(Author’s note: Such great responses from everyone for last week’s piece. I will respond this evening, I’m just dealing with a lot of crunk related to winter camp here. Hope to have more coming up after the camp is done. Otherwise, here’s a good one, being written while the moon is starting to eclipse…)
© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
by Miles H. Rost
“So, where did you get all that wood from?”
Christine looked at her husband, who just gazed down at his shiny boots.
“I went out and cut a couple at the edge of the…”
Mike stared at her with that word, and started to fume.
“You didn’t cut down the trees, because there’d be sawdust on your boots.”
“I used the chainsaw.”
“It’d still be there. I told you to cut the trees down, and you went and bought wood.”
Mike sighed, as he gave her a note.
“It was given. There’s the proof that people know we’re poor.”
Before we begin, please make sure to read the latest non-fictioneers story: Poor Boy Long Way From Home. I can guarantee that if you are a foreigner, who also happens to be an English teacher, that’ll be for you. Now, on with the show…
copyright Douglas M. MacIlroy
Lights In The Dark
“Alright, who’s idea was it to put candles near my feet?” Steve asked, annoyed.
“Put them?! No way! They were already there. YOU put your feet there!” Berta replied.
“Then can you explain to me how, when I haven’t moved from this chair, my feet started on fire?”
“You were paying too much attention to your little program on Japanese hand carvings.”
“But I haven’t moved from…”
“Those candles were lit this afternoon. AFTER you killed the power by cutting the outside cords.”
“And I got them turned back on.”
“It’s your fault your feet got burned. Want some peppermint lotion?”