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.”