Back From The Correctional Facility

“I took the letters you sent, Ralph, and made them into a book.”

“A book? Or a manuscript, Claudette?”

After six months at the correctional facility, Ralph was finally home.

“Did you like them, Claudette?”

“I guess it's the thought that counts. I couldn't always get your spelling. Sometimes you were in a bad mood.”

“It was food…I kept writing for food.”

He was allowed only a pencil and paper.

“That's great, Claudette. You made a manuscript, and you were faithful to me the whole time.”

“Well, I wouldn't go that far.”

“You mean...You didn't make a manuscript?”

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

For the prompt Manuscript and Letter

Eating at Fromkin's

The larvae of beetles and moths – often described as bookworms – enjoy eating manuscripts and printed material. Lem, a Drugstore Beetle larva, Clem, a Cigarette Beetle larva, and Mel, a developing moth, burrowed away at Fromkin's Bookshop, after Al Fromkin locked up the place and drove to his small condo in Northeast Philadelphia.

Lem held his abdomen with four of his legs. “That manuscript was awful.”

“Tell me about it.” Clem had burrowed through several letters Al Fromkin left on his imitation oak desk.

Both were sick as dogs.

Mel smiled. “I finished a 100-word story. I feel pretty good, actually.”

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

For the prompts Manuscript and Letter.

The PI

“You're a dick, right?”

“Come again?”

“A private investigator?”

Mel sat across from Doris Vandergrift in the living room of her mansion.

“I need to find Reginald.”

“Your husband?”

“Yes. As I mentioned, I have a letter.”

Mel scanned the pages.

“I keep seeing – ‘I need more money.’”

“My 87-year-old husband ran off with Rhonda, our massage therapist. She was always after him for money, as you see.”

“But it's not a letter.”

“What'd you mean?”

“It's more like a manuscript.”

“Does that matter?”

“A manuscript? Yeah...To run down the leads in a manuscript costs a lot more money.”

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

For the prompts Manuscript and Letter.

The Spelling Bee

It was the Turnersville Third Grade Spelling Bee. Fran Blancowitz squared off against little Mel Fromberg. The auditorium was packed with students, staff, parents, and relatives.

“Mel, spell the word ‘Dog,’ please.”

He managed it slowly.

“Now, Fran, spell the word ‘Letter,’ if possible.”

No problem. 

Next Mel correctly spelled ‘Cat’, after Mr. Atkins, the principal and questioner, used it in a sentence – ‘The cat chased the dog.’

“Fine…Now, Fran, spell ‘Manuscript.’”

She did. But, from the audience, her parents and relatives objected – he was tougher on Susie. 

Mr. Atkins turned to Mel.

“Okay…Spell the name ‘Blancowitz,’ Mel."

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

For the prompts Manuscript and Letter.

Powerful

After finishing his breakfast, Frodo sat by the kitchen recliner, begging for some of Ralph's. Any closer, and the Labrador would've been in his owner's lap. Ralph wondered if the dog considered him an all-powerful being, miraculously dishing out kibble each morning. Soon Ralph would be at his Uncle Frank's dry cleaning business, and no one considers dry cleaners to be all-powerful, although they can easily crush buttons. Frodo drooled on Ralph's crotch, as he thought – What the hell, let him imagine he's a superior being for a moment, as long as he tosses me some of that poppy-seed bagel.

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

Problems With The Ark

Anyone who builds an Ark can expect complaints, and not just from the animals.

“This’s your stupidest idea yet, Noah.”

She got right to the point.

Not only was his wife seasick after 40 days and allergic to the weasels, but now she had to squeeze between two rhinos to sleep.

“Look, I'm only following orders.”

Orders – that was always his excuse.

Mrs. Noah added more frown lines to her face.

“Well, here's my order. From now on you’re sleeping between the two rhinos.”

“What?”

“No, forget the rhinoceroses.” She knew ‘rhinoceri’ was an improper term. “Make that the hippos.”

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

Two Emperor Penguins

After laying her egg, the female Emperor penguin spends at least two months at sea gorging on silverfish. The unfed male then incubates the egg for that entire time in the penguin colony. Ed and Fred were two Emperor penguins...

"I'm really sick of sitting on this thing and living off my body fat, Fred."

"It gets really uncomfortable, especially in the sensitive parts down there, Ed."

"Do you ever dream of silverfish – just eating silverfish all the time?"

"Do you know what's odd, Ed?”

"What?"

"After sitting here so long, all I seem to dream about is scrambled eggs."

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

While At AL'S Counter

“Otto, look at that.”

Stan and Otto were at AL'S DINER, side by side at the uneven linoleum counter. Stan pointed with his spoon.

“Is that a fly in my soup?”

Both studied the chipped bowl and the small thing squirming in it.

“Seems more like an ant, Stan.”

“With wings?”

“Sure...Lots of ants have them. Is that the chicken soup?”

“No, clam chowder”

All soups looked alike at AL'S.

“Clam, huh?”

They stopped eating. Otto decided against dipping his fingers in the bowl to see.

“I'm pretty sure it's an ant, Stan...The flies don't seem to enjoy Al's chowder.”

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

You Know Birds

“Look, Ed. the Sun's coming out.”

“The Sun, huh?”

Actually, it had been out, fusing protons into helium nuclei in its core. Daily, unendingly, for billions of years, it kept at it. Cloud cover had temporarily blocked Edna's view.

“Look at the trees. Let's go out on the patio, Ed.”

Squinting, she turned from the window.

“But the birds in the trees like to crap on me, Edna.”

It was true. They aimed for Ed's head especially.

“Yeah, Ed. But they'll hold off.”

“What?”

“Your hair's a mess...You know birds. They'd rather splatter you after your shampoo, not now.”

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

Their Saturday Morning Walk

“How was it Ed?”

By 10:30, Ed returned with Frodo, after their Saturday morning walk. Frodo, a Labrador retriever, immediately went to his food dish.

“I played fetch with Frodo in the park. He chased a squirrel, Edna, and they ran into the middle of a parade. I caught him, then we went by Sawyer's place.”

“Was his forsythia in bloom?”

Cornelius Sawyer had an almost pathological attraction to his bush.

“Yeah...Frodo peed all over it, Edna. Then Sawyer threw a brick at him.”

“That was it?”

“No, he threw a tennis racket at me.”

“Oh...So, nothing unusual.”

From Guest Contributor David Sydney