Betsy Oslund Harmon offers our next story…
Lizzy and Patsy left for college with matching Louis Vuitton luggage.
Their future was limitless…
…until their sophomore year, when Lizzy said, “Oh, God. I think I understand the Theory of Relativity. No… Wait… It’s gone.”
Thank goodness they met some cute MBA’s and got married on the beach […]
Mort Ginsberg has another for us…
“So, Vito, what do you think of my new pad?”
“It’s big and clean. I like it. But personally, I like my own spaghetti. I know Gina prefers it, too.”
“Hey, Gina,” called Jerry from the laundry room, “I must be going nuts. I swear I just […]
And another from Brian Behr Valentine. Double point to him for using exactly 55 words in each of his stories!
“So, he’d been taken away twice before?”
“He ate ants, I tell you! He wouldn’t never do right!”
“Twice?”
“Yes, taken twiced, but I weren’t drunk this time! He ate ants and I was afraid fur him!”
“Please […]
Continuing our block of reader submissions, let’s introduce Brian Behr Valentine. Here is the first of two from Brian.
“The guy in the car wreck died under the knife!”
“Was he drunk?”
“Yes!”
“How drunk?”
“To drunk to operate…”
“Shhhh! Quiet! Step over here. It’s none of our business really!”
“It is to!”
“We’re just nurses!”
“I am going up front […]
Last story today comes from Artie Knapp.
“Look who decided to wake up!”
After Punxsutawney Phil poked his head out of his hole, the Punxsutawney Salvation Army Band erupted in song.
“What? I see my shadow; there will be six more weeks of winter. What’s the big deal?”
“Phil, today’s the second day of August; you overslept by […]
Next up today, Joe Nobiss.
At a quiet outdoor café in a small town along the Amalfi coast, I sat with my eyes closed daydreaming of the sea, letting the sun warm me, while I slowly spun a tiny pitcher of milk used for my coffee.
I feel guilty my last words to her were, “honey, were […]
The Mort Ginsburg machine keeps on rolling!
Mass: “Why me, Lord,” prayed Olivia, tears streaming down her cheeks, clasped hands trembling and her knees feeling as if they were on broken glass. “Mass,” Dr. Flynn had said yesterday. “Sorry, Olivia but it’s inoperable.”
Mass: requiescat en pacem
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Next up today… Lisa!
“I’m going to be late,” her voice caked with sleep.
He nuzzled his face into hers, his scruff tickling her cheek. She tried to sit up, but his grip around her tightened as he pulled her back into himself.
“I won’t have time to shower,” her insistence waning.
Oh well…there are worse things.
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We’ve got the flu running around the house here and a backlog of reader submissions, so here’s what I’m gonna do. It’s Double-Bonus Week! Reader submissions today and tomorrow. First up: Sandra Guenther. Enjoy!
It’s my decision. Should I continue or stop right here and end it my own way. No one would ever know. It […]
My old key opened the front door, and instinct guided me to the drawing room. Twenty years on, the stench of alcohol lingered. I could still taste dad’s mocking breath.
Approaching the aged leather wingback from behind, I raised the pistol. The lowball shattered on the floor, scotch and blood dancing on the Persian carpet.
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