November 19, 2019 – Prompt – If You Want to Annoy Me Just . . .

Here we go again. The interview of some “important” celebrity is already annoying me. About every other word they say, “Ya know?” Now I’m screaming, “No! We don’t know. That’s why you are being interviewed — so we will know, you twit.”

I am also annoyed when officers in a movie or TV cop show are yelling at a suspect, “Get down on the ground! Get down on the ground!” The scene may be in an apartment on the 15th floor of the Vegas Marriott or similar location. The suspect has a clear choice: 1. Comply with the police and run to the balcony and jump; 2. Or they can ignore the order and drop to the floor. Either way they could get resisting arrest tacked on to their charges. There’s no ground anywhere fifteen floors up. Potting soil for the palms in the hall doesn’t count either. When the cop catches up to the suspect below where they’ve landed on sidewalk or pavement or grass, anywhere but “the ground,” the suspect has still ignored police orders. They should be subject to resisting arrest.

In movies and videos the blue uniformed horse soldiers arrive with bugle calls and flying flags to chase the attacking tribe away from circled wagons. Actors often shout, “We’re saved! The Calvary is here!” I am yet again very annoyed. That religious landmark cannot leap oceans to help them. They should have shouted, “cavalry.” It may help script writers and actors to learn and remember the correct word is derived from Spanish for horses.

If you want to annoy me enough to scream at you just do one of the previous or another from my long list, “Things that piss me off.”

Donavin Leckenby


I am a person who comes to anger very slowly and when I do reach my boiling point, I don’t yell and scream, throw things, hurl curses and deplorable names at the person who has annoyed me. I stay extremely quiet and express my feeling with forceful words punctuated by silent emphasis.

One such occasion I recall occurred when I was working at St. Anthony’s in the Orthopedic surgery. When you arrived in the morning you got your assignment for the day.On this particular day my scrub tech, Alan was his name, and I had a case that was on the schedule for eight o’clock. We gathered our supplies and we took them to the operating room.

Now an aside when you get ready for a surgery you do not or did not open your sterile packs to early. We were notified that our case had been delayed so we left our packs unopened. Alan and I left the room the have coffee.

Twenty minutes later we went to our OR to find another scrub tech who wasn’t assigned to our cases opening our packs. Now as the circulating nurse I feel I am in charge of the room.

I don’t know what I said to her, but Alan later commented, “I hope I never make you mad.”

And I know I never raised my voice.

Christine Howard

November 12, 2019 – Prompt – One More Mile

Hattie didn’t like the back seat. She had always gotten sick in her tummy enough so that Aunt Pearl would never feed her anything with grease. But Aunt Pearl had forgotten today was the trip to visit cousin Louie.

Hattie burped. She could taste the sausage she’d eaten for breakfast. Aunt Pearl eyed her like a black crow at a roadkill. “Hold it child, just one more mile.”

The sun beamed out after weeks of rain. The cotton fields all in fancy rows, with full blooms spreading pollen throughout the community—causing havoc on running noses with nowhere to go.

Hattie burped again. She scooted near the side door and rolled the window down, slow and easy, so not to disturb Uncle Howard’s driving. The hot wind set cool on her face.

This week’s trip, much like last weeks had Billie and Jesse Mae kissing and smooching, sucking on each other’s earlobe every chance they can get.

Watching them was enough to make Hattie ill. She hates where she is, but at ten-years-old there isn’t much she can do to change the situation.

Someday—someday, soon.

She burped, feeling the grease crawling up trying to escape.

She swallowed. Oh, Lordy, give me  . . . one more mile. 

__ Suzie Hagen


November 5, 2019 – Prompt – River, Stone, Branch , Cloud

The reflection of the sky in the quiet and still lake showed one cloud as it floated on towards the river.   I traipsed knee-deep through the lake just because I could . . . stepping gingerly over the round rocks on my unshod feet . . . ouch . . .  A branch poked into my leg.   I wonder why I didn’t see it . . . the lake is so clear.   That was silly of me.   One would think I would have seen it.

What a beautiful day it is.   I breathe deeply and can smell the forest of pine trees, the sweetness of the grass; I can hear the sound of the water flowing down the rapids as the lake pours its soul through the rocks below.   Hear the birds?   I do . . . Tweet, tweet, tweet.   Oh, look at how they dance together.   There is a little one just chasing the hawk away.   I bet there is a nest over there, and the bird is protecting it from that hawk.    I love to watch them in action.    Oh look see the chipmunks scurrying in and out of that downed tree with the knotholes.   Chasing each other as if they have nothing else to do.  Oh look, he stopped, and another fell right into him.   Ha ha ha . . .  they make me smile.    Ah the love of wildlife and nature.   There is so much joy in the watching.

And now . . .  back to reality . . .  but I always have this to review in the avenue of my mind on another day.   I do that, you know.   I bring these memories out when I am having a bad day . . . they change my spirit into something bright.


-eileen detloff

October 22, 2019 – Prompt- The leaves were crunching beneath my feet, then I was falling through a hole

The leaves were crunching beneath my feet, then I was falling through a hole.

I awoke a while later, how long exactly I do not know, a few hours perhaps. At any rate, the sun had slipped down the icy blue sky to tickle the tops of the trees. That was my view from the bottom of the hole. It was a small hole and I wasn’t uncomfortable, but I was cold. I bent my arms and legs—everything seemed to be in working order. I stood up slowly. Stretching a bit, I found that I could get my eyes above the top of the hole. I scanned my surroundings, looking for whatever must have propelled me into this predicament. I found a foothold and was about to clamber out when movement in the trees caught my eye. I stood still and watched. A woman wearing a turquoise green cloak was bent over, speaking to a pumpkin—a jack o’ lantern to be exact. I saw the candle light from the gourd, and I saw the woman as she took a fan from the folds of her cloak. She spoke softly, then flicked her fan. I saw, for an instant, the pumpkin, then a second later an Adonis—that was the word that came to me. The male form that appeared was superb in every way. The woman took out a flask and gave a drink to the man. He looked at her with love and lust.

Karen Hydock