Staring at the cup as the machine finishes its work, the residual effects of my second Covid booster have me fixated on the beauty of the dark frothy liquid. For two days, my body has been in a state that could best be described as hungover. Recalling the days when copious amounts of gin were consumed with an equal quantity of abandon and mirth. The next day was payback for all that fun. It has been years now, but today I feel the effects mirrored by that libertine care abandonment of years ago.

The cup is ready, and it appears that life will continue a sip later. But unfortunately, my phone has sent an alert of a front door visitor. A deep sigh indicates that this might not be the time to entertain whoever may be there. Deciding to ignore the Ring camera and try sipping coffee from a reclining position on the couch, I move the magazine in my way. The cover picture would rattle me on a normal day. Today the sight of a piazza in a cast iron pan is almost enough to inspire a call to 9-1-1.

Forgoing the couch, I go through the process of opening the front door. Chains undid, Locks unlocked, steel bars rolled aside, explosive device unarmed, the door is swung open. I tawt I taw a puddyy tat,” was the first thing to come out of Tweety Bird’s beak. y shock at seeing her was only exceeded by the fact she was ten feet tall. You been hanging around that Alice person?” was my question.

Tweety just smiled and handed me an envelope, turned, and was down the driveway. Pity, the cat, was my thought as I opened the envelope. Inside was a message from Linda Hill. Here’s what it said.

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “a picture from wherever.” When you sit down to write your post, find a picture, whether in a magazine, newspaper, or even product packaging. Write whatever thought or emotion the picture provokes. Enjoy!

If you want to enjoy, visit Linda’s blog and read how easy it is. Here is the link

https://lindaghill.com/2022/06/10/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-11-2022/

A Picture from Wherever by John W. Howell © 2022.

“Feeling rough, huh?”

“Yeah,  a little. better than yesterday.”

“The booster did that?”

“Yeah.  t was the same last time too.”

“So what was with the magazine?”

“The pizza you mean.”

“Okay, the pizza.”

“Can’t explain it.   shot of a pizza in a pan, and I about lost it.”

“You should have gone right to the door.”

“And what come face to face with a ten-foot Tweety earlier?”

“I see your point. hose characters can be a pain for sure.”

“I just can’t figure out why they come around me.”

“Maybe they think you’re a character.”

I suppose that’s it.”

“Well, at least Resa McConaghy thinks it’s a good thing.”

“You saw her post?”

“I sure did. t was terrific so let’s go celebrate.”

“No pizza, right?”

“Just hops and barley.”

“Music to my tastebuds.”

”

 

 

Out of coffee beans was the message on the machine. Time to switch from Columbian to French Roast. Filling the reservoir brought a tweak of excitement in anticipation of a new dark roast flavor. Sure enough, when the process is activated, the machine seems to be in a similar frame of mind. No hesitation, and within seconds, the 10 ounces of life-saving Elixer was delivered into the cup.

With a shaking hand, the cup reaches the mouth for the first sip of the unique blend. Slowly the brain picks up the cues of deep taste, aroma, and mind-altering chemical rush. Yes, indeed, this is heaven on Earth.

Sitting with the coffee and laptop and just starting to go through the day’s mail, there was a crash sound that seems like what a falling bus would sound like if it landed in the backyard. Why that sound is familiar is a piece of irony and a story for another time.

Getting up from my comfort and hazarding a look into the backyard, there was no surprise in seeing a big yellow iron bus buried up to the hubcaps in the turf. A sigh escaped my lips since it appears that an investigation would be necessary. “First finish the coffee” was an order from the brain department. A second or two after returning to my seat, the doorbell rings.

What the hell good is it to put a sign on the doorbell not to ring it when every Tom, Dick, and Harry ignores the sign? Theseare the thoughts as I pull Twiggy and Lucy from the ceiling. The front door requires a disarming procedure which takes a few minutes. The door finally gives way, and a stranger asks. “Have you seen a bus anywhere around here?”

“Elmer Fudd?” The question shoots out of my mouth before the brain can catch it. The answer is a surprise. The character declines to admit he is Elmer Fudd but hands me an envelope and tips his hunting hat. “That Waskely Wabbit took my bus, and if you see it or him, tell him he is on the menu for tonight.”

Rather than get involved, I thanked Elmer for the envelope and slowly shut the door. The bus will have to wait while the envelope receives full attention. No surprise, it is from Linda Hill with a message inside. The message reads. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “iron(y).” Use “iron,” use “irony,” or use both. Use them any way you’d like. Bonus points if you use both. Have fun!

If you would like to have fun, just go to Linda’s blog and read how. Here is the link.

https://lindaghill.com/2022/06/03/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-4-2022/

Iron(y) by John W. Howell © 2022

“So you burned up all our time with that silly story.”

“Had to be told.”

“Iron bus in the backyard.”

“Funny visual, wouldn’t you say.”

“Good thing there is no fact-checker on this blog.”

“It’s fiction, remember.”

“Yeah, but a falling bus.”

“The irony here is how do you get a bus out of your backyard?”

“Let’s not even go there. so the prompt is iron?”

“Iron and irony. Got em both. Bonus cha-ching.”

“Which reminds me.”

“Of what.”

“Iron City beer. Ever hear of it?”

“Of course. The producer is from Pittsburgh.”

“Think we can get some?”

“The pub master can certainly tell us.”

“The irony is we need someone to tell us if the beer is available.”

“Rather than what?”

“Sitting drinking it.”

“Good point. Let’s go.”

 

Back home after a week of family and fun, looking forward to sipping the hot frothy beverage that has been hailed through the centuries as one of the pillars of life. The machine finally presents me with ten ounces of heaven, and a stroll in the garden is top on the list.

Disengaging the security system, flipping the machine gun tower switch to stand by, powering back the concertina wire, and disarming the claymore mines renders the backyard clear for a walk.

Passing the array of flowers gives new meaning to the word “home.” It is clear that rest is a welcome thing after a journey of a thousand gins. While admiring a particularly gorgeous rose, a sense of not being alone comes over me. A quick turn brings me face to face with a Cheshire Cat smoking a hookah while drifting about three feet off of terra firma.

“You, John?” A funny question coming from a cat. The short reply, “yes,” seems to satisfy its curiosity since its smile becomes more extensive. The cat takes a drag of the hookah pipe and hands me an envelope. A Thanks to the cat is met by a nod and puff of smoke. Once the air is clear, that cat is nowhere to be found.

I open the envelope, and inside is a message from Linda Hill, which reads, Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “clear.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!

If you would like to enjoy this frivolity, visit Linda Hill’s blog and read how easy it is. Here is the link, https://lindaghill.com/2022/05/20/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-may-21-2022

Clear by John W. Howell © 2022

“Clear.”

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready to start my airplane engine. You always yell out the window to ensure everyone knows to stay away from the propeller.”

“I don’t see an airplane.”

“I know. It’s my imagination.”

“Like that Cheshire Cat?”

“Exactly.”

“I’m starting to worry about you. It’s clear you are having some kind of event.”

“I’m just making sure I have the prompt covered.”

“I think you are in the clear on that.”

“Oh, thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment. You have me concerned.”

“Why?”

“Those tales about machine guns and concertina wire. I think you have some kind of bout with paranoia.”

“You wouldn’t think that if you had to put up with the characters that come a calling on Saturday.”

“Delusional.”

“Huh?”

“Another issue getting harder to bear.”

“Sounds good.”

“What?”

“A beer.”

“I said bear.”

“Where?”

“Just shoot me. Okay, I give. Who’s buying?”

“Whoever said beer first.”

“You.”

“Okay, I’ll need to raise some cash. Know anyone who wants to buy a slightly used Cheshire Cat?”

“Never mind. I’ll buy.”

 

 

Getting past the coffee prep gave me zero problems. Sipping the fresh brew caused me to believe that there would be zilch to worry about on this beautiful Saturday morning. Then, as my feet hit the footstool on the back porch, the zip of a figure passed the corner of my eye. Thinking it, another eye floater caused a return to the peaceful reverie and aromatic cup.

“Excuse me.” The words crashed into my consciousness like a hammer through the front window. Looking at the figure before me sent a register to the brain that this was no floater but a person in overalls.

“Yes?” Was all that could be mustered as a response.

“We have a delivery for Fiction Favorites.”

Shaking my head to try and understand how this person got over the moat, past the towers, and through the concertina wire, words did not immediately form for delivery. Then, finally, the words lined up in some semblance of order and marched out of my mouth. “I am Fiction Favorites.” is how they presented themselves.

The guy in overalls nodded and then spoke into a phone, indicating that they had reached the right place. It was only then that the realization of a hovering helicopter came into focus. At least that answered the question of how the security was breached. A mental note was made to the effect of installing antiaircraft systems to prevent such an occurrence again.

After a few more words, a large box descended from the helicopter and gently landed on the turf. The guy handed me a clipboard pointing to a signature line. Being a victim of being told what to do forever, my signature was proffered as directed. The guy grabbed a line and was yanked into the belly door, and the entire machine disappeared.

I pulled the string that said “pull to open,” and about 100 multicolored balloons went skyward. Such a sight brought a smile while reaching for the note on the bottom of the box. It was, of course, from Linda Hill, and here’s what it said. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “zip, zero, zilch.” Use one, use ’em all, bonus points if you use all three. Have fun!

If you would like to have fun, go to Linda’s blog and read how easy t is. Here is the link.

https://lindaghill.com/2022/04/29/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-april-30-2022/

Zip Zero Zilch by John W. Howell © 2022.

“Did you find out who the guy in overalls was?”

“No. It didn’t matter. I got the prompt.”

“Sometimes, you have zero sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you think your readers would like to know?”

“I think their interest would be zilch.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The whole idea is the prompt. It means zip on who delivers it.”

“Not from what I read when a Warner brothers character shows up.”

“Well, that’s different.”

“How so?”

“Those characters are loved. This was a guy making a delivery.”

“From a helicopter.”

“There is that, I guess.”

“Did you  get any markings on the helicopter?”

“No. There wasn’t time.”

“What’s this about antiaircraft systems?”

“Fictional license.”

“Like the rest?”

“Yup.”

“Is VooDooRanger real?”

“You bet.”

“Your turn to buy.”

“I didn’t mention something.”

“What?”

“There were 24 bottles of VooDoo Ranger in the box.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope, and a box of Hanover sourdough hard pretzels.”

“You get paid for these endorsements.”

“No, I just know what I like.”

“Okay, then let’s go.”

“French onion or France?”

“Pardon me?”

“Dip. What kind to go with the pretzels?”

“Where do you get dips.”

“Same place as the VooDoo Ranger.”

“French onion.”

“Good choice.”

“Can we go now?”

“After you.”

 

The red light and warning buzzer momentarily freezes my brain. The spots before my eyes are alternating with the red flashes to the point that being able to sort out the confusion was a longer process than necessary. Finally, the logic caught up with the visual effects of alternating red bursts. The coffee machine needed a descaling.

A fate almost matching a blue screen computer event sends the message to all points of the body – NO CAFFEINE.  Reason eventually prevails, and a punch of the reset button yields one more ten-ounce cup of soothing syrup. “No more till the descale,” is the warning. Sure, sure is the thought. The event is to be forgotten for 24 more hours.

Taking a life-affirming sip of the foamy hot stuff almost causes a miss of the Ring Doorbell notification. Checking my phone shows a blurry figure obviously moving fast. Opening the front door presents a challenge. Rolling aside the chest of drawers, clicking off the deadbolts, disarming the pepper spray, unlocking the latch, removing the chains, lifting the heavy timber, and carefully moving the concertina wire, the door is ready to open.

It has to be done quickly since the creature could still be standing there. Quickly is as quickly does, and before me is a huge egg. It has lovely decorations and pastel colors. My nose tells me it is an Easter egg. The opposing mental noes try to tell me it could be a bomb. Resisting those negative thoughts, I knock on the egg with full confidence that it knows the intent of being here. The egg falls open, and inside is a lifetime supply of Jelly Bellys. There is also a note. It reads. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “nose/noes/knows.” Use one, use ’em all, bonus points if you use all three. Have fun!

If you want to have fun, visit Linda Hills’ blog and read how easy it is. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2022/04/15/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-april-16-2022/

Nose/Noes/Knows by John W. Howell © 2022

“So you got the bonus points?”

“Yup. Put them in my Bentley Turbo account.”

“Never heard of that.”

“A Bentley Turbo? You’re kidding.”

“No, not the car. The fact that you can redeem Linda Hill bonus points for a Bentley.”

“Have you heard of anyone saying I can’t?”

“Well…No. But that’s not the point.”

“What’s the point?”

“You thinking you can take something as worthless as a Linda Hill bonus and converting it to a $300,000 car.”

“I don’t see what you are getting at.”

“Those bonus points are made up. There’s no market for them.”

“Like bitcoin?”

“Huh?”

“Show me a bitcoin.”

“I can’t. They are digital units of exchange.”

“Uh-huh. You have any?”

“No, they are too expensive.”

“So, what makes you believe they exist?”

“There is an exchange. They are traded. Everyone knows that.”

“So if I tell you there is a Linda Hill Bonus Point Exchange, you’ll admit they have value?”

“Uh, I guess so, but my nose tells me you are making that up.”

“So I can get rid of your noes, call this number.”

“Why?”

“To speak to someone on the Linda Hill Bonus Point Exchange.”

“For heaven’s sake. Never mind. I believe you. It’s not worth the trouble. I’ll just humor your fantasy.”

“Suit yourself. I’m going to the bar.”

“Your turn to buy.”

“I have a bonus point.”

“What does that  mean?”

“I’m going to buy our beer with a bonus point. I have to warn you, though.”

“About what?”

“One bonus point is worth 500 beers.”

“Can you get change?”

“Sadly no.”

“Oh my, what a dilemma. Whatever shall we do with 500 beers?”

“A believer.”

 

How to begin this week’s post is a conundrum. A start with a cup of coffee is always a smart thing. While waiting for the magic machine to pump out the life-giving elixir, contemplation can occur. Perhaps a mnemonic device is needed. Maybe a nonsensical phrase will work. How now, brown cow comes to mind. A rejection that phrase comes quickly since it provides no stimulus at all.

The coffee is ready, and so is the tone on my cell phone, indicating an incursion into the optical monitoring space on the front porch. The image on the phone is blurred, which then necessitates a physical check at the front door. Throwing back the deadbolt, turning the electronic lock to open, raising the steel bar, disengaging the electrical shock guard, the front door is ready to open.

A final check through the peephole indicates the porch area is vacant. The situation seems safe to open the door. Hand on the knob and a gentle tug inward exposes the inside to the outside. In the brightness of the sunlight, an image stands ready to engage.

“Have you seen that wascally wabbit?”

Yes, how it happened is a mystery, but before stands Elmer Fudd, shotgun and all. My question tumbles out of my mouth. “How did you get here?”

Fudd just stands there and blinks. There is reason to believe he has no idea how he got here either. He finally hands me a note and says, “Tell that wabbit I’m on his twail.” A nod from me, and Elmer turns and walks away.

The note is predictable and still leaves me with the question, How does Linda Hill get these things into these characters’ hands? Here is what it says. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “how.” Use the word “how” in your post. Bonus points if you start your post with it. Enjoy!

If you want to participate, you can go to Linda’s blog and read how easy it is. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2022/04/08/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-april-9-2022/

How by John W. Howell © 2022

“We have to make this short.”

“Why?”

“Cause you ate up all the time with that stupid Elmer Fudd story.”

“I thought it was cute.”

“Cause you own this dump.”

“What side of the bed did you get up on?”

“How I get out of bed has nothing to do with anything.”

“Your bed is against the wall, right?”

“How did you know?”

“Just a wild guess given your reaction to my get out of bed question.”

“Let’s forget the bed, okay? I can’t believe how you divert the discussion.”

“So, what do you want to talk about?”

“Ever hear of beer.”

“Your one-track obsession, you mean?”

“Better than messing up a perfectly good prompt.”

“How did I mess it up? I started the post with the word “how” and used it.”

“Dragging that poor character in kicking and screaming.”

“He was on the porch.”

“You really believe this stuff don’t you?”

“What choice do I have?”

“Buying me a beer is a great alternative.”

“Okay, but it is just an experiment.”

“Of what.”

“To see if beer is a better alternative to fiction.”

“You admit it then?”

“Sure. By the way, can Elmer come too?”

“Gad. You are buying. Bring anyone you want. Let’s just go.”

 

 

Some mornings the wait for the 10 oz cup of salvation can be agonizing. It may be a matter of not sleeping well or too late to hit the rack. Whatever the reason, standing like a monk with a begging bowl, bed hair shadow casting, blinking sand-filled eyes is not a good look.

Eventually, the steaming brew is brought full measure, and only the heat keeps it from being consumed like a beer bong on spring break. It arrives just as the end of the emotional rope is metaphorically reached. With shaking hands, the libation is raised to the lips, and a small sip is accompanied by an imaginary Young Frankenstein-like yell of “It’s alive.”

Brain finally engaged, it is time to turn to the business of the day. It is Saturday, after all, and by tradition, something mystifying will be found in the yard. Checking the Ring doorbell camera brings a satisfying all, clear in the scope of vision.

Then a sound like the TV has been left on reaches my ear. Looking into the backyard, a bright yellow cartoon canary is sitting on the fence. Opening the rear door, “I tot I saw a puddy tat,” message is clearly understood. Yes, it is true Tweety Bird is sitting on my fence. If so, Sylvester can’t be far away.

A tap on my shoulder sends me and my coffee into a ten-foot altitude record. Carefully positioning my cup captures most of the live-giving fluid as we hit the ground. “Excuthse me, sir, but I have a messssthage from Linda Hill.”

Having never met Sylvester before, the fact that he is six feet tall was totally unappreciated by me. He handed me a piece of wet paper, and he and Tweety disappeared.

The message reads: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “rope.” Use it as a noun or a verb. Have fun!

If you would like to have fun, visit Linda’s blog and read how easy it is. Here is the link. /https://lindaghill.com/2022/03/25/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-26-2022/

Rope by John W.Howell © 2022

“So you did it again.”

“What?”

“Brought in a couple of cartoon characters and then dropped them.”

“No, I didn’t drop them.”

“What was the point?”

“They carried the prompt.”

“Why did they say so little?”

“Had to keep within SAG rules. More dialogue equals more money.”

“You pay them?”

“What do you think?”

“Yeah, that’s right. You write fiction.”

“Bingo.”

“What about the prompt?”

“Have you had enough?”

“Good point. I’m at the end of my rope.”

“And ready for a nice cold beer.”

“You could rope me in for that.”

“So now we have taken care of the prompt and can go.”

“No sweeter words were ever spoken.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Given the circumstances, if you were me, you would.”

“You’re buying.”

“Gladly. Let’s go.”

 

 

 

Walking toward the coffee maker in the kitchen, a flash out of the corner of my eye caused me to look out the window into the backyard. Sure enough, something had fallen onto the turf. Not wanting to hallucinate, the decision is made to get coffee and then investigate the object.

The machine did its thing, and after several sips of the frothy caffeine-laden liquid, it was time to venture to what should be an astounding discovery. Reaching for the rear doorknob, a text message on my phone caused a momentary distraction. It was a text from the Bellagio Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. They offer to comp a room for five nights provided; I bring bags of money to “invest.”

Setting the text aside in my mind, the problem of what landed in the yard had to be addressed. Being cautious out of fear of three-dimensional cartoon characters, the approach to the object could only be described as serpentine. Finally reaching what appears to be a pile of fabric, it occurs that this cannot be connected to cartoons and looks like a banner towed behind an airplane. Unrolling the banner took some energy and space. It was a huge message from Linda Hill. (of course) When finally unrolled, it said. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “comp.” Find a word that starts with or contains “comp” and use it in your post. Enjoy!

If you would like to enjoy, visit Linda’s blog and read how easy it is to join this group. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2022/03/18/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-19-2022/

Comp. by John W. howell © 2022

“Where did the complicated banner come from?”

“I have no idea. I think it fell off the back of an airplane. Maybe the attachment was compromised.”

“It is a complex situation. ”

“You are unusually complimentary today.”

“I only mean that it is hard to comprehend a banner falling into the yard.”

“I think to complete the prompt, that’s the only thing that could happen.”

“I guess you are right. The action has to be compatible with the post.”

“I’m glad you can comprehend that fact.”

“Compassion is my middle name.”

“I’m worried that you would use compassion as a component of your understanding.”

“It just is one of the comprised emotions.”

“You have other companions?”

“Yeah, like compensate.”

“What do you mean, compatriot?”

“Skip the comp words, and let’s go drink. You’re buying.”

“Compulsiveness, I love it. Let’s go.”

“That’s the last one, right?”

“Completely.”