Children aren’t mean. Sometimes they just lack common sense.
For example, at the party I was in charge of the pinata. Finding one, hanging it up, getting some big sticks.
We were having a lot of fun until Mrs. Pinata from down the block showed up, looking for her kid.
Joe Malone is living in a mud hut in South Sudan. Read more from him at http://joem18b.wordpress.com/
“What’s wrong with you, Shawn? You’ve spilled a drink on not just one, but four bobsledders.”
“Everything would have been fine if they’d just stood still.”
“What do you mean?”
“Because this lodge is furnished with valuable antiques, the barkeep made me promise to set my glass on a coaster.”
John H. Dromey has had a short story published in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, a mini-mystery in Woman’s World, plus fiction online at Liquid Imagination, Mysterical-E, and elsewhere.
Tom retired to Florida to play hopeless golf with wife Trish marking his scorecard.
In the Christmas tournament Tom swung and missed.
He swung again and the ball smacked into a tree then bounced back into the hole.
“What was that?” queried Trish.
“A par, Trish, and a pear tree.”
John B Sinclair is a much-travelled Scot who has now returned to Scotland, where he enjoys freelance writing on a variety of subjects.
“911, what is your emergency?”
“Screams coming from the house next door. Need police out here quick.”
“Do you know who lives there?”
“No, they just moved in.”
“Do you have an address?”
“No, I’m wearing shorts and a halter top. Is there a dress code for calling the cops?”
Gary Clifton, forty years a cop, has nearly 60 short fiction pieces published or pending with online sites. He has an M.S. from Abilene Christian University.
I ran away with my prince to the forest.
“Stay the night with me,” he said, and laid me down on the forest floor. When we were done, I fell asleep shrouded in wildflowers.
When I woke up, he was gone. Now I no longer believe in happily heather rafters.
Wendy White Lees is a freelance writer and editor who still believes in fairy tale endings, even if she has to write them herself.
She fished the gem out of her belly button, popped it in her mouth, and swallowed.
“So predictable,” yawned the border guard.
“You know what happens next?” She smiled. “Now you have to get it the hard way.”
Just then, her little cough turned into a full-on choke.
Lynlea Oppie enjoys reading and writing flash fiction.
“I won’t recommend seafood dishes anymore,” the waiter explains. “It has landed me in hot water too many times before.”
“Oh?” I say. “Do people really get upset with you when they don’t like your suggestions?”
“I mean literal hot water,” he says sardonically, clicking his lobster claws.
This story was based on the prompt “won’t recommend” at TypeTrigger.
“I’m returning this puzzle.”
“Sorry, we don’t do returns on products that have been taken out of the packaging.”
“But there were pieces missing!”
“Oh… I see the misunderstanding. You can’t get the corners here.”
“What? Where do I get them?”
“At a Corner Store. Duh.”
This story was based on the prompt “corner store” at TypeTrigger.
Glenda sashayed into the house pulling an overflowing shopping cart.
Trevor nearly fell off his chair. “What in the world? Where’d you get all that butter!?”
“I was couponing,” explained Glenda, “and I got on a roll…”
“What are we supposed to do with it!?”
“…Put it on some rolls?”