Two Stories: One True - One Wordzzle

For months now I haven’t felt much in the mood to write any fiction. I have barely had the concentration required to read fiction.

Life is just too real.

Thankfully sometimes the reality is also hilarious. Hilarious and stranger than fiction.

Yesterday morning the PC started making odd sounds and freezing. Then I got messages about over-heating and voltage out of range. Finally it shut itself down (suicide?) and a few moments later the power strip tripped.

I’ll spare you all the tech talk. Let’s just say my house was wired by an electrician who is a frustrated quilt maker.

So I climb under the desk, belly crawling thru the jungle of boxes and cat toys and dust tumbleweed. I trip the power strip back into position. As I back out – no my butt was not making that backing up chirping sound, it’s not a new model – I misjudge my position, raise my head and smash it against the edge of my desk.

The power of my big ole, hard ole head hitting the fine faux wood of my desk caused such a shudder that my coffee mug flipped up and over and drenched my keyboard. As I back out the rest of the way, head reeling, coffee rolls off the desk onto my head. It was soothing.

I recover.

An hour later I am in the parking lot of Staples. As I lean into the open passenger side door of my little car to gather up my keyboard pennies the Hummer parked beside me flings open its door and smashes into my door. My door is so startled and upset that it lashes out by bashing me in the head.

Old dudes in Hummers – please! – get penile enlargement surgery or pay a 20 year old for sex and leave the freakin’ Hummer home.

I recover.

Back in the relative safety of my home I change into my favorite sexy lounging sweat pants and prepare to tackle the back of the CPU. Keyboard surgery is a simple procedure – millions are done yearly, the survival rates are high.

As I make my way to the basement the cuff of my sexy lounging sweat pants catches on the protruding frame of the fourth step from the bottom – the guy who did the stairs was the electrician’s cousin – and I begin to free fall through the air.

As my head heads toward the very firm frame of a filing cabinet I plead with God to let this last blow to my head kill me.

I don’t have health insurance anymore but the life insurance is still paid up.

God spares me. I am his/hers/their favorite sitcom.

Since I’m on the floor anyway I clean up the coffee.

And on I go …

I managed to write a WORDZZLE for this week before my coma set in.

Ten Word : We were born on the same day in the same hospital, Weeping willow, Two for one sale, Highway robbery, Burial ground, roll of paper towels, gospel singer, gallows, weirdo, volcano
Mini Challenge: Symbiosis, Sagging breasts, Navaho blanket, Frogmen, Who says I got no heart?

For all that is good and holy! Sweet Mary – Mother of Jesus! Would you just shut up!”

And with that blessing another day began in Room 216 at Weeping Willow Senior Center. Better known as the ‘Gallows Ghetto’ Weeping Willow was home to 106 elderly citizens, most of them poor and sick.

Soledad Symbiosis laughed out loud at her roommate’s blathering. “Oh Mary Margaret Mary - such language. And coming from a pious woman such as you no less. Get a grip girl. Heave up those sagging breasts and greet the day with some joy”.

”Joy!? You want joy? How can I greet the day with joy when I share a room with a weirdo who starts every day wrapped in a rag and uttering nonsense? How?”

”And stop mocking my name”

Soledad just laughed even more. “I’m not mocking you Triple M, I love your name and enjoy saying it. It rolls off the tongue and conjures up such memories – church bells and pretty little penguins all in a row and all that jazz. What’s the point in having a cool nun name if you’re not going to sport it? And my rag is an authentic Navaho blanket. I always wear it when I do my morning recitations. You know that.”

Soledad went to the window and threw open the curtains. The sun was bright and glared off the façade of the Volcano Diner across the road. She glanced back at Mary and smiled. “It’s a beautiful day and the diner is still running their breakfast special – two for one sale on all the pancakes we can eat. How ‘bout it Sister Triple M? I’m buying.”

”As long as you’re buying” Mary said. “Even when they charge just one of us for breakfast that place is highway robbery.”

“I’ll gladly pay for your breakfast Mary.”

Mary feigned exaggerated shock. “And to think they call you heartless.”

Now it was Soledad’s turn to act surprised. “Who says I got no heart? Not anyone here. I’m very popular you know.”

Mary’s laugh came out like a snort. “Popular? Is that what you’re calling it? “

“Yes MMM that’s what I’m calling it. I am as popular as the gospel singer at Tallawachee Burial Grounds.”

Mary was shuffling toward the bathroom with her Sunday clothes in hand. “They really do a nice service over at Tallawachee, don’t they? Pity I’m going to be buried by the church. I love that gospel singer.”

Soledad gave Mary’s arm a little squeeze. “I bet I could get her to come to the church Mary, you know the Baptists love to show the Catholics how it should be done, don’t worry about that right now. Just get dressed. And wear your good bra, you really are sagging girl”

Another snort laugh from Mary – “Oh please! The girls are in fine shape! I bet I could still pass that pencil test they did on Oprah.”

“Pencil” Soledad shrieked. “Girl you could carry a roll of paper towels under there! Jumbo size even.”

Mary pushed Soledad away gently and closed the bathroom door as Soledad was still speaking…

“And hurry up. I want to get to the diner before it gets crowded. I love watching those little plastic frogmen in the lobster tank.”

A short while later Soledad and Mary head down the hall together, arm in arm.

At the entrance they run into the center’s Director – Felicity Fithearty. “Off to the diner ladies?”
Mary nods as Soledad pulls her along. “Keep moving, we’ll never get out of here if she starts yakking it up. And she always asks the same question. How is it you ladies get on so well?”

Mary chuckles. “And we always give her the same answer.”

“We were born on the same day in the same hospital” they say in unison.