The monsters and I made a deal.
They get three bushels of corn a week.
And all the thieves they can eat.
Considering how much the thieves stole, three bushels a week is a bargain.
Plus, the monsters give me everything the thieves had.
Wallets, Boots. Cell phones. Nose rings.
That kind of stuff.
The clothes I sell to Goodwill.
Well, the clothes that don’t fit.
The stuff I sell at pawn shops.
Because I don’t have receipts.
“Didn’t we just eat you?” say the monsters.
“I’m just wearing their stuff,” I say.
And put down three bushels of corn.
Weekly Challenge #949 – PICK TWO Semantics, Cheers, Pots and pans, Landslide, Fret, Crystal
TOM
Absolute Torch and Twang
Crystal Fret was a county western singer in the early 40s. A solid voice but wasn’t graced with a lot of luck. Never could rise to the top of the game. Or for that matter the middle of the game. She was the girl on the third mic. Repeating the reframe. Crooning on the long note. Was on a few Your Hit Parade, even made an appearance on the Grand Ole Opper. Crystal Fret was born in Brooklyn and never could quite lose that New York “R” and “d”. Later in life she became the head tour guide at Graceland.
RICHARD
To the letter
I knew I was in trouble again. She had ‘that’ look on her face – the mix of frustration, annoyance and disbelief, it was a look that spelled just one thing.
“Well?” She stood there, hands on hips, demanding a reply.
“Well, what?” I responded innocently.
“The washing up! You’ve only done half of it, and left all the pots and pans. And you’ve haven’t dried anything!”
I gave her my smug, self-satisfied look.
“You asked me to wash the dishes, that’s what I’ve done. You said nothing about the rest.”
I’m an English teacher, and I just love semantics!
LIZZIE
Crystal was a cow. She was content with her simple bucolic life. When aliens appeared near the creek, she decided to investigate. “Cheers,” she mooed. The aliens got startled and, in a panic, hid behind a rock. “What’s up?” But they just stared at her. “Moo?” Nothing. “Ok, well, nice to meet you guys.” And she trotted away. Later, when the aliens snuck up on her with a syringe, she went “Oh, no, you won’t! It’s bad enough you’re poking around.” That seemed like a pretty clear statement. But the aliens were confused. Poke? Around? Semantics, semantics are a bitch!
SERENDIPIDY
“Cross my palm with silver, and your future will be laid bare before you.”
The politician passed me a sizeable wad of cash.
I shook my head and beckoned for more. He was happy to comply.
Muttering an invocation quietly to myself, I passed my hands over the crystal ball, then looked up at him, a gleam in my eye.
“It will be a landslide victory!”
After he’d left the tent, I chuckled. It would be a landslide alright… for his opponent!
I gathered up the pile of cash from the table.
My future, on the other hand, looked rosy!
NORVAL JOE
It was crystal clear to Billbert how upset Sabrina was at the mention of Mandi’s name. What was not clear was why.
Billbert tried to fold his arms, but Sabrina quickly grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently. Billbert shrugged. “I haven’t seen Mandi since the shooting and I want to make sure she’s okay. Just like I did with you.”
Sabrina released his hand and closed her eyes like she was going to sleep. “If you have to see Lindi Mindi. Go.”
“It’s nothing to fret about,” Billbert Grumbled, heading out. “Mom said she would check on you later.”
PLANET Z
Every now and then, I look for something in the kitchen and can’t find it.
Is it in the cupboard? Is it in the left drawer? The right?
In the kitchen island?
Or the pantry, or on the shelves of the mud room?
There’s a point at which I’ll just give up and drive to Walmart to get a new one of whatever instead of asking where it is.
We needed a new one of that anyway, I tell myself.
The shelves and cabinets and cupboards and drawers get more and more cluttered.
Future bargains for the inevitable estate sale.
CHATGPT
At the heart of the bustling kitchen, Emma and Jake argued over semantics—whether the dish should be called “stew” or “soup.” Amid the clattering of pots and pans, their disagreement grew, fueled by the stress of their upcoming dinner party. Outside, a landslide of rain pattered against the windows, echoing their tension. “Let’s not fret over names,” Jake finally said, raising a glass of wine. “Cheers to making something delicious!” Emma smiled, the argument melting away like crystal-clear rainwater. As they cooked side by side, the simple act of creating together turned their debate into a cherished memory.
Duke
Your parents don’t love you.
Or your brother.
So, you’ll stay with us.
We’ll raise you.
We’ll teach you right.
We’ll make you successful.
We’ll make you popular.
We’ll open doors for you.
But you can’t be you anymore.
Anna Marie is dead.
You’re Patty now.
Drink this.
Take these pills.
Talk like this.
Dress like this.
When people ask you questions, say these things.
Your name up in lights…
Patty, not Anna Marie.
And you’ll be on Broadway.
You’ll be on the big screen.
You’ll be on the small screen.
You’ll be loved everywhere.
But you’ll never love yourself.
Team Mascot
Every day, a possum visits my patio.
And I put out cat food for it.
The possum sniffs around, eats the food, and then wanders off.
During a pointless argument and project delay, I pointed my laptop camera out the window during a work meeting.
There were a lot of questions about the possum.
And then the team adopted the possum as our mascot.
And they made a logo with the possum.
Just as the project was falling apart.
I think it was the first and only time that the team actually accomplished something without weeks of debate and mistakes.
Security cameras
The first rule of security cameras is that if you don’t see security cameras, then the cameras are well-hidden.
However, the second rule of security cameras is to make them visible so that people know they are there.
Then there’s the third rule: it’s cheaper to put a sign up that says there are security cameras, even though there aren’t any security cameras.
Because if people can’t see a security camera, they know they must be well-hidden.
Still, it pays to look, because if you’re like me, someone who steals and fences security camera, they can be worth a lot.
So, I made a LinkedIn account.
Connected with a bunch of coworkers and people I went to school with.
And then, I let it sit for a few years.
Every now and then, someone requests a connection.
Or there’s a bunch of people congratulating me for a work anniversary.
Then there’s the waves of connection requests by coworkers.
Usually, that a sign something bad is coming.
They ask me for recommendations.
So, I agree, and then the prospective employer calls me, I tell them the truth:
“You know what? I recommend that you hire me instead.”
And I hang up.
I love a parade
Long ago, I was in a Fourth of July Parade in Deerfield, Illinois.
We were doing the Boston Tea Party, dressed up in Indian war paint and throwing sturdy carboard boxes at the crowd that were painted to look like tea chests.
Helpers would gather and stack the boxes back up for us to throw again.
Celebrating cultural appropriation and defamation for patriotic purposes.
Tossing those boxes, we bonked a few people on the head.
One of the metal clips came loose from a box and tore up a few people’s hands and heads until they put that box away.
The walk to the store
On Saturday, I like to walk to the grocery store.
I bring a pair of reusable bags, because the handles of paper and plastic bags are prone to breaking.
There are several grocery stores within walking distance.
Each has a different route, some along ugly streets and some through nice subdivisions with sidewalks and tree cover.
I sweat a lot on these walks, and cashiers ask if I’ve been running.
“No,” I say. “I’ve been walking. If I had been running, I’d have gotten here sooner.”
I’d probably have sweated less, being out in the Texas sun that much less.
Lisa – Him
Him
He was a charismatic man; I don’t think I fancied him not at first anyway. I’d always been a plain girl but there I felt special, like I stood out. It was how he treated people. He held your attention while he spoke; he didn’t look anywhere else. He put you at ease.
It didn’t matter what he was saying: even explaining the old plumbing he had us all enthralled.
I trusted and respected him. I never felt he’d given me any reason to doubt him, ridiculous isn’t it when he’d kept me and the others imprisoned in his basement?
Weekly Challenge #948 – Spread
The next topic is PICK TWO Semantics, Cheers, Pots and pans, Landslide, Fret, Crystal
RICHARD
Breakfast
Please be careful in the kitchen, you’ll find the floor may be a little slippery.
It’s entirely my fault, but you see, I had to find a solution.
I’m always in such a hurry rustling up something for breakfast that I invariably manage to drop my toast… You know how it goes: Always, butter side down.
That’s why these days, I never butter my toast, instead I spread the butter on the floor.
I still manage to drop it, all the time, but at least it doesn’t matter which way up it lands.
Oh, and that sticky patch is marmalade.
LIZZIE
Spread the news, folks, only one train a week from Monday onwards. Yes, I know. It’s a pain, but it’s out of my hands. Top branch has decided and I follow their orders, that’s all. No, Mr. Peters, I get no extra time off. I still have to be here at the station. Of course, Mrs. Lemon, but don’t be so bitter. Sorry, I couldn’t help it! And I see you, young Thomas, I see you. No more fun trips to the city ladies no more. Oh, that was a secret, was it? My sincere apologies. Well, now everyone knows.
SERENDIPIDY
“Spread ’em!”
The cop’s instruction was clear, unfortunately my interpretation of it wasn’t. I did what I thought I was being asked, and that’s how I ended up with an indecent exposure rap, on top of the original charge for robbery.
As he spun me round to apply the handcuffs, I lost my balance, accidentally punching him in the face.
So, that’s assaulting a police officer too.
The handcuffs caught on the seat as they pulled me out, tearing the fabric.
That’s criminal damage then!
I got away scot-free.
In the confusion, they forgot to read me my rights!
LISA
Our World
Time became meaningless, we had no jobs to get to. We stayed up all night; we slept through days: all decided by the sound of the gong. It was a move away from the Traditional.
We had a few trips out: hung around uni campuses to try and spread the word. To extend our flock. It felt weird being away from the safety of the house.
Apart from those trips we had no contact with outsiders. There was no TV or radio. We’d had no more newspapers since leaving the basement.
Our world had shrunk. And none of us cared.
TOM
The Spread
Chicago was a union town. And every neighborhood had a union bar which often served as a union hall. This is where the working class had there wedding receptions. Pretty drab in a decorative sense, but what it lacked in appearance it made up in sure volume of food. A spread to die for. Food spread out on the bar end to end. The promise of free food is what drew my dad to these prenuptials. Man had serious balls. Also, a skill to do any ethic vocal inflection. From Polish to tagalog. A man from any bundók to miasto.
NORVAL JOE
The following day Billbert found Sabrina asleep with a sheet spread over her. Touching her hand, she opened her eyes and smiled. “Hi, Billbert.”
“My mom sent some clothes.” Billbert said and held up some t-shirts with Kuromi and other anime characters, and some pairs of cut-off sweatpants. “She sewed Velcro on the side so you can put on the shorts without having to pull them up.”
Excited, Sabrina said, “Wait outside while the nurse helps me put them on.”
“Actually. I have to talk to Mandi,” Billbert apologized.
Sabrina’s face darkened. “Why do you have to talk to her?”
PLANET Z
When Bilbo says he feels like butter spread over too much bread, I look at this podcast and sigh.
Eighteen years? Nineteen years?
I post stories from my dwindling drafts pile for the previous week, not the upcoming week.
I dawdle on Sunday mornings until I feel compelled to post the weekly challenge.
A simple spelling mistake on a file, and there’s nothing to hear until I fix it.
A week later.
Just make it to five. Just make it to ten. Just make it to fifteen.
Just make it to twenty.
Why? Why do I do this?
Why not?
CHATGPT
On a sunny afternoon, Clara spread a blanket under the old oak tree, setting out an assortment of her grandmother’s homemade pastries. She had carefully prepared the spread: warm scones, jam, and butter, each bite a taste of her childhood. As friends and family gathered around, laughter and conversation filled the air. Clara watched as the joy of sharing her grandmother’s recipes brought smiles to everyone’s faces. Each piece of pastry was more than just food—it was a piece of her past, lovingly spread out for all to enjoy. In that moment, Clara realized that the simplest gestures often create the most cherished memories.