. We welcome vigorous debate, going toe to toe about events, even a few elbow jabs along the way because we know Politics can be rough. We will not tolerate ANY snide, nasty comments or personal attacks so often rooted in racism and elitism. Please consider this your one and only warning. By the way, your sock puppets, Quentin Q Quill and MargeryTaylorScreams, will no longer be commenting here. Tom can but only by following our rules. If he can’t, his comments will be deleted.
Cameron says: Thank you.
Dupin says: Thanks! His stories were only entertaining in the way a train wreck was…can’t look away and praying there are survivors.
Tom Yesterday says: Hi Kate,
It’s good to hear from you! Poor Marjorie Taylor Scream and Quentin are going to be disappointed that they’e been banned. Well, of course I figured you knew they were the same person. Do you really think I’m that dumb? I wasn’t unhappy writing these parodies that poked fun of both the right and the left. I was really surprised you hadn’t banned me before now. I’m sorry that it appears to be beyond your comprehension that I was poking fun at both the right and left, and the way the right and left poke fun at each other. As for snotty remarks, your writers are quite skilled at snotty, sarcastic, snarky remarks as well as name calling. As my mom would have said, “They can dish it out but they can’t take it in.” It must be quite a view up there on your haughty hypocritical high horse, but at least you finally did the work of an editor. Your writers could really use some instruction and editing because some of the articles are really crappy. Okay, Kate, enjoy your condescending and superior view of things while perched upon your haughty high horse, and please be a real editor. Some of the writing on here is really bad. I won’t be commenting again. It’s apparent you can’t abide much disagreement in your little, low readership echo chamber.
Kate says: Thanks Karen, er, Tom for both understanding and management “advice.” To post again here, lose the new sock puppet last name.
random observer says: I find in recent years that the cognitive/perceptual dissonance level across political lines is almost insurmountable. Time and again, as here, I see someone posting something over and over again of truly fantastic sarcasm, viciousness or just plain incoherence, & then sincerely claiming to be well within what they perceive as the norm for the site, or some larger related context.
As the case here, I can never quite get it. I only discovered this site last year, but I haven’t seen anything else on it, whether from blog authors or commenters, remotely as snarky or incoherent as those spam comments that always seem to appear on the fiction page.
I had similar thoughts when all the usual folks calling for kindness & civility & love went all in on the late Rush Limbaugh. I hadn’t myself heard much of him in over 20 years- I wasn’t a follower and he seemed to have more profile in Canada back in the 90s when he was arguably at his peak of popularity- but I don’t remember him as a paragon of hatred and anger.
He was sarcastic in a pop-blowhard sort of way, which is to say far less sarcastic or cutting than a modern late night host, all of whom well beloved thought leaders to some, but nothing worse. Yet some folks remember him as pure venom. Go figure. There’s just less and less held in common, even at the level of everyday perception.
John Cougar Mellencamp’s “Minutes to Memories” was playing on the radio. How that song took Ken Redmond back to his high school days.
As he heard the line about going one’s own way and paying the price, Ken reflected on what his younger self might think of the path his life had taken. Sure, he could’ve gotten into flight training if he’d called in his connections — being a clone of the First Man on the Moon had its perks. But how much respect would he have gotten if it ever got out? Instead, he’d spent the Energy Wars doing engineering support at one or another airbase, and just as the Air Force was going back into peacetime mode, NASA had offered him a job in their engineering department, which had ultimately gotten him up here to Shepardsport, not as a pilot, but as head of the Engineering department.
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