Saturday, August 8, 2015


Last night I had drinks with my client Sean Ferrell. Next thing I know [and by next I mean 1am] I'm holding a stuffed parrot, stinking of sulphur and brimstone, standing outside an apartment in Park Slope holding the leash of a rather puzzled looking dog who didn't seem to know me, with no idea how I ended up there. Which calls for a writing contest don't you think? 

The usual rules apply: 
1. Write a story using 100 words or fewer. 
2. Use these words in the story: scene,  feral,  numb,  suit,  wry
3. You must use the whole word, but that whole word can be part of a larger word. The letters for the prompt must appear in consecutive order. They cannot be backwards. Thus: scene/obscene is ok but scene/Schenectady is not 
4. Post your entry in the comment column of THIS blog post. 
5. One entry per person. If you need a mulligan (a do-over) erase your entry and post again. It helps to work out your entry first, then post. 

They found Dad in his birthday suit, darting from shrub to shrub in the neighbors' yards, like a feral cat trying to escape. As usual, Emmett Hawley, the neighborhood numbskull and self-appointed muckraker, had called 911 and was causing a scene by the time I arrived with Dad's bathrobe. 

"Mrs. Hawley shouldn't see such things!" 

The snickering enraged Mr. Hawley. He pointed at me and shouted. "Your father should be locked up!" 

"He's harmless." 

"He's a menace!" 

"His wiring's gone awry, that's all." 

The "A" word, left unspoken, hung in the silence like a shroud as I walked Dad home. 


UPDATE: I write regular stories and many of the Reiders write exquisite stories ... in just 100 words! I suppose I should be pea-green with envy, but I'm not. I'm just grateful I can write regular stories which occasionally get recognition, because there was a time when I couldn't even write a regular story.

Special recognition for a great phrase
Kitty 1:20pm
"hung in the silence like a shroud"


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