If there was ever a need for coffee, it is now. Fingers drumming on the counter fail to rush the dreaded AI in charge of brewing the life-restoring beverage. Finally, a wheeze indicates that the aromatic liquid will begin its journey from the bowels of the fickle machine to my very welcoming cup. Yes, the trickle has started, and soon, the crema layer will form. Time for a sip and new awareness of the need for the clock.

Clock in hand set for March 30, 1924 for a duration of two hours. The plunger is pulled and we are tansported to Toledo Ohio. The US has enacted the eighteenth constitutional amendment that bans the sale and consumption of alcohol.

We have arrived in Toledo to witness the tradegy of 12 people poisened to death consuming denatured alcohol at a party. Denatured alcohol is used as a solvent and has additives that when injested are fatel. The police shief says it is a shame these folks didn’t know that they were drinking poisen. “It’s plain to see that whoever organized this party is responsible for these deaths.”

The alarm goes off and like a flying plane my carcuss is lofted to the couch for a soft landing. My text signal goes off and I see it is from Linda Hill. It reads:Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “plain/plane.” Use one, use ’em both, bonus points if you get ’em both in your post. Have fun! If you would like to see what other bloggers do with the prompt visit Linda’s post. Here is the link: https://lindaghill.com/2024/03/29/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-30-2024/

Plain/Plane by John W. Howell © 2024

“Well you got the bonus points.”

“Yes I did.”

“You sure hauled out of there though.”

“I made a slight miscalulation on the time.”

“Well, that explains it.”

“Sad about those people.”

“Yeah. There was a lot of that.”

“It was plain stupid to drink that stuff.”

“Thos people ended up on a different plane.”

“Not like good old Voo Doo Ranger.”

“Speaking of which.”

“Ordered the Uber. It’s right over there.”

“Goodness what is that?”

“A 1906 Stanley Gentlemans Speedy Runabout.”

“How in the heck did you find that one.”

“The Stanley company went out of business in1924. I thought it would be a good tie-in to your post.”

“Okay then. Let’s go.”

“I call the running board.”

“Well if that’s what you want, you got it.”

Come on, Columbian soothin’ syrup. Flow out those two spigots and give me the help I need to enable the thinking process. Oh, look, the liquid happiness is flowing. All I need is a sip, and the memories of this glorious room will return. Here is the sip. AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

Here are the memories: The ceilings and windows give the feeling of the out of doors. When we moved in, the only piece of furniture we had was a futon. We sold our other place at the coast, which was fully furnished, so we had nothing. We bought the futon, knowing it would soon be gifted to the Salvation Army. Two people and two dogs were very cozy on that futon until the new furniture arrived.

We have been here for five years, and the room has changed slightly. The couches have been lowered twice: once for Twiggy’s rehabilitation from surgery and lately to keep Tempeste the puppy from running under them and doing things that should be done outside. The rug has been changed, and new art has been installed.

The room is the center of the home and is where we spend most of our time. The time clock is going to wait for next week since the word count is getting close to the limit. My text alert tells me Linda Hill has sent the prompt. It reads: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “Memories of the room you’re in.” Write about a memory of the room (or park, or gym, or where ever you are) you’re in when you write your post. Enjoy!

To see what other bloggers have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link: https://lindaghill.com/2024/03/22/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-23-2024/

Memories of the Room You’re In by John W. Howell © 2024

“How did you guys get along without furniture?”

“As weird as it sounds, we did quite well.”

“Where did you sit to eat?”

“We have a large kitchen counter that has room for seats. Our daughter loaned us bar stools.”

“Dishes?”

“Yeah, we brought a set from the coast.”

“Where did you sleep?”

“We bought a mattress and put it on the bedroom floor.”

“Why did you need a futon?”

“We didn’t have a place to sit, and it worked like a couch.”

“Was it long before the furniture arrived?”

“It was all special order, so it took some time. We found a couple of pieces by going to stores.”

“Sounds ghastly.”

“It was a good memory. Of course, being in my late 70s, getting up from the mattress was a challenge.”

“I can imagine.”

“Speaking of challenge, you haven’t mentioned VooDoo Ranger.”

“I guess I’ve been busy thinking of this old guy getting out of bed and trying to stand up.”

“Yeah, it was fun. I could have used a crane.”

“Speaking of.”

“Oh no.”

“Look at our Uber lift.”

“When you say ‘lift,’ that’s an understatement.”

“You like it then?”

“Dan Antion would love it. Yes, I like it. Looks like we both can ride in the cabin.”

“Can you imagine the looks when we get to the pub?”

“For fun, I think we should tell them we are here to raise the roof.”

“You know, for you, that was pretty good. Are you taking pills or something?”

“Just high on life, my friend. Let’s go.”

The machine diligently produces the mind-saving elixir that is the legal import of Columbia. The beans are ground, tamped, and scalded with boiling water to give me what I need most: that first cup of coffee. With it in hand, the clock is set to March 16th, 1924. The location is the port city of Fiume on the Adriatic Sea, and the time is set for two hours. The plunger is pulled, and we are there.

We arrive in time for a grand celebration: the city is formally annexed to Italy. Benito Mussolini is present, and King Victor Emmanuel III of Italy reads the annexation proclamation to cheering crowds.

The city’s autonomous municipal government had declared in late October 1918 that Fiume wanted to be annexed to Italy, explaining their reasoning with words like “national self-determination.” Italy had only entered WWI because of promises of territorial expansion along the Adriatic at Habsburg’s expense. Fiume is now named Rijeke and is the third-largest city in Croatia

Fiume was once labeled the center for fascism since Mussolini began his takeover of Italy from there. By pulling the wool over King Victor Emmanuel III’s eyes, he was able to take over the government.

As the crowds cheer, the alarm goes off, and a soft landing on the couch is the result. My text tone lets me know Linda Hill has sent this week’s prompt. The text reads: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “wool.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!

If you want to see what other bloggers have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link: https://lindaghill.com/2024/03/15/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-16-2024

Wool by John W. Howell © 2024

“What do you mean by pulling the wool over King Victor Emmanuel III’s eyes?”

“Mussolini was able to convince the king to place him in the position of head of the government. No election or anything. I would say that was a wool pull.”

“Okay, before your explanation, I envisioned Mussolini holding up a sheep.”

“Not a bad visual for this situation.”

“When did this happen?”

“It was in 1922. 30,000 citizens protested to the king demanding Mussolini be put in charge.”

“So he did.”

“Yup. The king felt his dynasty would be preserved by doing so.”

“Did it help?”

“Well, the king stepped down in 1946 after 46 years on the throne. I would say it helped.”

“All this talk of Kings makes me thirsty.”

“There’s no pulling the wool over my eyes. Did you order the Uber?”

“Yup. Right over there.”

“Wow. That’s a 1963 Studebaker Avanti.”

“It is a beauty, and we get to ride in it.”

“This might be the best ride yet.”

“As you can see, I haven’t been gathering wool.”

“No, I think you scored big on this one. Let’s go.

A new drink today. To test the machine to the maximum, a cappuccino is ordered. A smile on the control panel assures me this was not a challenge for the crafty AI entity inside the machine. After a bunch of hissing and spitting, a lovely signature cappuccino is produced. One sip and it is to the clock. The clock is set for March 9, 1924. The location is the Elysee Palace in France. The duration is two hours. Once the plunger is pulled we find ourselves in a meeting of the French Cabinet..