Another Sunday and thus nothing heavy duty . . .
A tall order given all the heavy duty stuff going on, but I’m game. Let’s talk about . . .
Nope; got nothing. I’ll have to bore you with yet another piece of flash fiction from some years ago . . . This was written at work during lunch. The inspiration was exactly what I described. In many places, the doors to the restrooms in public places face each other and while it’s never happened to me, I have to imagine two people exiting at exactly the same time might find it a bit awkward.
Movement Propels Destiny
By E. J. D’Alise (Disperser)
Copyright February 2013
Julie opens the door at the same time Larry opens the door on the opposite side of the small recess; the door labeled “Men”. They both stop on their track, standing on the threshold, and holding their respective restroom doors open. They stare at each other, each a mirror image of the other, in pose and expression.
“Wow, she’s gorgeous!” Larry’s thought interferes with his ability to speak, and he just stands there.
Julie’s heartbeat kicks up a tick or two as she stares at the handsome young man staring back at her. “Say something, you fool!” Her thought motivates her to speak.
“Uh, hi . . .” She mentally smacks her forehead. “Smooth,” she thinks, “real smooth!”
Trying to recover, she continues . . . “No. 1 or No. 2?” Even as the words leave her mouth, she starts to blush. ”OH MY GOD!! WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?!?” Where had that come from?
Larry, still intent on imagining their future children, answers automatically. “No. 2, and then some!” ”OH MY GOD!!” His occupied mind hears the echo of the words a split second after he says them, and snaps him back to the present. ”WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!?”
Julie is surprised . . . maybe she should be shocked, but she’s unsure if that’s his sense of humor coming through. Better play it safe . . . “Yeah, I know what you mean! I feel like I just lost five pounds!”
They stand there, still looking at each other, not knowing how to proceed.
The man who had been patiently standing there, waiting to get into the restroom, finally speaks.
“When you tell your children how you met, make it a less crappy place; maybe a pizza joint.”
Julie and Larry both turn to him, and he looks at each of them in turn. Finally, it hits them. All three break out in loud and uncontrollable laughter.
After thirty seconds or so, finally composed, Larry steps aside, letting the man pass. Then he and Julie decide to go grab a coffee at the shop nearby.
Thirty-five years later, holding their granddaughter’s hands, they would point to the coffee shop explaining to her that’s where they met. But both also would glance at the restroom alcove, then at each other, and crack a smile.
For some reason, this story got a lot of views and comments. Well, not that many; in fact, nowhere near the most popular of my fiction post.
In case anyone thinks that’s a large number of views, I’ve had a total of 134,821 views so 99 views is 0.07%. In contrast, my most popular post has 3,738 views.
Mind you, I’m not complaining. I say that so readers don’t go all supportive on me. If you’re still thinking about it, please don’t.
Anyway, WordPress doesn’t give numbers for posts that get fewer than 50-lifetime views. Perhaps the story above got 49 views.
And now, the photo:
I’ll probably have a few other versions of that photo. I happen to like the coloring of the trunks and, no, that’s not the natural coloring.
Joe Martin is quite the philosopher . . . check the last panel of the cartoon below.
As an aside, we’ve yet to find a pizza we like here on the Island. Consequently, no pizza for us for a long while now.
I often accompany Melisa when she goes to quilt shops because I like the fabric colors and designs. Good stuff for future inspiration.
Most of the shop owners don’t mind, but many have rules against photography. Something about the designs being copyrighted. Personally, I think they’re a bit full of themselves. I mean, yes, I suppose someone could steal a design just from a photo. On the other hand, these aren’t exactly the Mona Lisas of Quilts. Regardless, I always ask and if they say no, I don’t snap photos. BUT . . . were I actually trying to steal a design, I could easily photograph everything in these stores without them being the wiser for it.
Besides, you have to be a pretty good quilter to steal a design from a photo . . . and if you’re that good a quilter, you’ll want to concentrate on your own designs as opposed to stealing others. I could be wrong . . . maybe quilters have no personal ambition and live for stealing other people’s work.
Also, how tough is it to come up with a design? Here’s one I whipped up. I call it . . . Gecko Family Reunion Group Quilt.
And . . . that’s it
Some of these posts will likely be longer as the mood hits me, but most will be thus; short, uninteresting, bland, and relentless.
You can read about Project 313 HERE.
That’s it. This post has ended . . . except for the stuff below.
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. . . my FP ward . . . chieken shit.
Finally, if you interpret anything on this blog as me asking or wanting pity, sympathy, or complaining about my life, or asking for help and advice, know you’re likely missing my subtle mix of irony, sarcasm, and humor.