The drill is to open a book to a random page and then, without looking, point to a place on the page. The word or words nearest the pointing finger becomes the prompt.

Today I opened The Last Drive to page 163, and my finger landed close to “The Beautiful One.”

The Beautiful One by John W. Howell © 2023

“I’m so jealous.”

“Of what, dear sister.”

“You get to go to parties and have a good time.”

“You can do the same if you wish.”

“Not likely.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Look at me.”

“And I see a lovely young woman.”

“You are saying that ’cause you know that I’m plain.”

“I wish you would quit saying that. You are not plain. You have a wonderful body and personality to match.”

“You are such a good sister. You know the right things to say.”

“Why don’t you come out with me tonight.”

“You know I can’t.”

“We’ll get someone to come in.”

“That won’t help. She gets frightened around strangers.”

“You know mom should be put in a home.”

“That is never going to happen.”

“I know I’ll stay home and keep you company.”

“That won’t help. You should go. Your beauty should not be wasted here.”

“I know what I’m about to say you will argue with me about.”

“What’s that?”

“You are the beautiful one.”

“I will argue with you on that.”

“I’ll fix popcorn, and we can argue during a movie.”

So the drill is randomly opening a book and pointing to a page without looking. The word or words closest to the pointing finger is the prompt. Today the book is The Last Drive, opened to page 253. The word closest to the finger is “someone.”

Someone by John W. Howell © 2023

“Why are you sitting here?”

“Excuse me, but what business is it of yours?”

“When I see someone out in the middle of nowhere, I have to ask. Who knows, maybe you are in trouble.”

“I can assure you, I’m not in trouble.”

“Okay, then back to my original question.”

“And back to my question. What business is it of yours?”

“I guess you have enough cheek to make it on your own, no matter the trouble.”

“Okay, you have that Good Samaritan look. If you must know, I’m waiting for someone.”

“How long have you been waiting?”

“Does every question breed a new question?”

“Curious, I guess.”

“If I told you how long, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

“Niney-two years.”

“You are right. You can’t be more than twenty.”

“Looks can be deceiving.”

“So I’ve been told. Well, I’m going to leave you now. Good luck in your wait.”

“The wait is over.”

“What do you mean.”

“I was waiting for you.”

“That’s a laugh. I don’t know you.”

“We have never met, but you know me.”

“How’s that?”

“My name’s Michael. Ring a bell?”

“I’ve known a lot of Michaels.”

“How about the one you asked to save that little boy?”

“Uh.”

“Or the one you called upon when the hurricane hit.”

“The Angel Michael?”

“Pleased to meet you.”

“So my time is up?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Today is my 92nd birthday, and I have no idea what I’m doing in the middle of nowhere.”

“Well, pops. You are correct. A new adventure is waiting.”

 

The idea is to randomly open a book and, without looking, point to a page. The word or words closest to your pointing figure becomes the prompt. Today we opened The Last Drive to page 31, and the word nearest my finger is “curls.”

Curls by John W. Howell © 2023

Thinking hard today has been difficult. I’m not sure if it is the high humidity or some kind of star alignment. In any case, when I opened my eyes and looked at the word “curls” near my finger, my mind froze. This is not just the momentary fleeting freeze usually associated with panic. No, this is the garden hose washing all the chalk off the driveway kind of freeze. A blank slate of emptiness freeze. (Final metaphor) It is an empty canyon with three echos freeze. In short, I had nothing.

Usually, taking a quick walk around can be done to thaw the mind. So after a three-mile bike ride, the feeling returns to the old mind. So now, let’s talk about curls.

I think the best way to handle the prompt is to tell a little story.

Once upon a time, there was a very strong man. He would work out in the gym building his muscles. He would do curls with heavy weights to develop his arms. His legs were strengthened by running and more weight work. All this exercise had one objective: to allow him to ride the curls of waves with his surfboard. He loved his surfboard and would spend hours waxing it and admiring the curls in the wood. One day while he was sitting on the beach, he couldn’t help but notice a fellow surfer riding the waves. She placed herself on the front of her board, allowing her toes to make curls over the leading edge. The effect was increased speed and control. When she finished and was making her way to the beach, he decided he needed to talk to her about the style she used. Getting closer, he noticed her wet hair hung in curls and framed her beautiful smile. He greeted her with a grin and an upbeat good morning. The two chatted and found much in common and spent the rest of the day together until the dusk curls of the clouds indicated that the day was done.

Well, that is it. But, yes, they developed a relationship and now live in Santa Monica, California, with their two kids and a dog.

I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading.

So the idea is to open a book randomly and then, without looking, point to a page. The word or words nearest the pointing figure is the prompt. Today I opened The Last Drive to page 201, and my finger landed on “expression.”

Expression by John W. Howell © 2023

“Say that again.”

“Like a duck on a Junebug.”

“What’s that supposed to mean.”

“It’s an expression for someone leaping at opportunity quickly.”

“Where did it come from?”

“I suppose someone watched a duck go after a Junebug and put the expression together.”

“I have another question.”

“Shoot.”

“Will everyone understand the expression?”

“What do you mean?”

“Unless you saw a duck go after a Junebug, it would be hard to visualize.”

“That’s where imagination takes over.”

“You need to explain that.”

“I don’t think someone would have to have seen a duck go after a Junebug to imagine how fast it would be.”

“And the idea that the Junebug is such a tasty treat that the duck would be quick.”

“Now you got it.”

“Horse pucky.”

“Huh?”

“You ever taste a Junebug?”

“Can’t say I ever have.”

“Well, I was doing some gliding, and one hit me in the mouth. The worst thing I ever tasted.”

“So?”

“Using a duck for an expression without consulting a duck takes poetic license too far. ”

“You are now nitpicking the expression.”

“The expression has no nits cause it has no fleas.”

“You are picking fly specs out of pepper.”

“Who does that?”

“Given our conversation, you would be capable, but it’s just an expression.”

“All these expressions are not based on fact.”

“No, but imagine someone doing those things.”

“Beyond my capabilities.”

“Why?”

“Cause I’m a duck. You should know that ’cause you’re one too.”

“I keep forgetting.”

“Gotta stop reading blogs.”

“I think you’re right. So let’s hit the pond.”

 

 

 

After hanging up from the oxymoronic customer care representative of the coffee machine company, it is apparent the next scene would be me screaming for help. It seems the machine needs a reboot which will take two hours to completely reset. Two painful hours before the first cup of the day. Thoughts turn to grinding beans in the blender and boiling water. Maybe even chewing a few while the clock moves as if it were invented by a tortoise.

As luck would have it, The Producer plans for such a disasters and produces a mug of hot steaming ersatz Columbian from a jar. Any port in the storm is my motto, and after a sip, the worry over caffeine availability is dispelled. A mental note on the purchase of cold brew is recorded to avoid this scene in the future.

Now that the head is clear, the subject of the monolith on the porch must be resolved. The security shutdown process is begun. The claymore mines disarmed. The tower machine guns are placed on standby. The boiling oil vat is secured. The moat net retracted. The concertina wire rolled back. The trebuchet secured. The gate lifted. The locks and deadbolts reset. The front door opened.

The tall box is still there. Walking around, it gives no clue as to its contents. An ear placed on it reveals no sound. Turning toward the porch once again, the sides of the box suddenly drop to unveil a statue in the likeness of Roger Rabbit. He is standing with a defiant expression and his finger pointing toward my front door.

Moving closer, a small sign hangs on the finger that says, “Pull me.” Having had a bunch of Wiseacre friends, I know that direction will never be followed. Further observation of the stature reveals little tiny words etched in Roger’s overalls. The words became clear with the help of a magnifier (which was in my robe pocket). They were from Linda Hill and stated, Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “scene.” Use it any way you like. Have fun!

If you want to have fun, visit Linda’s blog and read how easy it is. You will also see how others handled the prompt. Here’s the link. https://lindaghill.com/2023/04/21/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-april-22-2023/

Scene by John W. Howell © 2023

“So, where did the statue come from?”

“I guess Linda Hill.”

“There has to be a story there.”

“Well, since there has been an arrival of a statute of a major star on the scene, I hope so.”

“That was a funny movie.”

“It was made in 1988. Thirty-five years ago.”

“Wow, that is hard to believe.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“The graphics were terrific.”

“Imagine if they made it now.”

“Would be even better.”

“I’m wondering if the jokes would still be okay.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t recall if any were offensive.”

“Yeah, I don’t know either.”

“One thing’s sure.”

“What’s that?”

“They didn’t have VooDoo Ranger back then.”

“I wondered how long this scene would go before you brought up VooDoo Ranger.”

“My guess thirty seconds.”

“Call Uber.”

“Already ordered. There he is.”

“That’s a dump truck.”

“Discounted fare.”

“Oh.”

The prompt is found by opening a book to a random page and, without looking, point to the page. The word or words closest to the pointing finger is the prompt. Today, I opened The Last Drive to page 205, and when I opened my eyes, the word invisible was nearest my finger.

Invisible by John W.Howell © 2023

This may appear to be an implausible story made up in the mind of someone who clearly needs professional help. Let me unequivocally state that everything that is said here is the truth. In fact, I’m so grateful that the staff allowed you to interview me. It’s no secret that my being here is a total miscarriage of justice. When your story is published, all of America will see I have been wrongly accused. What’s that? Start at the beginning?

You are aware that I am the foremost biological researcher in academia today. However, you may not be aware that I discovered a compound that, when ingested, brings about a state of invisibility in organic material. I can assure you that my experiments on plants and animals proved to all who would read my findings that it was now possible for complete stealth. Think what this would mean to an army of totally invisible warriors. They would be unstoppable.

Of course, my compound could also be used for ill-gotten gains in the wrong hands. Think of a burglar being able to walk freely undectected into a home. Likewise, a bank robber could enter a bank vault and help himself. This is why the formula must be protected with the utmost security.

I hope your story will include warnings to authorities to make sure protection is paramount. As far as the unfortunate subjects who succumbed to the experiments, they should be memorialized. I can give you their names; they should be treated as heroes in the cause. It did take some time to work out the safety profile. I deeply regret their sacrifice. But wait, we have just begun. Where are you going?

* * *

“Well, did you get the story you were looking for?”

“He believes he did a good thing and thinks he’s discovered a way to make people invisible.”

“That’s why he is in here. So you’re convinced he’s not a political prisoner?”

“Not only that, but I think he is certainly a mental case.”

“So, your story?”

“There is no story. He’s a serial killer who poisoned many people, and that’s that. Will he ever be cured?”

“Hard to say. There are days he thinks he is invisible too.”

“That must be hard.”

“No, he is well-behaved when he thinks no one can see him. Come with me. I’ll escort you to the main gate.”

It works this way. I open a book at random and point to the page. The word or words closest to my finger becomes the prompt. Today I opened The Last Drive randomly to page 49. My finger was closest to the word ‘was.’ Since it was part of a quote, I decided to use the whole sentence.

Was He Young or Old? by John W. Howell © 2023

“How do I know?”

“Let’s not make this more difficult.”

“I don’t know anything.”

“Look, you were the only one there when the store was held up. Surely you can give me that simple description.”

“Sorry, but I didn’t get your name.”

“Detective Simpson.”

“Okay, detective. Have you ever looked down the barrel of a 357 magnum?”

“So that was the kind of gun he was using?”

“The point is, sir, I’m not even sure it was a he let alone old or young.”

“Yeah can be pretty scary. Was the face covered?”

“All I saw was the sight on the front of that gun, and I emptied the register and got on the floor like he said.”

“So it was a male.”

“Now that I think about it, the voice sounded like a male.”

“Young voice or old voice?”

“Youngish, I guess.”

“About your age, do you think?”

“I suppose.”

“Was he a friend of yours?”

“What makes you ask that?”

“The security company just sent me the video feed and you two look pretty friendly.”

“Vido feed? I thought the system was down.”

“Your boss wanted you to think that. He’s suspected you of petty theft for a while. So now it looks like grand larceny. Who is your accomplice?”

“You have the video. You find him.”

“Won’t be hard.”

“Why’s that.”

“Looks like he dropped his driver’s license in all the excitement. According to his address you and he are roommates.”

“I want a lawyer.”

“I think you’re going to need one.”