Monday morning: I know she’s wrong.
Tuesday: I think she’s wrong.
Wednesday: I ask my workmate, “She’s wrong, no?”
Thursday: I cook pan-roasted salmon, wait for her.
Friday: “Are you still angry, Baby?”
Saturday: “Sorry. I knew I was wrong.”
Sunday: We drive to the beach, curl up under stars.
Mandira Pattnaik is an Economics graduate who lets her degree gather dust while she word-weaves. Some of those pieces have made their way into Spelk, Lunate, Gasher, Star82, and fiftywordstories. She tweets @MandiraPattnaik.
“You never really listen to me,” she calls from the front door.
Seated on my couch, I can see her hand on her high-stacked purple matching luggage. Fourth time this year.
She’s wrong: I hear her. I just don’t care. “Dear,” I respond, “can I help you with your bags?”
Gary Zenker enjoys the challenge of making people think and laugh. He runs the Main Line Writers Group and the Wilmington Writers Group where they encourage both.
She claimed it was hers.
He claimed it was his.
Back and forth, heated words flew. Tempers flared and when it was all said and done the object in question was a crumpled mess on the floor.
Today’s Lesson: when arguing over the last donut, do it without playing tug-of-war.
Ernestine Coleman-Dupree is a married mother of two and admitted anime and science-fiction junkie who spends her free time cooking, singing karaoke, writing, and moderating several online communities dedicated to her love of all things fiction. She writes in several genres ranging from humor to erotica and is currently working on several novels.
Lily and Lile worked in the same library, and they had very different views on the topic of censorship.
“But don’t you think–” whispered Lily.
“Shh!” said Lile, shushing her.
“Shhhh!!” shushed Liza, one of their coworkers.
“Shhhhhh!!!” shushed Lily enthusiastically.
“SHH SHHHHHHHHH!!!” shushed their manager over the library-wide intercom.
This story was based on a prompt suggested by Nancy Cavanaugh via Facebook.
Jane liked yogourt.
Jake liked pudding.
They had little spats about which one was better pretty frequently. Mother told them they shouldn’t spit, though, so they started having tiffs, instead. Mother told them tiffs were an outdated file format, though, so they started bickering instead. Mom said that was ok.
My wife and I had an argument. She wanted to spend a hundred bucks each on opera tickets, and I wanted to play World of Warcraft.
The argument lasted for days, and neither of us would budge.
In the end, we compromised. I went along, but I brought my netbook.
This story was based on the titled as submitted by @Wo0t via Twitter.