The good thing about having a laptop is that you can take it with you and work from anywhere.
Of course, you need cords for it.
Power cord. Network cable.
An external keyboard or trackpad.
Spare batteries for all these things.
So, it’s inevitable that you forget something important when you pack up.
Or forget something important when you’re finished there and pack up to go home.
This is why I always have spares of everything.
Except that I pack the spares.
And, of course, forget them.
Oh well. I just need spares of the spares.
And not pack them.
Favorite Favorites
Freddy always went to his favorite restaurants.
But when a favorite restaurant would close down, he’d go another of it’s kind, but he never liked the new place.
The problem was, he’d always order “The Special” or “The Combination Platter” or some generic label for a dish.
Which he liked at his favorite restaurants.
But if his favorite Italian restaurant closed and he ordered it at a new Italian restaurant, The “Special” was something else.
Like spinach linguine instead of a sausage calzone.
When he was down to one favorite restaurant, he bought it.
“Don’t change a thing,” he said.
Ego Friendly
I’ve always wanted an electric car. Eco-friendly.
But we don’t have an outlet at home near where I’d park it.
There’s charging ports at work, though.
But what if I change jobs to a place without them?
So, I went with a plug-in hybrid.
It has enough electric range to get from home to work and back.
And a enough left over for a few errands on the weekend.
And then, the pandemic hit.
I work from home now.
And I’ve only filled up once i five months.
In light of the situation, I’d say that’s eco-friendly enough for me.
Weekly Challenge #827 – CLICHE
RUCHARD
100 Words
I’ve never really worked out how to be a success as a writer, because it seems to me there are two options to choose from.
You either avoid the obvious, clichéd tropes, attempt something new and ground-breaking and hope there are people out there, bored of the same old themes and stories, who’ll give you a shot.
Alternatively, you can play it safe: Every story a cliché, every ending a happy one, sticking with the tried and tested formulae, in the hope that there’s still space on the market for you.
Or you could, just write wistful, hundred-word stories!
LIZZIE
“A perfect storm,” he said.
I replied “what comes around goes around”.
He nodded. “If walls could talk…”
“Yup, but sometimes ignorance is bliss.”
He nodded again.
There was a moment of silence while we looked at the sea.
“We must think outside the box.”
I replied, “but we must be careful not to open a can of worms.”
“True. Oh, well. It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s dead as a doornail.”
I smiled. “Good things come to those who wait.”
“And we did wait a long time,” he said.
“We did. My finger was freezing,” I replied, holding the gun.
TURA
Cliché
———
The Archeologist read out his translation of a clay tablet that the Explorer had retrieved from the ruins of an ancient palace.
“It’s a proclamation from the Emperor’s First Minister, about the invasion that within a few years would destroy the empire. It says, ‘To all that it may concern. The Emperor is taking all appropriate measures to deal with the current situation, and anticipates a favourable resolution of the matter in the near future.’”
“Is that all?” said the Explorer disgustedly.
“He was a politician,” replied the Archaeologist. “In five thousand years, did they ever not speak in clichés?”
SERENDIPIDY
Just because I’m not a cliché doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be afraid.
Because, if you think about it, to be a trendy, teenage vampire, with lots of friends, a sense of fun and pretty mean baseball skills is far better cover than lurking in the shadows, sleeping in coffins and displaying an unhealthy interest in all things gothic.
Let’s face it, that sort of behaviour just screams, ‘vampire’, and is going to invite all sorts of unwanted attention and the distinct possibility of waking up to find someone looming over you with a wooden stake.
So, be afraid…
Very afraid!
TOM
What Could GO Possibly Wrong 027
“What goes around comes around,” quipped Parker. “Not that witty, mate,” fired the Captain,” perhaps one less cliché is in order.” “Is that some sort of French chocolate?” ask Molly coated in power. “Round my dear, not ground.” stated Arnesto. Well as gods of time and space would have, it the ground did move (forgive yet another cliché ) “Something has gone to ground, “ said Ford. It was still a moment, then all hell broke loose. No one keep their footing. “Oh no not again,” droned the Captain. “Not if I can’t help it,” said a voice below Parker’s feet.
NORVAL JOE
The old woman ushered them to a corner while the rest of the young people enjoyed Sabrina’s caramel corn and other goodies.
Billbert folded his arms defiantly. “I didn’t want any of your snacks, anyway. They probably have ingredients like eye of newt, or wing of gnat.”
The witch rolled her eyes. “Don’t be cliche. If you understood what magic really is, you would recognize, as I have, that the two of you are the only ones with real power.”
“Sabrina has real magical power?” he asked.
“Yes,” the witch said. “This is why you two must become a couple.”
PLANET Z
Benny Baker is only spoken of in hushed whispers.
His file was taken from the school under armed guard and brought to the district office.
Nobody’s allowed to see it.
And when it was time to computerize all of the district’s records, Benny’s file was kept on paper.
If you search for it, all you’ll get is RESTRICTED.
There was a group of kids who tried to break into the district office to find Benny’s file.
They were never seen again.
So, what about Benny?
He’s buried in the school yard.
With all the other pet hamsters from the kindergarten.
Pita burger
I hate it when the condiments slip out of a burger bun.
What a fucking mess.
Squeeze an overloaded burger too much, and everything spills and leaks and falls all over.
So, I switched to using pita bread pockets for my burgers.
I cut an opening on the side, lay the cheese on the burger, slide in the burger, and put in the condiments.
Then I close up the pita pocket and eat the burger from the cut end.
Nothing spills out, and it all tastes great.
But don’t tell me that a calzone is just a sealed pizza wrap.
Driving a typewriter
I was an interrogator.
They’d put a subject in a room, handcuff him to a table, and then I’d take over.
I’d bring in a manual typewriter, feed a sheet of paper into it, and ask questions.
All the while, I’d type in my notes.
Some of the subjects, they didn’t want to talk.
Or they’d yell at me. Or pray over and over loudly.
I’d stay in there, drinking my water, and just waiting them out.
Eventually, they’d talk. They’d say everything.
Then, I’d put the paper in a folder, pick up the typewriter, and bash in their skull.
Genie in the bottle
They say you can’t put the genie back in the bottle.
But you can kill it and chop it up and put the pieces in a blender and pour it back in.
Yes, genies are bigger than the bottle, but they managed to fit in there before, and they will again when you pour them back in.
There are perfectly rational explanations through physics.
Genies might be low-density creatures, who compact easily.
Or the inside of the bottle may have neutrino star material with a highly-localized gravity field to compress the contents.
Or, yeah, it could just be fucking magic.
Listen to the wind
You’re welcome to tell me anything you want to tell me.
Directly. You to me. Nobody in between.
Anonymous, relayed criticism is meaningless and cowardly.
If anyone has an issue with anything I do, they are welcome to tell me directly.
I’m not hard to find. Especially if I’m on their friends list.
Don’t have the courage to tell me directly?
Then you don’t stand behind what you say about me.
Just empty words without a name. Meaningless noise.
From a nobody.
Why should I listen to a nobody?
Might as well just listen to the wind through the trees.
The army of lion
Talleyrand said that he was more afraid of a hundred sheep led by a lion than a hundred lions led by a sheep.
Personally, I’d be concerned about the hundred lions led by the sheep.
All it takes is one of those hundred lions to kill that sheep and get it out of the way.
A lion mutiny.
Then, the dead sheep’s lion lieutenant gets promoted to leader.
And you’ve got ninety-nine lions led by a lion.
Which, if you put them against a hundred sheep led by a lion, will win every time.
I’ll gladly take that bet, Talleyrand.
Unliving Hell
When you copy a living human mind, you need to capture all of the quantum states of energy in the physical brain.
Although this will not result in a perfect copy.
A digital copy is not the same as a biochemical copy.
Biochemical energy does not behave the same as electrical energy in a virtual model.
So, a copied mind does not function properly.
We try to erase the self-awareness and the pain systems, adding fake sensory feedback to simulate a live vessel.
But they all collapse in the end, going silent and catatonic in their own private digital hells.