While getting ready for a library book appearance this afternoon, there was an envelope on the kitchen counter which had been overlooked. It left from yesterday’s mail delivery. Since it was from my dental insurance provider, opening it seemed to be a good idea. It was from the head of client services, and she wanted to let me know that if I do nothing, my coverage will continue on January 1, 2022.

I felt all warm inside until I saw the date of the letter was October 15. I had to wonder why there was such a delay. This caused me to read further and come to a section that detailed that my premium was not going to change next year. Well, that’s good, was my thought. Then looking at the premium amount, a surprise jumped out. The amount listed was $11.00 more than I thought. With my finger resting on the word ‘premium,’ my other hand went to the web. Sure enough, the amounts were the same.

A further look at payment history showed the price of my premium went up by $11.00 back in May of 2019. “Where the hell have you been?” This was a question that seemed to have no answer. A call to customer service confirmed the increase and the fact that my autopay took care of it.

Disconnecting in a state of stun, the wondering mind turned to all the other autopay accounts, and then the doorbell rang. The first action was getting Twiggy off the ceiling. The second was to look at the ring camera mage, which showed a guy standing there waving an envelope. I spoke to him through the intercom. “Just drop it.” “No can do.” Finally came the reply, “Special delivery.”

I picked up Twiggy and went to open the door. She is visible through the glass doing her Tasmanian devil impersonation while throwing foam left and right. The guy must have had a second thought since he threw down the envelope and broke the Olympic record covering the 100 yards to his truck.

Putting Twiggy back down, making sure she was breathing normally, I retrieved the envelope. Here is what was inside.

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “close eyes and point.” Grab the closest printed material to you when you sit down to write your post, open it up (if it’s a book, flyer, etc.), close your eyes, and point. Whatever your finger lands on, use that as your prompt. Have fun!

If you would like to have, fun visit Linda’s blog and see how easy it is. Here is the link.

/https://lindaghill.com/2021/11/05/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-nov-6-2021/

Premium by John W. Howell © 2021

“Look at you.”

“What?”

“Put your finger on the word premium. You know what you can do with that?”

“I think it’s done.”

“Aw, Naw. You’re not gonna let that story stand as your contribution.”

“I think I am.”

“Come on. You can do a ton of things.”

“Why don’t you write one.”

“What?”

“I said —”

“I know what you said. You must be crazy.”

“Why”

“I don’t write. I review. You know the old adage?”

“Tell me.”

“If you can’t do, review.”

“Please, I heard it a different way.”

“Anyway, I’m a beer expert, not a wordsmith.”

“So get on with your expertise.”

“Premium or lite?”

“Very funny.”

“Maybe I could write.”

“Stick with your strength.”

Since tomorrow is Halloween, I decided to double-check the preparations for the trick or treaters. I put on my boots to avoid inadvertently stepping on any sharp object in the front of the house. The backyard is a barefoot safe zone, but the front is a different matter. It is like the boonies hazard-wise.

A notebook grab off the bookcase made sure the listing of the things needing to be checked was at hand. My first stop was the boogeyman by the front door. The electronic sensor which caused the release of the ghoulish laugh was working perfectly.

Next, the automatic candy dispenser was found to be releasing two Kit Kat bars per perceived visitor instead of one. A quick adjustment and reboot corrected the problem, and rather than open the apparatus to replace the bar, I ate it.

Further down the driveway, I checked the parent’s booze dispenser. Pretending to be a parent, I read the instructions. The machine required entering a birthday to receive a margarita. Although a little early entering my birthday did produce a margarita on the rocks without salt. Not wanting to waste a perfectly prepared margarita, it accompanied me on the final phase of my rounds.

The boombox is cleverly hidden in the bushes and will surprise all who approach the house. It is placed so that it is the first thing encountered by visitors. There is a prerecorded reel with messages. My favorite is the one that says, “Halt, who goes there?” The banshee scream is a good one too.

As I returned to the house, satisfied that the trick or treaters would be well-served without any need to interact, I came upon a bamboo pungy stick. It was stuck in the flower bed with a note attached. The message read, Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “boo.” Find a word with the letters “boo” in it or use “boo” as is and base your post on it. Enjoy!

If you would like to enjoy, visit Linda’s blog and read how. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2021/10/29/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-october-30-2021/

Boo by John W. Howell © 2021

“So you don’t want to meet trick or treaters.”

“Let’s just say I would rather avoid that.”

“Yet you set up all that stuff.”

“Anyone who gets past the boombox and the booz machine is welcome to the Kit Kat. Of course, then there is the ghoul for a final scare. So there will be no loitering.”

“Do trick or treaters ever ring your bell?”

“Big sign there that says not to.”

“What if they do?”

“A loud boom followed by water balloons.”

“You didn’t check that.”

“Works all year on anyone. No need to check.”

“Remind me not to come by tomorrow.”

“Don’t come by.”

“Figure of speech.”

“Just making sure.”

“Beer?”

“How about a margarita instead?”

“Sounds good.”

“Just enter your birthday on the touchpad.”

“You are mad, you know that?”

“Just a little. Cheers.”

It was fortunate to find a nice quiet spot in the park where listening to the birds and enjoying the absence of human voices was possible. Spreading out a blanket fashioned in the design of the tartan of my maternal Grandmother, who was an immigrant from Scotland, made the strange park scene seem like home. Then, settling back and taking a Topo Chico out of the cooler, the process of pecking away at the latest story began.

Out of the corner of my eye, there was a flash, but when looking directly, there was nothing. Since seeing things has been part of my life for eons, a shoulders shrug was followed by a return to work. While typing away, a feeling of not being alone crept over me. You may have had the feeling at one time. You know you want to turn around and look behind you but are very reluctant to do so since it might be something you don’t want to see. It became apparent that the birds felt keeping quiet was the better part of valor in the stillness.

That’s when the hair stood up on my neck, and my flight response kicked into high gear. Not able to move fast enough before being grabbed from behind by a big smelly beast.  Wanting to scream but prevented by a slippery hand sliding over my mouth, cutting off all sound. The calloused hand was wet with a slick substance that had a strong copper odor. Anyone who has read a horror story knows precisely what covered the hand.

The gag response decided to react to the smell, and after several involuntary moves, the beast released its grip.  It threw me to the ground and put a singular finger to its lips accompanied by a widening of the eyes that signaled for me to shut the hell up. Taking the opportunity to size up the beast, the first stunner was the impression that whoever made this thing used several different body parts. Neither arm matched. One was hairy and one smooth. The legs looked like they were taken from a horse. The head resembled a Yeti without the good looks. “What chew lookin’ at bub.” Were the first words spoken. I stammered that I had never seen anything like it before, and it explained that it was the new prototype USPS postal person.

Immediately a thought came to mind about the blood on its hands. It explained that the last delivery was a side of beef, and it had not had a chance to wash up. The thing finally handed me an envelope and inside I found a message from Linda Hill. It read

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “body parts.” Pick a body part and talk about it. Make sure to leave a comment below or put a disclaimer at the top of your post if it’s NSFW! There are people who participate in SoCS and love to support others, but not everyone will want to read about private parts. 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/2021/10/22/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-october-23-2021/

Body Parts by John W. Howell © 2021

“So who made the monster out of body parts?”

“I think the feds.”

“Legs from a horse?”

“Fast delivery.”

“OMG. You have finally flipped.”

“Come on it’s a stupid story.”

“Where did the USPS monster go?”

“Had more rounds.”

“Side of beef?”

“Neither rain, sleet, snow, dead of night, or cow carcass will keep them from their appointed rounds.”

“I need a drink after all that.”

“Should I call the USPS?”

“I think I’m going to use UPS from now on.’

“It’s fiction for heaven’s sake.”

“Just the same.”

“I think I’m going to have a VooDoo Ranger IPA.”

“To go with your warped sense of fiction.”

If I could find the time, I planned to go to the Home Depot and pick up some stain for the fence.  The sad thing was I became so involved in a story that the day got away from me. I was writing a story about a guy wanting to buy a new motorcycle. He was very excited to be going to the motorcycle shop to pick out the new bike. He knew he wanted one in black but was unsure if he wished to use chrome or black trim. His friends all voted for the chrome, but he thought it might be too much.

Finally, the time came for him to start out for his appointment with the sales clerk. For the occasion, he put on his black jeans and Harley t-shirt. He had never owned a Harley but felt the t-shirt might give him some credibility when talking to the clerk. Of course, he knew everything there was to know about Harleys. He had been saving for ten years and studied the bikes since he decided to buy one once he had the money.

Leaving his house and opening the door of his Ford Focus, he noticed a strange vehicle heading his way. It was nothing he had ever seen before on a main street. As the speeding machine got closer, he could make out that it was a giant steam roller that looked like it was out of control. When it jumped the curb and rolled over his Focus, he was left holding what was left of the door. The operator jumped down and thanked him for helping stop the out-of-control menace. The guy was still in shock but nodded to acknowledge the compliment. The operator then handed him an envelope and a card and told him to call the company and his car would be taken care of for sure. The operator walked away. The guy looked at the envelope and had a thought that his car was just as flat. He opened the envelope and here’s what was written on a piece of paper. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “if.” Start your post with the word “If.” Enjoy!

If you would like to enjoy go to Linda Hill’s blog and read how easy it is. Here is the link.

https://lindaghill.com/2021/10/15/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-october-16-2021/

If by John W. Howell © 2021

“If you had not taken all the words, we might have had some fun with the prompt.”

“I guess you didn’t like it.”

“Well, for one. Did the guy get his Harley?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, ‘I don’t know?'”

“I didn’t finish the story.”

“You said it took you all day.”

“Well, some things can’t be rushed.”

“How did the operator know to give the guy the envelope?”

“He was clairvoyant.”

“Come on.”

“Okay, slight plot hole.”

“Slight? You could drive a car through that hole. How wasn’t the guy killed standing there staring at a runaway steam roller like a dope.”

“As I said, he was left with the door. Obviously, the roller missed him.”

“But holding the door, he would’ve been dragged into the wreckage.”

“Apparently not.”

“Dumb story.”

“Thank you. You get to buy the beer because of your sharp review skills.”

“Did you ever get the stain?”

“No.”

“Okay, we’ll stop on the way to the pub.”

“I’m not sure of the color yet.”

“So you never were going to get stain?”

“No.”

“You ought to be in jail for fraud.”

“Poetic license.”

“It should be revoked. Let’s go.”

Being a lovely Saturday morning, I decided to motor to the local Starbucks for an overpriced coffee and blueberry scone. Arriving at the drive-through, I quickly calculated and figured I would be in line for thirty minutes. Heaving a big sigh, I pulled around to the parking area, grabbed my mask, and headed inside.

There was another line, but it was moving quickly. When my turn came, I ordered a Grande with room for cream and a blueberry scone. “All out of blueberry scones.” I thought a cheeky reply from the mixed purple and green-haired barista. I said to make it a plain scone then and was informed that it was also sold out. “What do you have?” She/her told me that they have everything else. By now, I had lost the desire for a scone and decided I would just get the coffee.

“John,” someone called. My coffee was sitting on the counter, and beside it was a blueberry scone. Not wanting to challenge fate, I took both and went to the service counter. I pulled the lid from the coffee and added some half and half. I sensed the shadow of a big guy pulling up behind me, so I made quick work of the stirring and turned to leave.

“You have my scone,” he said. His voice was so low and quiet I didn’t fully understand what he said. “My scone.” He surprised me with a louder voice. I suddenly understood that to continue to not understand might earn me a knuckle sandwich. I told him I was sorry and handed him the scone. He smiled and asked if I was John, who did a blog. I told him I was and he gave me an envelope. It seems he followed me to Starbucks for the purpose of delivery. He told me his name was Dog, the Prompt Deliverer.

I opened the envelope and read Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “lid.” Use it in the literal sense, use it in the metaphorical sense, use it any way you’d like. Have fun! While I was reading, Dog walked out the front door.\

If you would like to have, fun visit Linda Hill’s blog and read how easy it is. Here is the link  https://lindaghill.com/2021/10/08/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-october-9-2021/

Lid by John W. Howell © 2021

‘Put a lid on it.”

“Huh?”

“I want to use today’s prompt metaphorically.”

“Who you telling to put a lid on it and why.”

“I was rehearsing for my meeting with the POA.”

“Uh oh. What did you do?”

“Nothing. Well, I put up a sign protesting the dues increase.”

“And they told you to take it down?”

“They took it down.”

“Can they do that?”

“Yes.”

“So, what’s the point.”

Not sure. I just want to air my grievance.”

“Then what?”

“I’ll pay the dues.”

“But you will have been able to tell them they need to put a lid on more increases.”

“Not exactly. By ‘put a lid on it,’ I mean for them to shut the hell up.”

“Oh. I think it’s going to be a short meeting.”

“Maybe a visit to the pub might be more productive.”

“You think?”

“Let’s go.”

It was a quiet morning that could inspire incredible feats of mental productivity. However, before that process could begin, my carbon host kept reminding me to aspire to something even more important than the solution to the world’s problems. The shaking hands, frontal lobe pounding, and blurred vision led me to conclude that the carbon unit was set to expire without coffee. Lucky for it and me, the cup was already completing the beautiful act of creation. The aroma hit the olfactories like a linebacker determined to sack the quarterback. The olfactories called “time out,” and the rest of the unit stood at the ready for relief. Lips slightly parted, waiting for the hot potion that would soon be coursing throughout the entity, delivering its life-saving properties.

That done, it was time to visit the patio to get to work on the e-mails and post visits. As I was setting up the umbrella, a strange noise came to my now functioning hearing systems. It was like a small cry of a hawk. Looking up, I could see a speck in the sky that quickly turned into a dot. While my caffeine field brain was calculating the possibilities, my ocular sensors figured out that the flailing object was a man, and he was headed right for me.

The air was forcibly driven from my body at the point of catching the man. Yes, he landed right into my outstretched arms. We both hit the patio with a noise that could be described as resembling a watermelon hitting the street after dropping from a  twelve-story building. I think you get the picture.

I’m not sure how long I was out, but I opened my eyes to the biggest person I had ever seen. He had arms that looked like GI Joe on his best day and no neck. Around his waist was a belt with a buckle that read WWF Champ. “Hi, the name’s Tiny,” he said.”Thanks for catching me. This is for you.”

With that, he shoved an envelope into my immobilized hand, stepped over me, and left through the gate. I felt like a school project called flat me, forgotten on the concrete. Twiggy finally licked me back to life, and I opened the envelope. Inside was a message from Dan Antion. It read;

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “inspire/aspire/expire.” Use them in any form you like. Use one, use two or use them all if you want. If you use two, you get bonus points! If you use all three, Cheryl will put your next drink on David’s tab. Enjoy!

Clearly, I deserve a drink.

If you want to participate, go to Linda Hill’s blog and read how easy it is. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2021/10/01/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-october-1-2021/

Inspire/Aspire/Expire © 2021

“You’ve done it again.”

“What?”

“Used our time on that stupid prologue.”

“Well, I couldn’t help myself.”

“What brought Tiny back to life?”

“Jennie Fitzkee.”

“Of Teacher’s Reflections?”

“The very same.”

“You opening this blog to requests?”

“No, but she suggested that it might be fun to have Tiny visit.”

“Pretty short visit.”

“Big impact, though.”

“What happened to the prompt?”

“It’s all in the prologue.”

“So we can hit the bar?”

“Yup, and the first one is on Dan Antion’s buddy David.”

“Just the first?”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”