Today, I randomly opened Detour on the Eternal Road to page 115. With eyes closed, I pointed to the page. My finger landed right between “handsome” and “guy.” Our prompt today is “handsome guy.”
The machine delivers a nerve-saving cup of steaming elixir. The first sip signals the low caffeine warning horn inside my head that a new chapter of addiction satisfaction has begun. The second sip is accompanied by the ever-present Westminster chimes of the front doorbell, indicating another idiot ignoring the “do not ring the doorbell” sign that covers the doorbell.
The barking of Twiggy and Tempeste threatens to crack windows and plaster, so a bone is tossed into the soundproof room, and when the two hounds of Baskerville go inside, the door is slammed. The silence almost caused the eardrums to implode. A check of the security monitor predictably shows the image of someone who looks like Daffy Duck. The usual conversation takes place about a signature for an. envelope, so, with a sigh, the security shutdown process begins.
The SWAT team needs to be put on standby. A quick text to the leader confirms that status. Also, the flight of A-10 Warthogs must be diverted. Another call to the commander puts that worry to rest. The SEAL team needs to be called off, and a call to the leader makes that possible. The MH-60 Jayhawk Helicopter hovering over the house is diverted. A call to the tow truck driver stops the deployment of an M1A1 Abrams Tank. The control panel simplifies the shutdown process of the security system. The boiling oil vats are put on standby, the turret mortars disengaged, the Trebuchet on safety, the concertina wire rolled, the Claymore mines reset, the tower Gatling guns on safety, the moat net dropped, the alligators fed, and the IEDs and shoulder-held rockets put away. The Proton torpedoes switched off. The gamma ray beams covered. The high-powered maser guns switched to standby, and the nanorobots were chained in the basement. The Klingons are called back, and the Targ is caged. Robbie’s Bot is sent to the basement. The Tasmanian Devil is directed to the food in his cage, and the door drops. The locks on the door are thrown. And the door opened.
The duck points to a line on the clipboard for my signature. After signing, he gives me an envelope. Before his little web food gives the classic tip gesture, he gets the tip of the day. “Remember the Chinese proverb: ‘Be not afraid of growing slowly; be afraid only of standing still.'” Before the duck can react, the front door is locked and the security system reactivated.
The envelope is from Linda Hill. Inside is a message. It says, Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “chapter.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!
Today, I randomly opened The Power of Three by Teri Polen to page 67. With eyes closed, I pointed to the page. The word closest to my finger is “trash.” That is our prompt today.
Today, I randomly opened Detour on the Eternal Road to page 67. With eyes closed, I pointed to the page. The word closest to my finger is “approach.” This is the prompt today.
The coffee machine sits in silence, waiting for orders. As a hapless slave to a caffeine addiction, there is no way to tolerate a malfunction. Yet the message on the touch pad screen says, “Message 666 see owners manual.” Flipping through the pages, message 666 finally pops up before my caffeine-starved, red-rimmed eyes. “Take Another Look,” was all it said. Looking back at the touchpad screen, the message reads “Got Cha,” and then the menu appears. Shaking my head, the two coffee selections are made, and my patience is rewarded with an eight-ounce mug of brain-saving elixir.
One sip, and the Westminster chimes and Igor’s hounds all begin a cacophony that threatens the eardrums. A quick toss of doggie treats for each and the slamming of the door to the soundproof room brings silence to the Earth. A glance at the security monitor shows Frosty the Snowman on the porch. Of course, the attempt is made to have the delivery left, but as usual, a signature is needed. With a sigh, the security shut-down process begins.
The SWAT team needs to be put on standby. A quick text to the leader confirms that status. Also, the flight of A-10 Warthogs must be diverted. Another call to the commander puts that worry to rest. The SEAL team needs to be called off, and a call to the leader makes that possible. A call to the tow truck driver stops the deployment of an M1A1 Abrams Tank. The control panel simplifies the security system’s shutdown process. The boiling oil vats are put on standby, the turret mortars disengaged, the Trebuchet on safety, the concertina wire rolled, the Claymore mines reset, the tower Gatling guns on safety, the moat net dropped, the alligators fed, and the IEDs and shoulder-held rockets put away. The Proton torpedoes switched off. The gamma ray beams covered. The high-powered maser guns switched to standby, and the nanorobots were chained in the basement. The Klingons are called back, and the Targ is caged. Robbie’s Bot is sent to the basement. The locks on the door are thrown. And the door opened.
Frosty points to the clipboard where to sign. After he hands me an envelope and holds out a mitten hand in the classic tip gesture, the tip of the day is delivered. “Better go and play before you melt away.” Stepping back through the front door, I give it a mighty slam. The envelope is from Linda Hill, and the message inside reads: Your prompt for #JusJoJan the 24th and Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “take another look.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!
Coffee first, then face the day. The low caffeine warning light is blinking behind my eyes. A touch of the two-coffee icon on the touchscreen starts the process that delivers eight ounces of life-saving goodness. One sip and the red warning begins to fade. A second sip, and the chimes of Westminster announce another idiot who cannot read the Do Not Ring the Doorbell sign. Don’t get me started on how annoying the chimes coupled with Twiggy and Tempeste threatening the integrity of the window glass with their warning to stay away. A couple of new stuffed toys tossed into the soundproof room, and a slam of the door puts an end to the ear-bleeding “bark them to St. Lewis” cacophony of the two.
A glance at the security monitor shows an image of a Porky Pig look-alike. A back-and-forth discussion determines the need for a signature on an envelope delivery. (Of course) With a sigh, the security shutdown process is begun.
The SWAT team needs to be put on standby. A quick text to the leader confirms that status. Also, the flight of A-10 Warthogs must be diverted. Another call to the commander puts that worry to rest. The SEAL team needs to be called off, and a call to the leader makes that possible. A call to the tow truck driver stops the deployment of an M1A1 Abrams Tank. The control panel simplifies the shutdown process of the security system. The boiling oil vats are put on standby, the turret mortars disengaged, the Trebuchet on safety, the concertina wire rolled, the Claymore mines reset, the tower Gatling guns on safety, the moat net dropped, the alligators fed, and the IEDs and shoulder-held rockets put away. The Proton torpedoes switched off. The gamma ray beams covered. The high-powered maser guns switched to standby, and the nanorobots were chained in the basement. The Klingons are called back, and the Targ is caged. Robbie’s Bot is sent to the basement. The locks on the door are thrown. And the door opened.
The pig hands me a clipboard, and after signing, he hands me an envelope. He also holds out a cloven hoof in the classic sign that a tip is expected. “Stay away from smokehouses,” was my tip to him as I slammed the door.
The envelope is from Linda Hill, and inside is the following message. Your prompt for #JusJoJan the 10th and Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “don’t get me started.” Use the phrase in your post or just write about the first thing it conjures in your mind. Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!
Today I randomly opened Detour on the Eternal Road to page 77. With eyes closed, I pointed to the page. The word closest to my finger that we can read is the compound word “short-range.” This is our prompt.
“It may not look pretty, but at least the leak is stopped.”
“I’ll give you that, but what an eyesore. The neighbors are going to have a field day at the New Year’s Eve party, talking about the mess you made.”
“So you are just worried about what the neighbors will say?”
“Darn right I’m worried.”
“You should be happy that we got the leak under control and not worry about the gossip.”
“I’m the one who has to deal with these folks. All you do is work most of the time and don’t have talk to them.”
“Still. For the most part, we keep our place neat. This was an emergency. Don’t you think they will understand that?”
“I still don’t understand why it has to look like such a fright?”
“The water pressure was just too great to take the time to make a lovely patch. I had to get the water stopped before it ruined everything.”
“Can you fix it now?”
“No the binder has to set up before I make any more adjustments.”
“How does this happen anyway? You built our place. Did you do a lousy job?”
“This is a small setback, and you are making a mountain out of a molehill.”
“You don’t have to listen to the whispers.”
“We had unprecedented rain, and the water pressure was just too much.”
“Why didn’t this happen to others?”
“Take a look.”
“What?”
“Do you see any dams left downstream?”
“OMG, where are they?”
“So much for wondering if ours was built properly. I don’t think you have to worry about what is said at the New Year’s Eve party. I think you and I will be the only ones there. The rest will be chasing their tails trying to find logs to rebuild.”
“You are my hero. Happy New Year, you eager Beaver you.”
So here we are, between Christmas and the New Year. It’s always good to have a nice, quiet cup of coffee on a Saturday morning. Of course, there is a certain dependency on the machine to be in the right frame of mind to deliver that cup of coffee. It looks like today is a lucky day, since a push of the two-coffee button delivers the eight-ounce cup of steaming stuff that is vital to moving on with the day. The first sip is heaven and drives the demons back to their lair. The plot thickens just before the second sip. The familiar interruption of the Westminster chime signaling that another idiot can’t read the “do not ring the doorbell sign.” Tossing a bone into the soundproof room gets Twiggy and Tempeste off the ceiling chasing after it. A slam of the door brings peace back to the abode.
The security monitor shows an image of someone who looks a lot like Wile E. Coyote. A challenge through the intercom, and, long story short, he has an envelope that requires a signature. With a sigh, I start the security shutdown process.
The SWAT team needs to be put on standby. A quick text to the leader confirms that status. Also, the flight of A-10 Warthogs must be diverted. Another call to the commander puts that worry to rest. The SEAL team needs to be called off, and a call to the leader makes that possible. A call to the tow truck driver stops the deployment of an M1A1 Abrams Tank. The control panel simplifies the security system’s shutdown process. The boiling oil vats are put on standby, the turret mortars disengaged, the Trebuchet on safety, the concertina wire rolled, the Claymore mines reset, the tower Gatling guns on safety, the moat net dropped, the alligators fed, and the IEDs and shoulder-held rockets put away. The Proton torpedoes switched off. The gamma ray beams covered. The high-powered maser guns switched to standby, and Robbie’s nanorobots are chained in the basement. The Klingons are called back, and the Targ is caged. The locks are thrown, and the door is opened.
The Wile look-alike hands me the envelope and a clipboard. My signature is applied and given back to him. The Wile look-alike has a huge firework in one paw. It is from the ACME Explosives Company, leading me to believe it is not a firework at all. The other paw it open in the classic tip receiver mode. Given the presence of the dynamite, the better part of valor is to hand him a tenner. He smiles and turns to go as my front door is slammed. The envelope is from Linda Hill, and the message inside reads Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “plot.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!
Today I randomly opened Circumstances of Childhood to page 77. With Eyes closed, I pointed to the page. My finger was closest to the word “bag.” That is the prompt today.
