How the Cookie Crumbles

Life and scribbles on the far side of SIXTY-FIVE


Flash in the Pan – X3 (Friday)


Princess Laya sits regal as a queen—not a hair out of place. Her eyes penetrate the dark, and then me. No face is as unyielding. Her tail thumps the floor with displeasure. She flicks her claws—once, twice—looks at them, and then at me.


My life is mine; my decisions mine alone. I was doing so well these past three days—I thought I had you trained!

Two-inch digits on my alarm clock flash 6:05 a.m. The red glimmer  radiates with ghoulish amusement. “Say what?” it glows, the numbers flashing condescension.

I groan and shift my bones to a sitting position. What’s happened to MY life?


Louder. Impatient.

“We had an understanding, remember? Alright, already.”



“What happened to waiting till my alarm goes off?”


“I thought you liked me . . . OK, ok, if only to shut you UP. . .”

~ * ~

 Understanding was inspired by M3 Flash Fiction challenge. You MUST check it out and play!

The word limit for Understanding is 150 words; this post is a 149 words.

Flash in the Pan CALL

Sylvia paces the cold ceramic floor like a tightly wound robot. She takes a deep breath and laces the fingers of both hands together, grinding them against each other.  A moment later, her digits ache from the clench and mash.

“Ouch.” She pries them apart.

The clock ticks like a bomb primed to detonate.

She rubs her temples and closes her eyes. No-one has any manners anymore. What’s happened to schedules and promises?

“Bob will be there between noon and one o’clock.”

“Are you sure?” she’d asked when making the call. “I’ll be on my lunch hour and must rush back to work—today is crazy for me.”

“No problemo. Bob will phone before he leaves his last call.”

One-fifteen: Tick Tock.

One-twenty: Tock—Tock—Tock . . .

One-twenty-nine: the doorbell gongs.

Sylvia’s face is a study of firm detachment. The toilet has to be fixed.

“Please come in.”

~ * ~

Call was inspired by M3 Flash Fiction challenge. You MUST check it out and play!

The word limit for CALL is 150 words; this post is a 150 words.


Flash in the Pan – DOOR

My life is the pits. I struggle to keep my weight down—always fighting.

Life is a bitch. At work, someone always brings in donuts for their birthday, for holidays, just-because-days, retirements, new babies and employee graduations to other positions—one nonsense after another.

At home I need to put chains on my fridge door—to save myself. As much as I ignore (rarely) the free office goodies; at home it’s a free-for-all.

I was NOT born with my head in the fridge; why is it geared to slouching in that direction now?

~ * ~

Door was inspired by M3 Flash Fiction challenge. You MUST check it out and play!

The word limit for DOOR is 100 words; this post is a 94 words.