100-Word Challenge for Grownups – Week 153

This week the prompt is: …but my poor old feet…+ 100 words

Come join in the fun. Click below to learn how:

https://jfb57.wordpress.com/2015/05/25/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week153-2/

Poor Old Feet

The kettle shrieked. Lucy shuffled in wearing flip flops and a housecoat. She emptied it into a bowl of Epsom salts set on the floor, and threw herself into the chair. She watched the water fizz. The steam is hot, the humidity’s hell, and the window fan’s a joke.

Impatient, she emptied half her water bottle into the bath, and dipped in a swirling toe, and then another.

Ahhhh.

The screen door slammed. “Battery’s dead. Hop along to town and buy me smokes.”

“I jus’ come from work.”

“Run along.”

“But my poor old feet—I been standin’…”

 

“What-the… Ow-ow-ow. Hot-hot-hot. You crazy…”

“Your turn. Git.”

 The End

© 2015 Tess and How the Cookie Crumbles. All Rights Reserved.

~ * ~

Bonus:

I had to check if my memories of Epsom salts were correct. Take a gander:

http://wellnessmama.com/8509/epsom-salt-uses/

Flash in the Pan – Radio

 

“You like the Winking Judge, Georgie?”“Yeah.” The nine-year-old grinned and pulled a scarlet earlobe. “Sounds like an announcer. He said we can do it again next week. Please, can I?”

His father pursed his lips, squeezing back a smile. “I disappear for two minutes and you’re buddies all ready? He’s gotta be ninety or thereabouts, one of the oldest members.”

Georgie’s freckles faded into blush. “How come I never heard about amateur radio operators before?”

“You’ve been fixated on Xbox and iPhone games.”

“This is cool. You’ll teach me?”

“The boy scouts have programs for young people like you.”

“Yeah? I heard of them.”

Wikipedia.commons

His father cocked his head. “In a disaster or emergency, cell phones may die, but not these babies. Your mom used to be a YL.”

“What’s that?”

“A female amateur operator: young lady. Her voice caught my attention. That’s how we met.

“Seriously. My Mom?”

~ * ~

Flash in the Pan – Irrational

Home at last. Miriam hums and kicks off her heels, then checks the fridge. No real food. Sigh. Her cell emits a boisterous, You Can’t Get no, Satisfaction.

She unzips her gray wool dress and peaks at caller I.D. What’s Trina, want? I quit the group months ago. “What’s up? Rotten weather for driving. Book-club on tonight?”

“Not sure. Time will tell. Sam’s out of gas—stuck on Exit 42.”

“How can I help?” As if I care.

“We need your gas can. Meet Doris at the Upper James Sunoco station.”

morgueFile free photos

“Dor-ris? What for?”

“She’s offered to keep you company.”

“This is irrational. You know she’s crazy, right? She hates me.”

“Bite the bullet this once, sweetie. Even Doris doesn’t remember why your conflict started.”

“And CAA?” Miriam grinds her teeth and drops the dress.

“Will take ninety minutes.”

“Doris doesn’t own a gun, does she? I don’t trust her.”

~ * ~

This is the new Fall Quarter of Flash in the Pan. The theme is Disturbed.

The word limit for Irrational is 150 words. I used them all again.

Check how to join:  http://mommasmoneymatters.com/flash-fiction/