The glass touchscreen on the coffee machine is glowing with a soft light. A quick thump of the top brings up the icons. The best guess is the machine was caught sleeping, and, of course, we will never know. A touch of the two coffee button starts the flow of the life-giving elixir that promises to quell the falling Mosler Safe hitting the concrete sound that the lack of caffeine is duplicating in my head.

The first sip does the job. The second sip (Of course) is accompanied by the Westminster chime of the doorbell and the eardrum-bleeding cacophony of Igor’s hounds, Twigy and Tempeste. A toss of a veggie burger into the soundproof room and a slam of the door brings the peace train into the station. A check of the security monitor shows what appears to be Gladstone Gander holding a clipboard and envelope. Since asking anyone to simply leave the envelope has never worked, the security shutdown process is begun.

The B-2 bomber squadron and the F-35 escort must be called off. One call does it. The tank corps and gunboats are told to stand by. The Apache helicopters are rerouted. The electric shock fence is turned off. The drawbridge over the quicksand is lowered. The robot attack dogs returned to their charging station. The laser-guided machine guns on the roof are set to caution. The nest filled with rattlesnakes put away. The bucket filled with 1000 marbles is locked down. The tear gas canisters shut off. The electrified welcome mat set to off. The fall-away sidewalk into the pit filled with spikes is locked. The hornet’s nest closed. The water cannons are set to safety. Bear traps are set to off. Peregrine Falcons perched on the roof above front door fed. The vat of boiling oil set to warm. Monty Python’s Harmless Little Rabbit’s cage is closed. The front door is opened.

Gladstone Gander hands me the clipboard and envelope. The signed clipboard is handed back with a fiver. Once in the house, the envelope reveals a message from Linda Hill. It reads: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “Starts with gl. Find a word that starts with “gl” and use it any way you’d like. Have fun!

To see what others did with the prompt, visit Linda’s post at https://lindaghill.com/2026/08/21/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-august-22-2026/

Starts with GL by John W. Howell © 2026

“So you got the prompt out of the way quickly.”

“Yeah, so fast that Reader Tom probably missed it.”

“Of course there is Reader Jim, to point out what Reader Tom missed.”

“Those two are on it for sure. It seems you know them.”

“Sure do. We worked together in another life.”

“Doing what? Robbing banks?”

“Ha ha ha. No, we were in the drug business.”

“I knew it was some nefarious dealing.”

“Sorry. Just over-the-counter healthcare products.”

“Ah, sorta like VooDoo Rangers.”

“Sorta. You call Uber?”

“Right over there.”

“You have to be kidding me.”

“What’s the problem?”

“We need a ladder to get into that thing.”

“I’m sure there is one in the bed.”

“I hope so. Any other information I should know?”

“That we are going to a dirt truck rally.”

“Swell.”

“It will be fun they said.”

I’m so glad to have this entertainment today.”

“I knew you would be pleased.”

“Not.”

“It will only take a few hours. We have a cooler filled with VooDoo Rangers, too.”

“I’m in.”

“All right, all right, all right.

 

 

 

The coffee machine touchscreen is balled up with different languages. Given the two-year-old beating on pots and pans feeling in my head, it took great restraint to not give in to the bald disappointment of caffeine denial. The machine bawled for someone to help. Pulling the plug and reinserting it turned everything back to normal. The two coffee icon was touched, and the heavenly elixir poured forth.

The first sip sent the kid to the backyard. The second (You know what’s coming) was accompanied by the dual torture of the Westminster Chimes of the doorbell and the glass-cracking din of the hounds of Baskerville trying to bark the intruder to St. Louis. A toss of a wagyu porterhouse steak into the soundproof room, followed by the slamming of the door, reunited the environment to the sound of silence.

A glance at the security monitor showed that the idiot on the porch who can’t read the “Do not ring the doorbell” sign was Br’er Rabbit. With a sigh, the security shutdown process is begun.

The B-2 bomber squadron and the F-35 escort must be called off. One call does it. The tank corps and gunboats are told to stand by. The Apache helicopters are rerouted. The electric shock fence is turned off. The drawbridge over the quicksand is lowered. The robot attack dogs returned to their charging station. The laser-guided machine guns on the roof are set to caution. The nest filled with rattlesnakes put away. The bucket filled with 1000 marbles is locked down. The tear gas canisters are shut off. The electrified welcome mat set to off. The fall-away sidewalk into the pit filled with spikes is locked. The hornet’s nest is closed. The water cannons are set to safety. Bear traps are set to off. Peregrine Falcons perched on the roof above the front door fed. The vat of boiling oil set to warm. The front door is opened.

The rabbit has a clipboard and a letter. He passes them to me, and after signing, it is returned with a fiver, and the advice to watch out for tar babies.

Inside the house, the envelope reveals a message from Dan Antion filling in for Linda Hill, it reads:

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “Bald, Balled, Bawled” Use one. Use two or use them all any way you’d like. If you manage to use all three, I’ll slide you some bonus points. Enjoy!

To see what others have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link.

https://lindaghill.com/2026/08/14/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-august-15-2026/

Bald, Balled, Bawled by John W. Howell © 2026

“Looks like you  got some bonus points.”

“Yeah, I had to work hard for them.”

“It didn’t seem too hard.”

“You weren’t writing the post.’

“A little on edge today, are we?”

“No, but making these prompts work is a little difficult sometimes.”

“Okay, I get that. ”

“Did you also get an Uber?”

“Sure did. It’s right over there.”

“How are we supposed to ride in that?”

“What do you mean? There’s room.”

“I don’t mean room. I’m talking about wind, rain, and bugs.”

“Oh, no problem. Here is an all-weather duster and goggles.”

“Okay, now about the catch.”

“One drag race is all.”

“What?”

“We have to swing by the raceway on the way to the pub.”

“How do you know it’s one race?”

“The driver says he doesn’t expect to win, given that he has older technology.”

“What if he does win?”

“Oh. Then it will be hours.”

“Swell.”

“I’ve packed a cooler with VooDoo Rangers just in case.”

“Now you’re talking. Let’s go to the races.”

The coffee machine is ready for me. A finger on the touchscreen is enough to draw a steaming 8-oz cup of soothin’ syrup. The first sip served to quell the shipyard riveting hammer noise in my head from the lack of caffeine. The second (as we know) is accompanied by the cacaphony of Twiggy and Tempest and their St. Louis-bound barking volume and the Westminster chime of the doorbell.

A sweet treat tossed into the soundproof room, and the slamming of the door brings the peace train back into the station. A look at the security monitor identifies the idiot who can’t read. It is none other than the wolf from the story of ” The Little Red Riding Hood. He is holding a clipboard, an envelope, and a handwritten sign. The sign reads “Open the door, or I’ll huff, and I’ll puff and blow your house down. ” My thought is fat chance, but with a sign, the security shutdown process is begun.

The B-2 bomber squadron and the F-35 escort must be called off. One call does it. The tank corps and gunboats are told to stand by. The Apache helicopters are rerouted. The electric shock fence is turned off. The drawbridge over the quicksand is lowered. The robot attack dogs returned to their charging station. The laser-guided machine guns on the roof are set to caution. The nest filled with rattlesnakes put away. The bucket filled with 1000 marbles is locked down. The tear gas canisters shut off. The electrified welcome mat set to off. The fall-away sidewalk into the pit filled with spikes is locked. The hornet’s nest closed. The water cannons are set to safety. Bear traps are set to off. Peregrine Falcons perched on the roof above front door fed. The vat of boiling oil set to warm. The front door is opened.

The wolf looks pleased and hands over the clipboard and envelope. The board is returned with a signature and a fiver clipped to the top. The wolf curls his lip, so a good word has to be shared before slamming the door. The words given to the wolf were by Victor Hugo: “Even the darkest night will end, and the sun will rise.”

The envelope is from Linda Hill with a message inside. It reads: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “draw.” Use it as a noun, use it as a verb, 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/2026/07/31/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-august-1-2026/

Draw by John W. Howell © 2026

“Did you do the prompt?”

“Of course. It’s in the second  line above.”

“That is very obscure.”

“Well, that is half the fun.”

“For you maybe.”

“I suppose you are right. What kind of Uber do we have today?”

“Today is a lucky draw. Look over there.”

“What is that?”

“Tom says a 1910 Otto Speedster.”

“I see it has plenty of room for us.”

“All we need are goggles and a duster. Here’s yours.”

“Why do I need goggles and a duster?”

“You are sitting in the back.”

“Why’s that?”

“‘Cause I have to navigate from the front.”

“Navigate? It’s not that hard to find the pub.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. We have to compete in the classic Grand Prix at the Austin Circuit of the Americas racecourse.”

“How long will that take?”

“We do just one lab. No more than three hours.”

“Three hours for one lap?”

“We are only doing 30 miles an hour.”

“I give up. Let’s go.”

“It will be fun.”

“They said.”

 

 

Sometimes the coffee machinel ikes to prolong the wrecker ball hitting a metal building sound in my brain due to caffeine withdrawal. My guess is that it is jealous of not being able to walk around. When this happens, a subtle reminder of who is the boss gets things back on track. This morning, a message appeared on the touchscreen.

An immediate thump on the top resolved the problem, and two streams of life-restoring elixir began to flow. The first sip quelled the noise in my head. The second (As seems to be the custom now) is accompanied by the cacaphony of Westminster chimes, Tempest, and Twiggy throwing up their warning barrage. A quick toss of a Wagyu steak into the soundproof room and a door slam brought a kind of hush all over the world. A glance at the security monitor revealed the idiot pushing the doorbell. It was none other than Tiny, the WWF champion, with an envelope and a clipboard. Mrs. Howell didn’t raise a fool, so the security shut-down process began.

The B-2 bomber squadron and the F-35 escort must be called off. One call does it. The tank corps and gunboats are told to stand by. The Apache helicopters are rerouted. The electric shock fence is turned off. The drawbridge over the quicksand is lowered. The robot attack dogs are returned to their charging station. The laser-guided machine guns on the roof are set to caution. The nest filled with rattlesnakes is put away. The bucket filled with 1000 marbles is locked down. The tear gas canisters shut off. The electrified welcome mat set to off. The fall-away sidewalk into the pit filled with spikes is locked. The hornet’s nest closed. The water cannons are set to safety. Bear traps are set to off. Peregrine Falcons perched on the roof above front door fed. The vat of boiling oil set to warm. The front door is open.

No time is wasted in signing the clipboard and passing it back with a $20 attached. A smile curled on Tiny’s lip, and it was hard to tell if he was pleased or simply passing gas. Not waiting to find out, the front door quickly came between Tiny and me. The envelope contains a message from Linda Hill. It reads:

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “sometimes.” Start your post with the word “sometimes.” Have fun!

To see what others have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link: https://lindaghill.com/2026/07/17/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-july-18-2026/

“Sometimes you amaze me with all that preamble before you, and I get to talk.”

“How so?”

“Well, it would be easy just to try and do the prompt and then come down here and lead the discussion up to a VooDoo ranger,”

“You mean without the character and security system shut down?”

“Yes, and throw out the bit with the coffee maker too.”

“That leaves a discussion between us.”

“Exactly. That’s all we need.”

“What about the readers?”

“What about them?”

“Oh, I get it. You think our discussion is the highlight of the post.”

“Call me naive.”

“Let’s just get on to the pub. Uber?”

“Over there.”

“Wow, a 1935 851 Supercharged Auburn Boattail”

“Yup, and three of us will fit.”

“Pretty cramped.”

“That’s okay.”

“So what’s the catch?”

“None.”

“None?”

“Well.”

“I knew it. Tell me.”

“The starter is on the fritz.”

“What does that mean?”

“We have to push it to get it started.”

“Figures. In this heat, too.”

“Here are some cotton gloves.”

“What are they for?”

“So you don’t get body oil and sweat on the paint.”

“I guess it will be worth it.”

“That’s the spirit.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m getting in the car.”

“You aren’t going to help push.”

“There is only one set of gloves.”

“So why aren’t you doing it?”

“Bad back.”

“Of course.”

 

 

 

A piece of sourdough toast with peanut butter and grape jelly will go well with coffee this morning.  The machine gives out a full mug with no complaint, and the toaster follows suit. The first sip of coffee stops the pile-driver effect in my brain from being triggered by dangerously low caffeine levels. Of course, the second sip is accompanied by the crashing sound of a full tray of dishes on a tile floor, which is the combination of the Westminster doorbell and the two four-legged warning barks of Twiggy and Tempeste. A toss of a big bone into the soundproof room and a door slam  brings back precious peace.

A glance at the security monitor tells me I am graced with a visit from Roger Rabbit.  He has an envelope and a clipboard, so conversation is fruitless. With a sigh, the security shutdown process begins.

The B-2 bomber squadron and the F-35 escort must be called off. One call does it. The tank corps and gunboats are told to stand by. The Apache helicopters are rerouted. The electric shock fence is turned off. The drawbridge over the quicksand is lowered. The robot attack dogs returned to their charging station. The laser-guided machine guns on the roof are set to caution. The nest filled with rattlesnakes put away. The bucket filled with 1000 marbles is locked down. The tear gas canisters shut off. The electrified welcome mat set to off. The fall-away sidewalk into the pit filled with spikes is locked. The hornet’s nest closed. The water cannons are set to safety. Bear traps are set to off. Peregrine Falcons perched on the roof above front door fed. The vat of boiling oil set to warm. The front door is opened.

Roger hands me the envelope and the clipboard. Keeping the envelope and returning the clipboard with a fiver attached.  ” Control what you can and let go of the rest,” is my other tip. The envelope has a message from Linda Hill. It reads: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “jelly.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!

To see what others have done with the prompt, visit Linda’s post. Here is the link: https://lindaghill.com/2026/07/10/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-july-11-2026/

Jelly by John W. Howell © 2026

“Roger Rabbit. I haven’t thought about that character in ages.”

“Brings back a memory ot two.”

“Like about Jessica?”

“Well.. Yes.”

“She was a favorite of mine, too. I liked your words of advice.”

“Been useful to me for quite a while.”

“You know what’s useful to me?”

“Let me guess. VooDoo Ranger.”

“You are a genius.”

“Uber?”

“Over there.”

“Goodness. A 1970 300 TD. At least there is enough room for both of us.”

“There is one thing.”

“Of course, there is. What is it?”

“We need to help the owner remove the rust.”

“What? That could take weeks.”

“No we’ll just work on that spot under the left side of the rear window.”

“Above the 300 TD?”

“Yup. That’s it.”

“That doesn’t sound bad.”

“It’s not. Here, take these goggles and respirator.”

“What are those for?”

“The sand blaster.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, the sand blaster makes a lot of dust.”

“I’ve never done a sandblaster before.”

“Nothing to it. Just aim at the rust, and the machine does the rest.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Stand behind the protective glass barrier.”

“Why?”

“So I don’t get hit.”

“Why aren’t you doing the sandblasting?”

“Hey. I arranged the car. Takes these overalls and this blaster. We need to get going.”