Gertie and Bertie

Gertrude screamed, both fists banging on her neighbor's front door. Recognizing her voice Bertram snatched the door open. "What's wrong, Gertrude?"

"Help me!" she wailed, turning and running toward her house. Bertram loped behind her, his royal blue robe flopping wildly and shaving cream flying off his face in the breeze.

Approaching her front door she cautiously entered, ran and jumped onto a dining room chair.

Bertram stood agape as he looked from her to the trembling creature behind the trash can.

"A harmless mouse?" he marveled.

"Harmless?!" she panted. "Nothing is harmless that can give you a heart attack!"


This is my submission to this week's 100 word challenge at www.velvetverbosity.com

Confused

As a writer of Christian fiction, occasionally I am invited to speak on the subject. As part of my presentation I include my testimony, how I became a Christian. After all, if a gal is going to write Christian books, she should provide her credentials, right? Wouldn't you want to know that? I recently explained this to an inviter from a local church, and she was perplexed and asked that I just speak on myself and my writing for fear of confusing some of the people. Then I was confused. If this was a Christian-type church, what was the fear?


This is my submission to www.velvetverbosity.com Their challenge this week is to write 100 words...no more, no less...on the word "credentials." This happened to me just recently. The story is longer, this submission is not.

He Lived, Though

The perpetually robust gentleman laying in the hospital bed murmured thoughtfully, "You know...I guess...I thought I was invincible." A blood clot to the lung will make the strongest of folks take a step or two back and look hard at life, though. For over forty years he had escaped serious illness, and this was quite a shock to him...and her. "Get a pen and paper," he said with trembling lips and moist eyes.

"Oh, honey..."

"Please...just do it, okay?" His wife bit her lip and scrounged in her purse for his request. "My life insurance policy is in the safe..."

Pointy Things

Sharp objects bring out the squeamish in me. I'm probably alone when I say that as a child of the '50's and '60's watching a western with my family, my peepers slammed shut when some unsuspecting cowboy received an arrow to the chest! And when Elizabeth Turner plunged a knife into the undead chest of Captain Barbossa I was a goner. Heck, I wasn't too thrilled last week when the guy next to me at Outback stabbed his steak knife into a rare t-bone. And don't get me started on tetanus shots. Anyone got any smelling salts? I'm feeling green.