Three Word Wednesday - "Service, Opportunity, Quarrel" & 55 Flash Fiction Friday - 4/29/09

Once again, I have combined today's prompts of "service, opportunity, and quarrel" from 3 Word Wednesday with the constraints of using only 55 words from 55 Flash Fiction Friday. Those prompts led immediately to this thought.

They had just had another, alcohol induced, quarrel. He retired to the couch and she flew solo in the king-sized bed. A foreboding thought flashed into his mind as he gazed longingly at his service revolver. He had investigated enough cases to know he could never get away with it. Opportunity, means, motive. The trifecta.

3 Word Wednesday - "Deceit, Indulge, Oath" & 55 Flash Fiction Friday - 4/22/09

I have combined today's prompts of "deceit, indulge, and oath" from 3 Word Wednesday with the constraints of using only 55 words from 55 Flash Fiction Friday. This is the first thing that came to mind.

He had taken an oath…....”until death do us part.” That was nearly fifty years ago. Who knew she would live this long? That he would? They had both outlived passion and attraction. He considered indulging in an illicit tryst, but he didn’t have the energy for the dalliance, or the memory for the deceit.

55 Flash Fiction Friday - "Bang" - 4/17/09

The challenge from G-Man at 55 Flash Fiction Friday is to write a story using exactly 55 words.

It was heavier than it looked. He could hear his brother, Jerry, coming down the hall towards his parent’s bedroom. He pointed at the doorway and said “bang,” but the noise did not sound like bang at all. He would never forget the two simultaneous explosions. One in his hand, the second was Jerry’s head.

My grandson Carson - Carrying the Wainright Mantle - 4/13/09

The vast majority of people that share my family name spell it Wainwright. My clan does not include the second ”W". I have been told by a reliable source that the second "W" indicates wholesale inbreeding. I get annoyed when people insert it automatically. Even when I spell it out carefully to them, they throw in that infernal “W’. My name has been misspelled so often that I am certain I have an AKA on file with the authorities. I recently noticed that my mother’s name is spelled wrong on her death certificate. You would have thought they could have taken the time to get that right.
I tell you that to tell you this. There is only one person charged with continuing my particular Wainright family line. I have a half-brother, Chris Wainright, who has only daughters. My oldest son, Rick, has only daughters. My other son, Josh, has no children, though he desperately wanted kids. But the more he and his wife, Tia, are subjected to children of friends and family, the less desperate they are to procreate. That leaves my grandson Carson, the son of my daughter Carly, with the awesome responsibility of insuring a Wainright branch on our family tree. I remain optimistic. What do you think? Should I bring my swimmers out of retirement?

Wordless Wednesday - Splash Mountain - 4/8/09

My grandson, Carson, reevaluating his decision to go on Splash Mountain.

Sunday Scribblings - Celebrate - 4/4/09

I didn't think there was going to be a Sunday Scribbling this week so I didn't write anything but when I saw the prompt was Celebrate I was reminded of a video clip I saw recently. You can see it here. Wouldn't sports be a lot more fun if this type of celebration was embraced? In golf, most players are boring, emotionless, robots. About the only player who shows any emotion is Tiger Woods and he is sometimes criticized for it. More people would tune in if the could expect him to respond to a made putt in this manner. I don't like, or understand chess, but I would watch chess masters play if there was any chance of the victor providing post-match entertainment. I actually react in a similar manner when I beat my daughter at Cribbage.

55 Flash Fiction Friday - 4/2/09

I have been labeled lately by my 55 Flash Fiction Friday readers as the Prince of Poignant and Pathos, so I thought I had better change it up this week.

At the mall in front of Starbucks
Sipping six dollar brew
A fragrance wafted by
It was Estee Lauder Youth Dew
It stirred both a pleasant rousing in his fruit of the looms
And the memory of 40-year-old heartache
As his mind recalled this very scent on her young skin
He couldn’t help but smile