Arw65

Thanks LaDonna for choosing me! Alright, We are keeping Solo's 3 word penalty for changing a word. You must have a total word count of 210. I will pass the torch on June 15th, midnight TD time.
And the new words are:

Certainties
Kindles
Worthwhile
Spatula
Irritating
Moist
Prudent
Abyss
Tongue
E ssence

Good luck to all, and an early thank you for your participation!

Arw65

take the space out of essence ... oops

Dragon

Ooo, spatula. That's going to be hard to work into stories about dragons and evil queens
Good word list, can't wait to get started.

anotherronism

“Dead Man Eating” by Ron

She wakes before dawn.

Shuffling through the dark kitchen she kindles the stove and lantern.

She measures four tablespoons of coffee then remembers again that he’s gone. He’s dead. She’d always made his coffee strong. She scoops a tablespoon back into the tin.

She eyes the clock when the pot starts percolating.

Her mind wanders again to the irritating thought: “Is this prudent? Worthwhile?’

The essence of her faith and duty remain unshaken even after her husband’s violent death. But her absolute beliefs are no longer certainties. She struggles mentally while finishing her coffee.

She mixes flour and the last of the buttermilk. She pours the batter. She eyes the clock and reaches for her spatula.

Her thoughts race again. She teeters towards a mental abyss. The pancake is done.

She adds it to the stack then wraps them to keep them warm and moist.

Dressing quickly she overcomes her struggle.

She gathers syrup, butter and utensils.

Walking past the gallows she sees a crowd forming.

Entering the jailhouse she sees the man with a priest. She almost falters hearing him praying in his foreign tongue – the priest comforting him.

‘Who comforted my husband at the end?’ she wonders.

She places his last meal on the desk and shuffles home.

Dragon

That was really thought provoking Ron. She seems like the type who truly believes in forgiveness but suffers for that belief.

Here's mine.

A Few of the Certainties of My Life (a true story)

I’ve learned that there are very few certainties in life and those vary from person to person. For example, some of the things I can absolutely count on include the following.

#1: If it’s Saturday night the irritating neighbours upstairs will either be partying or screaming at each other.
#2: When icing a cake there will always be at least one cat standing directly behind my feet with a moist tongue ready to clean off the spatula.
#3: It’s always prudent to have the mechanic of your group on the riverboat before casting off (and subsequently drifting aimlessly down river with no ability to start the engine or steer).

I’ve also learned (late in life but not too late, thank goodness) that life is much more worthwhile when spent with someone who kindles a fire deep in your heart and keeps it burning even when you’re past that first time of passion in your relationship. Someone who sees the very essence of who you are and can still love you despite all that.
I know, I know, the only true certainties in life are death and taxes, but when looking into the abyss that is death (or the mire that is taxes) it’s good to have had love as well.

Qsilv

laughing softly but with absolute delight at Dragon's...
and just re-reading ron's again... and again... and again... and....

Login

Ooo! These are really good. They inspire me to get involved again ... but I will have to wait until my visitors have returned home. I'll keep looking in to read more of these little gems.

lynnspotter

The irritating bile rose in her throat as she flew out over the abyss. Knowing it wouldn't be prudent to show herself in the village, she flew on anyway.
The man stood by the stove, stirring the egg with a spatula. His eyes grew moist as he remembered his late wife at this same task a short while ago. Thoughts of her sudden death kindles waves of guilt. Why had they gone so far, and for what? A few eggs, even though they were so large, one would make an entire meal . Now, after her fall into the abyss, he would eat alone. The cottage had grown large with emptiness, and he knew these certainties would follow him to his grave; without his wife nothing could be worthwhile- there would be no joy or purpose in life. A single tear ran down his cheek.
With a flick of her tongue the fire bellowed forth from her throat. The cottage turned to charred cinders, the essence of the man was no more. Revenge for the theft of her young was complete. She banked back toward her cave as arrows flew toward tender wings. Happiness at a task complete filled her mind.
Happiness also in another realm as two souls again unite.


Inspired by Dragon & her wonder at how to use the word 'spatula'.

Dragon

Great story! Hmm, I wonder what dragon eggs would taste like?

anotherronism

“Harry Potter and The Spatula of Doom” by Ron

“It kindles a nice spark that one does eh Harry?”

“Hagrid, have you gone mad? It’s a spatula. Not a wand!”

“Well you needn’t get your panties knotted up. The wand, ahem, the spatula, picks the wizard. Not de utter ways around anyhow.”

Harry was sick to death of Hagrid’s irritating ways. The oaf had quite literally snatched him away from an enjoyable birthday and flown him, where?

“’Elo Harry. Remember me?” asked a red-haired boy.

“Can’ts ‘ay I do.” Replied Harry.

“Hey Hagrid. ‘E says ‘e don’t know me. I’m Ron you daft idiot. Ron Weasley.”

Harry wondered if it would be worthwhile or prudent to point out that this WAS the first book and they hadn’t actually met.

“You better just watch your tongue Ron Weasley.” said Harry waving the spatula.

‘poof…’

“Oh my God!” screamed Harry.

“What’ve you gone and done now idiot?” asked Hagrid.

“I’ve gone and killed Ron Weasley.” Said Harry.

“Oh my God. You killed Kenny!” screamed Hagrid. “Just kidding.”

“Huh?”

“There are no certainties as Dumbledoor’ll tell you anytimes. I’m sure Ron’ll be fine. Right now he’s a moist puddle of his former self lying around the abyss of hell I’d reckon. But his essence is intact. Oh, of that I am certain.”

anotherronism

“Oliver Twisted” by Ron

Oliver Twist was an amazingly irritating boy.

Everything about him was annoying – his fair hair, his angelic innocence, his always-moist trousers, his tongue licking the snot from his upper lip and his altogether annoying habit of licking that rusted old spatula. Of course, we’ve all been hungry before but, give it a rest kid.

Charles Dickens met the boy at a Wal-Mart Super-Center in Canton, Ohio. He’d stopped in to purchase an end table. Wal-Mart was having an end-table sale that day, you see?

Oliver Twist had been living in the Wal-Mart since his mother had given birth to him and abandoned him during a spring clearance sale. Oliver had gotten by on tossed-aside candy wrappers and spilled soda ever since.

Charles Dickens had, up to this point, made his living writing copy for the advertising department of Fred’s Oversized Appliance Store. Charles Dickens wanted out.

He was a worthwhile writer and prudent. He knew a good story when he saw one.

There were certainly certain certainties about writing. ‘This child kindles my spirit.’ He thought.

‘If I could capture his essence somehow…’, thought Charles Dickens, ‘I might not fade into the abyss of history unknown.’

He got his end-table and led the boy home.

They lived happily ever after.

anotherronism

“A Comedy Routine Based on Peter Pan” by Ron

Peter Pan was penned by JM Barrie then panned by the critics.

Actually not, but the ill-advised alliteration instilled instantly an ironic intrigue I altogether should’ve ignored.

So Peter Pan is the essence of the child. Yeah. Blah blah blah.

That kid’s so in the pan you’d need a SPATULA to get him out. (Crickets chirp…)

Look folks. I’m DYING up here.

Can I get a “HO”? (Silence…)

Tough crowd tonight!

You guys ever here the one about little Johnny?

Seriously folks…

Peter Pan kindles some certainties about childhood right? All that innocence and purity crap…

I’m not saying Peter Pan isn’t a worthwhile thing. It’s just that it’s so irritating.

I mean, come on. Who calls their kid Peter Oh-my-god-are-you-kidding-me Pan? (Crickets continue chirping…)

Here’s my Bush impression: “Wouldn’t be prudent. Wonldn’t be…” (Silence…)

That’s the first Bush. Also known as “Eve”. Get it? (Again with the silence…)

Summer’s Eve – when the muffin in the oven ain’t so moist?

Don’t look at me. The Bible was all about burning bushes. And speaking in tongues wink, wink – nod-nod…

Well you’ve been a great crowd. I’ll be here all week. Try the veal. And next week I’ll be appearing in the burning abyss of hell. Thank you all for coming out.

Robindcr8l

That clean spatula sitting alone on the kitchen table kindled a memory for Frank, and he was abruptly transported to his childhood. He had just fought with his younger sister, the “angel” of the family. She was screaming loudly to get his mother’s attention, all the while looking at Frank with an evil smirk, waiting for the most prudent moment to muster up the tears for effect. His mother came storming into the kitchen, and didn’t bother to ask why “Angel” was screaming. With fury in her eyes, she spewed out a verbal tongue-lashing that instantly sent Frank to a dark abyss. She opened the drawer and pulled out the spatula that she routinely used for only the worst offenses. Typically, she would just slam it down on the table loudly and threaten, “Don’t MAKE me use this!” But this time, with “Angel’s” moist eyes glowing with satisfaction, the mother couldn’t hold back her rage. She grabbed Frank by the arm, flung him over her knee, and proceeded to give him a whipping.

“What’s the spatula for?” Frank asked his wife.

“It’s a worthwhile kitchen utensil when it comes to disciplining Frank, Jr. for picking on his sister,” Angela responded.

There in the mirror, was the essence of Frank’s childhood.

anotherronism

Robin. You're mean

anotherronism

"Angel" and "Angela"? You go too far... Stop it already!

anotherronism

But seriously - nice spin.

My understanding of flash fiction is that it's almost always about the last two or three lines. So much get's left unsaid - it's really about jokes (even if not funny) and pulling the rug out at the end.

This is a classic case of a protaganist - a back-story and a twist.

You manage to squeeze in a bit of foreshadowing as well with "Angel" always being in quotes.

Well done!

Dragon

Ron, ROFL at Oliver Twisted!! Harry Potter was a little twisted too (that's a good thing), though you lost me a bit on the Peter Pan routine.

Robin, loved yours too. Reminded me of my childhood, though it was a wooden spoon in our house and it was never me that got it (no I wasn't "Angel", they pretty much earned every lickin' they got)

anotherronism

Dragon - I'd pull back Peter Pan if I could. I'm just in a 'mood' today and it was fun to write. But really shouldn't've been posted.

anotherronism

“The Essence of the Spatula” by Ron

“A spatula also called a turner, or a fish slice in British English is a kitchen utensil with a long handle and a broad flat edge used for lifting fried foods. Though the word spatula is used in British English, it refers solely to a mixing and spreading implement. Often the plate scraper is referred to as a spatula. In some parts of Scotland (e.g. Glasgow or Victoria Halls) the spatula is also known as a tosser which refers to the tossing of omelettes or pancakes.

“The word spatula, known in English since 1525, is a diminutive form of the Latin term spatha, which means a broad sword or a flat piece of wood and is also the origin of the words spade and spathe.”

Bobby decided that suicide was his only option.

The Wikipedia entry was the only source this was due tomorrow!

What “certainties” were cited? What was the “essence” of the spatula?

He bit his tongue and continued writing.

What about the ‘spatula’ kindles ones imagination?

His eyes moist with weariness he reflected on his stupid English teacher. The man had thrown him into this spatula abyss. God! He was so irritating!

But Bobby was prudent. He’d manage a worthwhile effort and get at least a “B”.

anotherronism

Ahhh... The essence of NOT editing before posting. I dropped a word so I'm over on this one. Sorry.