wow ... powerful, your 100 is hard to beat. I've been writing something for my Musings tomorrow that feels like the jail cell you describe. I'll call it 'some elements of my life' and the discomfort would make that cell feel luxurious. I cannot imagine compacting my feelings to 1,000 words let alone 100, on this subject. I'll give it a try. In any case, congrats to you for sticking with this 100-word prompt thing of yours - methinks there is a book in it, a speaking tour, a standup act, a TED talk, a series of recordings/YouTube videos ... it's great, gritty, and it grips my gonads ...
Julie was not above exercising and enjoying fully the benefits of her station.
“As chief executive I have issued myself a free and unconditional pardon covering any and all offenses.”
Doris thought she had heard it all in her 20 odd years at the circulation desk. But this was a new one. She called over Flo from Periodicals to witness the exchange.
“Sorry dear, you may be president of your book club but you have no jurisdiction over the county library system. Or the ability to cancel our fines. Please just pay the 8 cents or hand over your card.”
There is no pardon for those people who get pancreatic cancer. It is still a killer and a quick sly one. A person can look normal and lively and be dead two weeks later. I am still in shock from the loss of my sister to this monster cancer.
She was lovely and had the best figure of the family. She was active in her community and was just beginning to enjoy retirement. Her husband died last year from work- related lung disease. So, there is a house in the Atlanta suburbs where no one is at home ever again.
This is so sad, Theresa. My husband and I are currently going through a lot with my mother-in-law’s stage 4 cancer diagnosis. That ending sentence brought me to tears.
Thank you , Caro . It is so sad and wanted to honor my sister in a way that shows how we have not won the battle against all cancers yet. There is so much sadness and loss around this particular cancer. I will pray for your family and hope for the best and God will bless you!
“Pardon me?” sharply replied Officer Paul Small, as he eyed the suspect carefully.
“What I meant to say, officer, is that you cannot pick me up every time something happens. I am not responsible for everything that occurs in this town.”
“Gordon, of course you are a suspect. With a list of offences that long, how could you not be interviewed?”
“A bad rap?” Gordon asked meekly. “I'm innocent!” he proclaimed.
“Really?” asked Officer Small.
“I made a wrong turn at Albuquerque,” he muttered to great laughter.
Gordon sighed. He hoped the food had improved significantly since his last visit.
Gordon Seguin was wandering through the Philatelists' show casually looking at all the exhibits. He would ask questions now and then, feigning interest and having conversations about the stamps he was interested in.
Gordon slowly found his way to his destination for the day. One of the exhibit booths had a stamp he was quite interested in. He approached it with awe as he spotted the stamp. He spent a great deal of time talking to the owner asking questions about the stamp of his interest and other stamps. This often required the man to look away.
At last Gordon inquired about the price, then shook his head in sorrow. He slowly walked away showing a little disappointment. He stopped at further booths along the way.
As he made his way to the door a hand reached out and took him by the arm.
“Please come with us sir,” intoned the security guard.
“What is your reasoning?” inquired Gordon.
“It would be better if you didn’t make a scene,” replied the guard's companion from behind him.
Gordon felt he had no choice but to walk with them.
Once they entered a room with a table and a couple of chairs in it, they released Gordon’s arm and indicated that he should sit in one of the chairs.
A few minutes later the door opened and in walked Officer Paul Small. “Gordon, what have you been up to this time?” he inquired.
Gordon looked around the room before answering. “I imagine the same as all the other people here. It is an amazing show. Lots of stamps caught my eye.”
“So we have heard,” indicated Officer Small. “Perhaps you could remove your coat and clean out your pockets for us?”
“I’d rather not,” he replied.
“We thought not, so we have a court order here that will allow us to do this.”
“A court order?” he queried. “How did you get one so fast?”
“Your reputation precedes you.”
Seeing that the gig was up Gordon did as was requested and then placed his hands behind his back. As the security guards put the cuffs on him, Officer Small noted all the stamps before he isolated one, the one Gordon had shown much interest in.
“What are the odds that this one was swapped?” Officer Small asked, looking at Gordon.
Gordon didn't flinch or provide an answer. He said to himself, “100%”
“It is worth more than the rest.” continued Officer Small. “We will have to check out the others.”
As his last visit to the jail had been not too long ago, Gordon made a vow to himself that he would request take out food for his meals. He had tasted better food on the streets.
wow ... powerful, your 100 is hard to beat. I've been writing something for my Musings tomorrow that feels like the jail cell you describe. I'll call it 'some elements of my life' and the discomfort would make that cell feel luxurious. I cannot imagine compacting my feelings to 1,000 words let alone 100, on this subject. I'll give it a try. In any case, congrats to you for sticking with this 100-word prompt thing of yours - methinks there is a book in it, a speaking tour, a standup act, a TED talk, a series of recordings/YouTube videos ... it's great, gritty, and it grips my gonads ...
Haha! I am laughing aloud right now at “…it grips my gonads.” Maybe, after a few more years, a book.
Loan Wolf
Julie was not above exercising and enjoying fully the benefits of her station.
“As chief executive I have issued myself a free and unconditional pardon covering any and all offenses.”
Doris thought she had heard it all in her 20 odd years at the circulation desk. But this was a new one. She called over Flo from Periodicals to witness the exchange.
“Sorry dear, you may be president of your book club but you have no jurisdiction over the county library system. Or the ability to cancel our fines. Please just pay the 8 cents or hand over your card.”
Oh, Julie has a nerve! Ha! Love the play on words, Scott.
Goodbye,Dear Joni
There is no pardon for those people who get pancreatic cancer. It is still a killer and a quick sly one. A person can look normal and lively and be dead two weeks later. I am still in shock from the loss of my sister to this monster cancer.
She was lovely and had the best figure of the family. She was active in her community and was just beginning to enjoy retirement. Her husband died last year from work- related lung disease. So, there is a house in the Atlanta suburbs where no one is at home ever again.
This is so sad, Theresa. My husband and I are currently going through a lot with my mother-in-law’s stage 4 cancer diagnosis. That ending sentence brought me to tears.
Thank you , Caro . It is so sad and wanted to honor my sister in a way that shows how we have not won the battle against all cancers yet. There is so much sadness and loss around this particular cancer. I will pray for your family and hope for the best and God will bless you!
My deepest condolences, Theresa. Blessings to you and yours also.
“Pardon me?” sharply replied Officer Paul Small, as he eyed the suspect carefully.
“What I meant to say, officer, is that you cannot pick me up every time something happens. I am not responsible for everything that occurs in this town.”
“Gordon, of course you are a suspect. With a list of offences that long, how could you not be interviewed?”
“A bad rap?” Gordon asked meekly. “I'm innocent!” he proclaimed.
“Really?” asked Officer Small.
“I made a wrong turn at Albuquerque,” he muttered to great laughter.
Gordon sighed. He hoped the food had improved significantly since his last visit.
Good one, Bill. I want to know more about this Gordon fella. This seems like a great setup for a longer piece. Is it?
Not so far but who knows. That's what I like about writing something, the possibilities are endless.
Caro, here is another story.
Gordon Seguin was wandering through the Philatelists' show casually looking at all the exhibits. He would ask questions now and then, feigning interest and having conversations about the stamps he was interested in.
Gordon slowly found his way to his destination for the day. One of the exhibit booths had a stamp he was quite interested in. He approached it with awe as he spotted the stamp. He spent a great deal of time talking to the owner asking questions about the stamp of his interest and other stamps. This often required the man to look away.
At last Gordon inquired about the price, then shook his head in sorrow. He slowly walked away showing a little disappointment. He stopped at further booths along the way.
As he made his way to the door a hand reached out and took him by the arm.
“Please come with us sir,” intoned the security guard.
“What is your reasoning?” inquired Gordon.
“It would be better if you didn’t make a scene,” replied the guard's companion from behind him.
Gordon felt he had no choice but to walk with them.
Once they entered a room with a table and a couple of chairs in it, they released Gordon’s arm and indicated that he should sit in one of the chairs.
A few minutes later the door opened and in walked Officer Paul Small. “Gordon, what have you been up to this time?” he inquired.
Gordon looked around the room before answering. “I imagine the same as all the other people here. It is an amazing show. Lots of stamps caught my eye.”
“So we have heard,” indicated Officer Small. “Perhaps you could remove your coat and clean out your pockets for us?”
“I’d rather not,” he replied.
“We thought not, so we have a court order here that will allow us to do this.”
“A court order?” he queried. “How did you get one so fast?”
“Your reputation precedes you.”
Seeing that the gig was up Gordon did as was requested and then placed his hands behind his back. As the security guards put the cuffs on him, Officer Small noted all the stamps before he isolated one, the one Gordon had shown much interest in.
“What are the odds that this one was swapped?” Officer Small asked, looking at Gordon.
Gordon didn't flinch or provide an answer. He said to himself, “100%”
“It is worth more than the rest.” continued Officer Small. “We will have to check out the others.”
As his last visit to the jail had been not too long ago, Gordon made a vow to himself that he would request take out food for his meals. He had tasted better food on the streets.