Author: R.

Swindle

When I was little, my parents compiled a baby book.
It had photographs and report cards and vaccination records.
And some Bank of Israel bonds from a rich uncle that would mature when it was time for college.
Both were for ten dollars.
Two pizzas on a weekend. Gee, thanks.
But the page with the gift list mentioned three bonds, not two.
So, I dug around the closet and found the third one.
It was for a hundred thousand dollars.
My parents had tried to swindle it.
So, I swindled it back
And it paid for a lot of pizza.

Free lunches

I worked at a place that offered free lunches, free snacks, a free gym, and free power charging for electric cars.
Oh, and free cheap cell phones.
They didn’t pay great, but with these perks, they added enough to the compensation to make it worth staying.
When the pandemic hit, they didn’t offer a lunch stipend, sent out three small boxes of snacks over two years, and that’s it.
People who asked about the perks were made to feel like shit by management, so they left.
They tossed their free cheap cell phones into the gym.
And went to lunch.

Weekly Challenge #1020 – Gift

The next topic is Poetry

LISA

Christmas
Christmas was always the same at Mums. Everyone stayed over except Auntie Lizzie because she had to get back for her dog. She gave the best gifts but apologised saying she hadn’t got out to buy anything this year so, it was a shock when she handed me a present. It was a pricey looking necklace.
“They’re real. Not paste.”
Excited by this my brother unwrapped his even larger parcel. It was heavy and had a bit of a smell. He said nothing but showed us her dog.
I was dying to say: ‘at least you can stay over now.’

RICHARD

Ho, ho, humbug!
I hate Christmas gift shopping.
It’s not that I don’t enjoy choosing and giving gifts, it’s all the hassle that comes with it, and I’m not the most organised of people.
I have friends who buy presents throughout the year, wrap and label them as they go along, and when December comes around, all the hard work is done.
Not me though.
I used to leave it to the last minute, and it was always a nightmare.
Thankfully, I don’t usually see family and friends until after Christmas, so now I buy most of my gifts in the January sales!

SERENDIPIDY

I grew up in a very annoying family.
All my siblings could have been described as gifted. Between them, they excelled at sports, the arts and academically.
Unlike me.
You’d never describe me as sporty, I can’t paint, write, sing, act or play music and I dropped out of school, failing every exam I took.
I suppose you could say that, for me, it was an unhappy childhood: watching my brothers and sisters succeed and flourish, whilst I floundered.
They’re not succeeding now however.
Not since I poisoned them all.
I guess my cooking skills weren’t up to much either!

TOM

Tis Da Season
I don’t go Christmas gifts. My family and every close friend is a good
1000 miles away. I do have one person who I do un-Christmas gift with.
Each year we head down to the local Walmart. Pick out a functional but
not so fashionable leather wallet. You do this four decades you end up
will a draw filled with wallets. Not bum you all out, but that friend
die a few years back, so now truly I don’t do Christmas gift. I must
admit look in the draw of wallet is a bit of gift when the snow falls

NORVAL JOE

The old man snarled at Billbert. “You’ve gifted the Five Star Sisters a reprieve, but it won’t last very long.”

The door slammed open. Mrs. Weinerheimer charged in, shouting, “Gift is a noun. Not a verb.”

His mother’s superpower of efficiency was more than the Black Knights control over Billbert and Sabrina could handle.

As the tsunami dissipated to nothing, a tornado formed over the dilapidated cabin and ripped the feeble roof away.

Mandy and Mrs. Weinerheimer rushed to Billbert while Bobbi grabbed Patrick’s arm.

The tornado shrank, wrapped its tail around the Black Knight leader and whisked him away.

PLANET Z

Sometimes I like to buy things on Amazon for myself, get them gift wrapped, turn off notifications, and get blackout drunk. I don’t remember that I bought the things, and when they arrive I’m pleasantly surprised. Then I read the notes, and they’re horribly disturbing… downright creepy. How the Hell did they know this about me? Are they spying on me? Are they stalking me? Then I see the credit card statement and wonder if they hacked my account and stole my credit card. I call the card company to cancel my card and I change all of my passwords.

Nails

You know, I used to bite my nails.
Don’t remember a time when I didn’t.
Therapists told me that it was a form of self destruction.
I said the suicide attempts were more important signs of that.
I stopped biting my nails after Piper died.
For some reason, promising a cat that I’d stop biting my nails worked.
Aside from a rare pruning when I don’t have a kit nearby, every few months or so, I’ve stopped.
Of course, the cat’s death provoked the last suicide attempt, but the gun jammed.
Probably on a fingernail clipping, knowing how karma works.

Whitney

When Bobby Brown died, he went to Hell.
No waiting in line for Bobby.
A bodyguard at the gates with a clipboard, unclipping a velvet rope gate and saying “This way, sir.”
A line of gorgeous women waited for him. With baseball bats.
Bobby staggered along the line, suffering blow after blow, feeling bones crack, skin split, muscles tear, and blood flow and spurt and ooze.
And at the end of the line, Whitney watched. And waited.
At first, she enjoyed the spectacle. She knew Bobby was suffering.
But she wanted her chance at revenge.
Waiting. Waiting.
And suffering, too.

Sad thing

It’s a sad thing when you have to bury your own child.
The last time, I got a sore back, using a shovel in the back yard.
So, that’s why I called around and the neighborhood showed up with shovels.
One guy got a backhoe from a nearby road construction crew.
That was nice of him.
We made a block party out of it.
With lemonade and cookies and music and a volleyball net.
Everyone had a blast.
“Same time next week?” I asked.
The crowd cheered, and I patted the dirt down.
And called the foster agency for another.

The job i suppose

I have a good job.
With a corner office on the top floor.
And a good parking space to charge my car.
Good perks: free lunches, fully-stocked breakroom with tea and snacks.
I can work from home when I need to.
But why would I want to?
Well, with the pandemic, I need to.
I still have my job.
But I work from my living room, not my nice corner office.
I don’t drive my car to that spot with the charger.
And any lunch or tea or snacks are bought on my own.
That’s okay for now, I suppose.

Collaborate

Every day, we have a team meeting.
And when we go around the table… well, go around the list, since we’re not at the same table while we work remotely… we say what we did yesterday, what we’ll do today, and what blockers we have that need resolving.
Then we leave our microphones on all day while working on whatever we’re working on, saying something if we need assistance or want to demonstrate something.
Repeat until it’s time to go home… well… we’re already home, so shut off the laptops and fire up the war games.
When we truly collaborate.

Fire your doctor

I fired my doctor and made an appointment with a nearby clinic with testing and other departments that will be a lot more convenient for referrals.
A year since my last checkup is way too long, especially with the cholesterol meds running out of refills.
And weight gain. And other things.
I should walk more. And eat less.
I don’t drink, in spite of what my former doctor thought.
People lie about that kind of thing.
But when beer and liquor cause kidney stones, you stop.
Trust me on this.
Or don’t. But if you’re my doctor, well, you’re fired.

Weekly Challenge #1019 – Assistive technology

The next topic is Gift

LISA

Cynthia’s had a Fall
It’s a tale as old as time: we were discussing the idea of assistive technology. Well, we mentioned things, they were refused. Luckily, Cynthia’s house already had rails and ramps but the idea of wearing a medical assistance necklace was dead in the water.
She really didn’t want a daily phone-call either, once a week on Friday was all she’d agree to.
Cynthia fell again on Tuesday. She didn’t answer Friday’s call so we went over. There was smeared blood, as if she’d been dragged, across the carpet and Aunty Cynthia, dead, an arm stretch away from the pendant alarm.

RICHARD

Help!
Gotta love assistive technology!
I’ve ditched clunky, outdated and labour-intensive interfaces with my computer, in favour of technological solutions.
I replaced my keyboard and mouse with speech recognition, and I don’t even turn my monitor on, since my screen reader takes care of that.
My Roomba does the carpets and the robot mower cuts the grass.
Alexa takes care of boiling the kettle, ordering my groceries and controlling the heating.
All I have to do is sit here.
Even my chair helps me to my feet.
Then I fall down, unable to get up, thanks to my atrophied muscles!

TOM

old

When you reach a curtain age in life one needs a bit of Assistive
Technology to get through the day. Take the Randick Pecker Electrostatic
360. A marvel of modern know-how. 11 setting (max level may cause death,
see your doctor if you stop breathing) And there are lot of add-on
packages for your package. The rainbow led array, the quadrophic micro
speaker sub-woffers. There the AC-DC switch hitters add-on, the solo
master unit. Powered by harmless hydro cells (do not store in a dark
place for over a month, call 911 in the event of a fire). Use responsively.

TURA

Assistive technology
———
All technology is assistive— that’s what it’s for. But everything that assists you weakens you. Writing destroyed memory. Keyboards destroyed handwriting. Central heating, hot showers, and soft beds destroy resilience. Abundant food destroys health. Prosperity destroys reproduction. Instant communication foments strife. Peace flows inexorably into war.

Teaching prevents learning, answers prevent thought, advice saps initiative, ease destroys character.

And AI, the everything box, will destroy everything.

For this is the iron law of success: that every success contains the seeds of its failure. The easier we make the path of life, the shallower the heights we scale on the way.

SERENDIPIDY

The torture business is hard, physical work, and it really takes a toll on your body.
After a long day in the dungeons, your body aches and you feel utterly worn out.
It’s lifting all those heavy iron shackles, manhandling prisoners and hauling on ropes and chains all day.
Chopping off heads is the worst. My dodgy shoulder isn’t up to hefting that axe anymore.
So I persuaded management to buy one of those new -fangled guillotines, and it’s completely transformed my life.
You can say what you like about the modern world and the march of progress.
But assistive technology rocks!

LIZZIE

The little robot rolled around, following him. No, thank you. No need. You can roll back to your corner, he said holding his daughter’s photo. The pain was unbearable. The robot tilted its head to look at the photo. He frowned. What do you want? The robot blinked twice. He stared at it in silence. He knew that blink. He looked closer. Is it you in there? The robot blinked twice. He rushed to read the gift card again. And there it was. It’s just a robot, he thought, but it wasn’t just a robot. That blink saved his life.

NORVAL JOE

Mandy and Bobby waited in the back seat of the car. The strange old lady patted her head three times. “This is the place. Billbert’s inside.”

Seeing the tail of the active shooter’s van in a garage, Mandy knew the woman was right. “How did you find him?”

The woman muttered something about assistive technology, then said, “Stop wasting time and save the boy.”

Mrs. Weinerheimer was first out of the car and followed by Mandy and Bobbi.

They peered through a filthy window and saw the backs of two men and Billbert with his hands wrapped around Sabrina’s neck.

PLANET Z

Fred’s documentation is the world’s best.
He doesn’t just walk people through the process, but he works with the developers to get the interface so intuitive and easy to use, he barely needs to write anything.
And yet, people call Support with the dumbest questions.
They want people to do things for them.
And when the support person walks them through the process, it’s so easy.
It’s not like they’re sucking and puffing on a straw to make things work.
Shut up. Quit whining. Just do it.
Fred finishes the memo and blinks his eyes to close the text window.