Wife's Helper

John flipped his wife’s shopping list and reached for the phone in his jacket. No charge.

He caught a nearby shopper.

“Excuse me, what are these,” he pointed to the list.

“Try the seafood counter,” was the reply.

Once there, John asked, “Do you have scal...?”

“Scallops?” the server interjected. “Half a pound? They’re pricey.”

John placed the package into his basket. “Where do I find this,” he showed the same man.

“Rubber scrapers in kitchen gadgets.”

“Thank you.”

When John arrived home, his wife unpacked the bags.

“I’m allergic to shellfish!” she shrilled. “Where are the scallionsand capers?”

From Guest Contributor Krystyna Fedosejevs

Krystyna writes poetry, fiction, and creative nonfiction.

Is This The Beginning Or The End Of The Story

Gary swatted at the prick on his leg. Of all the days to get a bee sting, it had to be his wedding day. He wasn't allergic, but it hurt like hell. He walked with an obvious limp for the rest of the day.

When he visited the doctor in Paris, three days later, the swelling had grown to the size of a tennis ball. The pain was debilitating. The doctor came in with a look of concern.

"The bad news is you're dying. The good news is that your bee sting has opened a gateway into a parallel universe."