Willa: But I had it made to fit. What are we going to do?
Hera: I don’t know! Take it back and see if they can fix it?
Willa: But we’re going the wrong way.
Hera: You should have checked before you left the store.
Willa: How can I check something like that?
Hera: I don’t know. By comparison?
Willa: I had nothing to compare it to when I picked it up.
Hera: Oh well. We’ll have to wait ’til tomorrow now.
Willa: So where are we going to sleep?
Hera: (shrugs) I have a spare.
Willa: (huffs in anger) Do you mean to tell me that all this time you had a spare key, and you made me feel like a failure for getting a new one cut wrong?
Hera: You remember that time you locked me out because you wanted to be alone with your boyfriend?
What are the odds I’d come across this picture now, after forty-seven years–and what are the odds of giving him yellow hair and orange skin in 1971?
Obviously I was practicing my signature for when I became a famous artist. Haha.
If I’d known then what I know now, I’d have given him smaller hands.
If you would like to participate in this prompt, feel free to use the “One-Liner Wednesday” title in your post, and if you do, you can ping back here to help your blog get more exposure. To execute a pingback, just copy the URL in the address bar on this post, and paste it somewhere in the body of your post. Your link will show up in the comments below. Please ensure that the One-Liner Wednesday you’re pinging back to is this week’s! Otherwise, no one will likely see it but me.
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As with Stream of Consciousness Saturday (SoCS), if you see a pingback from someone else in my comment section, click and have a read. It’s bound to be short and sweet.
Unlike SoCS, this is not a prompt so there’s no need to stick to the same “theme.”
The rules that I’ve made for myself (but don’t always follow) for “One-Liner Wednesday” are:
1. Make it one sentence.
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Something has been bugging me for the past week. Actually, Facebook has been bugging me for the past week, telling me how close I am to having 500 followers on my author page. Because for a week now, my followers have equaled 499. I’m so close!
So if you have a Facebook profile and you haven’t already “liked” my page, put me out of my misery, would you? As well as links to all my blog posts, you’ll find the occasional funny or inspirational post, and once in a while, posts to support other authors.
Crystal: So I’m, like, sitting in the coffee shop minding my own business, right?
Jasmine: Uh huh.
Crystal: And this guy comes up to me and asks me if he can sit down and I’m, like, ‘there’s plenty of other seats in here’ and he’s, like, ‘well I thought I could sit with you. You’re really pretty.’
Jasmine: No. Way. So what did you do?
Crystal: Like, exactly what anyone would do. I threw my coffee at him.
I had no idea, honestly, what I was going to write for today’s prompt. Here in Canada we don’t call the thing we cook on outside “The Grill” as much as we call it just a plain old barbeque. (I spell it that way because in this household with all the sign language going on, we fingerspell it “BBQ” for Alex.) (And anyway, it’s English, damnit.) Nine times out of ten if you read the cooking instructions on Canadian food packaging, it will say “In the Frying Pan,” or “On the Barbeque” rather than “On the Grill.” Holy Hell, where am I with this post?
Oh yeah. So we do grill vegetables but we do it on the barbeque, so my idea for this prompt wasn’t to talk about cooking on “The Grill.” My idea was nothing, really, except the word “grill.”
But then my son Chris came out to the kitchen and asked me to make his grilled cheese sandwich. He has one at 11:30am every day. It’s his schedule, which can’t be deviated from. When he said it I was, like, “duh!” There’s my prompt.
When I first discovered grilled cheese sandwiches back as a teenager, I think, I was told they were made by buttering both sides of the bread. And I actually did it for a while, before I figured out I only really needed to butter the outside. What a mess! (This, by the way, is something I’ve never told anyone. You’re the first to know!) Of course grilled cheese sandwiches have nothing to do with a grill of any kind, and I have no idea why they’re called that.
I do hope my kids realize after I’m gone how much of their history (and mine) is recorded here in this blog. They stand to learn so much about their mother and where they came from before they were born. But they never read it.
I should write a memoir one day. I wish my parents had.