A smooth Cappuccino is on the brain today. A light touch of the menu screen starts the delivery process. Milk, coffee, and then foam create the elixir that will quell the low caffeine warning buzzer in my head. One sip begins recovery. The second sip ushers in the jarring sound of the Westminster chimes, proving once again that no one can read the “Do not ring the doorbell” sign. A knuckle bone tossed into the soundproof room and a slam of the door ensure that Tempeste and Twiggy will not bark me to St. Louis.

With peace restored, the monitor shows a large sheepdog that looks like Sam and a Wolf that looks like Ralph. Skipping the usual dialogue about leaving whatever the dog is delivering, the security shutdown process is begun.

The SWAT team needs to be put on standby. A quick text to the leader confirms that status. Also, the flight of A-10 Warthogs must be diverted. Another call to the commander puts that worry to rest. The SEAL team needs to be called off, and a call to the leader makes that possible. The MH-60 Jayhawk Helicopter hovering over the house is diverted. A call to the tow truck driver stops the deployment of an M1A1 Abrams Tank. The control panel simplifies the shutdown process of the security system. The boiling oil vats are put on standby, the turret mortars disengaged, the Trebuchet on safety, the concertina wire rolled, the Claymore mines reset, the tower Gatling guns on safety, the moat net dropped, the alligators fed, and the IEDs and shoulder-held rockets put away. The Proton torpedoes switched off. The gamma ray beams covered. The high-powered maser guns switched to standby, and the nanorobots were chained in the basement. The Klingons are called back, and the Targ is caged. Robbie’s Bot is sent to the basement. The Tasmanian Devil is directed to the food in his cage, and the door drops. The locks on the door are thrown. And the door opened.

The sheepdog has an envelope and a clipboard, which he hands to the wolf, looking like Ralph. Ralph hands both to me and points to the place to sign. After signing and handing the clipboard back, the sheepdog grabs me and turns me upside down. Several coins and a few bills drop to the porch. The wolf picks up a couple, and Sam says, “We know how you are and thank you for your generous gift.” Placed upright, my next move is to pick up the remaining money and head indoors quickly.

The envelope is from Linda Hill. Inside is a message which reads: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “smooth.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!

To see what others have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link: https://lindaghill.com/2026/02/27/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-feb-28-2026/

Smooth by John W. Howell, © 2026

“I guess word got around on your tipping habits.”

“The method of forcing a tip wasn’t very smooth.”

“On the contrary. I thought it was perfect.”

“You have a warped sense of perfection.”

“Well, I’m sure they knew you were going to give them a platatude  rather than hard cash.”

“Seems to me my tips are worth more than cash.”

“I wouldn’t take a poll on that if I were you.”

“Okay, let’s get on with the important stuff. Did you get an Uber?”

“Right over there.”

Photo By Dan Antion

“Okay, so give me the bad news on the stops we have to make.”

“We only have to make one.”

“One? Hard to believe.”

“But there is a catch.”

“There is always a catch.”

“Yeah, we have to attend a funeral.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“Can’t we just drop the flowers and be on our way?”

“No, the funeral home’s flower car broke down, so we have to transport the flowers from the church to the cemetery. ”

“Which means we have to be there for the service.”

“Yup. You have a black suit?”

“I’m not changing.”

“Fine. I’m sure the family will find those fuchsia colored shorts very comforting.”

“Sheesch. I’ll go change.”

“Lose the Go Steelers t-shirt too.”