Wednesday, March 25, 2015

Two 100 Word Stories

She seats me in a booth by the window, the table I’d requested. It is an exact place with a view of shrubs and asphalt.
     “Can I get you something to drink?” the waitress asks with a practiced smile. Her nametag says, Lola.
     “Yes, I’ll have whatever Fatty Arbuckle was drinking at that party with the dead girl.”
     She gives me a clueless look. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
     “Neither did Fatty.”
     “Uh, I’ll give you a few minutes to decide.”
     Nobody understands my sense of humor. Oh well, it’s not as if I aspire to write for Fred Allen.


I bought some old slides at a yard sale for twenty-five cents. I don’t have a projector so I held them up to my eye to see what they depicted. They were taken in the early 60’s. A young couple traveling in Europe. I name the man Bob and the woman, Melissa. Bob and Melissa by the Eiffel Tower. Bob and Melissa on Carnaby Street. Bob and Melissa standing beside a wax sculpture of Stan Laurel. I wonder who took the pictures. It’s the kind of mystery that drives me crazy so until I learn otherwise, Gary had the camera.  

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