Curt David
2020 was almost
over. The election? Still not decided.
"Let's pick
randomly," Ms. Bell suggested.
"Liberty, no.
We need to all agree; need to find someone to join our team," Uncle Sam
retorted.
"Nothing
positive happened this year," Mr. Baldy squawked.
"His
lackadaisical comment aside, does anyone have someone to nominate?" Ms.
Flag asked.
"The winner
will join the ranks of us quintessential symbols of the United States of
America!" Statue of Liberty exclaimed. "Who exhibited such bravery,
heroism, compassion, and strength this past year?"
National Anthem
thought a moment, then belted out, "What about Front Line Workers?"
Unanimous
decision.
Love this concept a lot!
Craig F
The morning broke
queasy, punctuated with pieces of a dream in a snot green medium.
Pulling the slack
from some remaining brain cells, the green crap became a sofa
The glass of tea
on the floor wasn’t tea. Suppressing a gag, I saw flecks of something like rust
on my hands.
Struggling to the
bath my eyes popped open, then shut, then wouldn’t pass a squint. In the tub
was the dream, in pieces; that wasn’t rust on my hands.
The morning broke queasy is a perfect phrase.
Marie McKay
She keeps the
screams in the cushions, the strain in the sofa seams, the tears in the tea
cups, the cracks in the broken plates, the pain in the squint of the photo
frame, the shame in dark corners; sadness in cupboards, dismay in closed doors,
sadness in blankets, wounds in loose clothing; her courage in the chink of the
curtain, her hope in the green of the trees. Her plans in the blue of beyond,
her mettle in a suitcase.
and, Mari McKay saunters in and drops perfection on the desktop.
This is just plain amazing.
It's not quite a story but who the hell cares.
Jennifer Rand
All she has are
suspicions.
Her husband and
her best friend, Paige.
How long?
Confronting them
would be messy. Paige's son, Jimmy, is her own son's best friend.
With tea in hand
and a desire to deny, she joins the teenagers in the rec room. The boys lie
sprawled on the sofa watching the game.
"Who you
rooting for?" she asks.
"Panthers."
"Which team
is that?"
"Green
jerseys," Jimmy says.
"They're
blue, dumbass!" her son chides.
The words thunder
in her brain.
She steps back
slack-jawed and squints to hide her tears.
"Hey, mom!
Jimmy's colorblind just like dad."
oh my godiva.
Mallory Love
“It’s further than
it looks, old sport, but it’s always there."
I followed his
gaze out to the slack water, steamed with fog. Squinting, I could see the green
light in the distance.
So familiar, yet
different.
This time I didn’t
tell him I was a time traveler or that I had lived many variations of this
moment. I didn’t say that sometimes the light was red or blue. I didn’t warn
him of the fate that awaited him, because he was always succumbing to it.
Overdosing, hanging, drowning.
The only thing
that ever remained the same was the dream.
It took me three reads to get this.
How about you?
Michael Seese
"I can make
you a star, sweetie. But first..."
"Whatever it
takes," she teased, lying back on the sofa, flattening it
"Cut!" I
yelled.
"I simply
can't work like this," Rex whined, throwing up his tiny arms.
I agree not
everything had gone as planned. Indeed, this quintessential labor of love of
mine appeared headed for divorce. On paper, it looked perfect; in reality, it's
lacking a plot, competent actors, and passion.
"Perhaps I
could lose weight," Vela offered.
Not before the
asteroid hits, I thought. Some movies simply should not be made. Apparently
"Jurassic Tart" is one of them.
After I stop laughing, I will be able to tell you how much I
love Michael Seese's pun-ch lines.
Amanda
Me: So, 2020,
coronavirus has kinda stolen your thunder like the green grinch stole
Christmas. Wanna give me a gift early and share what the tealeaves say for
2021?
2020: What’s the
fun in that?
Me: Gotcha. But a
lot of people would appreciate it.
2020: Sorry, no.
Me: Holding your
cards close, huh?
2020: I’ve done a
good job so far, haven’t I?
Me: Yeah, but you
haven’t trumped us, yet. How about a squint at next month?
2020: Patience...
Me: ...and maybe
2021 will cut us some slack.
2020: Hindsight is
20/20!
oh god, this is right up there in the Punchine Pantheon!
Colin Smith
I don’t normally
do art, but Rob insisted. Said my brain was slack and I needed a fresh
perspective on life. That’s what friends are for.
So they say.
So, fact is, I went. Not that I agree. Not
for any reason other than to placate Rob.
It was all weird,
but the weirdest was the crowd around the last painting. Their scowling faces
seemed so angry.
The painting was a
mess. Lines and colors that had no cohesion.
Just like me, I
thought.
And then I saw the
title:
“Sea with Squint
Tea Ice”
And it changed my
life.
What is it about this week that you're all playing with
these punch lines so deftly?
It took me two reads to get this, but I finally did.
Brigid
Welcome to the
Greenfield Library Online Catalog: Place Holds.
03/13/2020
Requests:
Quintessential
Kale Cookbook 978-1510738164
12 Rules for Life:
An Antidote to Chaos 978-0141988511
04/02/2020
Requests:
Slack: Getting
Past Burnout 978-0767907699
Are You There,
Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea 978-1416954125
05/11/2020
Requests:
What Color Is Your
Parachute? A Practical Manual for Job-Hunters 978-0399581892
05/31/2020
Requests:
Didn't See That
Coming 978-0063010529
Personal Bankruptcy Laws for Dummies
978-0471773801
Unf*ck Yourself
978-1473671560
09/18/2020
Request:
So Far from God
978-0393326932
11/03/2020
Requests:
A Promised Land
978-1524763169
Error: Not yet
available.
11/30/2020
Requests:
How to Build a
Time Machine 978-1250024220
No Time Like the
Future 978-1250265616
We need a non-fiction category in these contests!
KDJames
If she tilts her
head and squints, she sees it clearly:
The odd green that
never matched anything
(they were young,
hopeful, it was on sale)
Firm cushions
supporting breastfeeding babies
Increasingly
stained, kids climbing, jumping, napping
Snuggling close
with books
Remnants of
spit-up, grubby fingers, embedded pet fur
Cushions sagging,
muffling tear-filled nights
Waiting up,
corners worn thin as slackened faith
Relegated to the
playroom, still no match
Seldom used now,
kids grown, moved out
All things have
their time
Some linger
Inexplicably
Careful, she tells
the junk removers, that sofa is far heavier than it looks.
The only thing missing here is the residue from the week I
spent on the SGS with the second worse case of bronchitis I've ever had.
Couldn't sleep lying down at all, so on the couch. I'd put on DVDs of
The Wire, a show I know so well I can nap through an episode and not be lost in
the slightest.
I think I watched all five seasons at least three times that week.
By the time I could stagger down to the trash bins, I had
three 13-gallon bags filled with used Kleenex
C. Dan Castro
The massive, blood
red demon squashed my sofa. Despite log-like fingers, he picked up his teacup
and sipped.
He stopped,
phosphorescent green eyes squinting at the ceramic.
I quavered.
"N-needs sugar?"
"Tea's
excellent. Almost...heavenly." He seized the teapot. Guzzled it. Belched.
"Your soul's due. Today."
"But...ten
years..."
"Millennials.
Trade for a fortune, then slack off ten years."
"I didn't. I
researched. Contract expires if the demon expires."
"Oh?"
"And if you
drank holy water..."
The demon looked
at the teapot.
And exploded.
Ugh. Sulfurous
demon guts everywhere. But I can pay someone to clean.
I've got a
fortune.
I'm so glad I have a vial of holy water from Lourdes.
Who knows when a demon may show up!
Casual-T
"I quite
agree," nodded Watson. "So far, the experience has been less than
convincing. I'd even say it's lacking its quintessental aspects." He
passed the steaming beverage under his nose, once more.
"Indubitably,
my dear Watson," the master detective replied, putting down his own cup.
"When it comes to the great British tradition of infusing hot water with
subtle flavor, it is every gentleman's honor-bound duty to not short-change
himself."
"Quite
so," the doctor confirmed eagerly, walking toward the door of the scarlet
study. "I shall teach the new cook how to prepare a decent cup of coffee,
at once."
Nice twist!
french sojourn
He placed the old
green book back on the table beside the sofa. “Le Masque de la mort rouge,”
talk about one a day plus irony. He thought about all those slack jawed people.
He squinted at the clock on the wall… “Fuck it, might as well check the
numbers,” he switched on the tv.
“… so, you’re
saying that since mammoths roamed the earth, mankind’s instincts have only ever
been fight or flight?”
“Exactly… now with
this pandemic there is no fight or flight… we have to do something else… let
each family isolate.”
“Shouldn’t be that
hard.” (coughs)
One a day plus irony is a great phrase.
(will younger folk get the allusion?)
AJ Blythe
Sofia adjusted her
apron, took the tray Chef thrust at her and on silent tread entered the dining
hall. After a careful curtsy, she served the old tyrant his buttermilk radish
soup.
“Green pepper oil,
sir?” She held out a small bottle.
At his nod she trickled
a teaspoon over the hot soup. Stoppered the bottle. Took a step back.
He slurped from
his spoon. Paused for a rattling breath. Slack-jawed he squinted at her, his
face turning a sludgy toad green.
“So-fa.” Drool
slid down his chin.
Sofia slid the
indenture-ending bottle of green peanut oil into her pocket.
ohhh, clever clever!
Amy Johnson
If only she could
have known.
Starry eyes
finally collide.
After three
stints, quints.
Dolly tea parties,
little jeans with green knees.
Seven snuggled on
the sofa for nursery rhymes, story times, movie nights.
Their silver
anniversary, five contributing to society, her second master’s degree.
Wrinkled hands
writing letters: lacking stop sign, lights to prevent crime.
Volunteering on
that hotline.
If only she could
have known.
Very very subtle.
This is a classic illustration of leaving your reader
wanting more and resisting the urge to fill in
all the details. A very delicate balance.
*****
I have a winner in mind but I'd like to hear what you think.
Did I miss anyone?
Did I overlook something amazing?
Let me know in the comments column.
Final results later today!
"Later today" didnt account for the burp in the space time contiuum.
You felt it, right?