Jeannie heard Lucas’ footsteps behind her. Once outside the grotto, she realized how wrong she had been.

Written for Sammiscribbles in 17 words.

Jeannie heard Lucas’ footsteps behind her. Once outside the grotto, she realized how wrong she had been.

Written for Sammiscribbles in 17 words.

Welcome to the daily Three Things Challenge.
Use your imagination and creativity using one, two or all three words that may or may not be related. There are no restrictions regarding length, style, or genre, though please keep it family friendly.
Tag your responses with 3TC, #threethingschallenge or TTC, and you can add Di’s logo if you wish.

Our three words today are:
MUDDY
MASH
METER
James had been fishing for over an hour without even a nibble. He began to wonder if it wasn’t an old wives’ tale that fish tend to bite more after a storm.
And that was one hell of a storm! James was nearly knee-deep in mud that looked like blackish-grey mashed potatoes. But the air was wild with petrichor, so clean and fresh smelling. All that was missing was the rainbow to make the scene complete.
Suddenly James’ bobber was bouncing up and down like ping-pong ball. There must be a monster fish attached to it!
James began to reel him in when for some reason the fish stopped fighting. Now it felt like dead weight on the other end; probably just a log or somebody’s underwear.
That’s another thing James wondered about as he reeled in the catch of the day. At least three or four times a year James caught a pair of tighty-whities. Who keeps losing their shorts? Why?
Whatever was on the end of his line was coming into view. It looked like a mannequin, too big to be a doll. It wasn’t heavy enough to be a corpse.
Once the catch was safely ashore James went down to investigate. Smothered with algae, mud and various water plants, was a crash test dummy. The left side of its face was bashed in, as if someone kicked it. It could’ve just hit a rock, though. Upon closer inspection, James found that the dummy was still wearing its underwear.
If a crash test dummy could manage it, what was wrong with the rest of us?

I wrote this in 2020 for the dVerse Poet’s Pub. Today it is being repurposed for Fandango’s Flashback Friday.
Vibrant autumn leaves
decorating the lawn
warm-spicing the air.
2.
Wintertime’s leaves scrape
and scratch along the sidewalk
crunch beneath my boots.
3.
Tiny, hopeful buds
sprouting from dewy branches
robin spies a worm

Welcome to the daily Three Things Challenge hosted by Di of Pensitivity101 fame.
Use your imagination and creativity using one, two or all three words that may or may not be related. There are no restrictions regarding length, style, or genre, though please keep it family friendly.
Tag your responses with 3TC, #threethingschallenge or TTC, and you can add Di’s logo if you wish.

Our three words today are:
SAUCE
SOURCE
SANCTION
Marcie let her car coast through the McDonald’s drive-thru and stopped at the giant menu.
“May I take your order, please?” The fuzzy voice mumbled through the speaker as if s/he had a mouthful of mud.
“I’d like a Big Mac, no special sauce, large fries and a small Coke.”
“No special sauce?” The fuzzy voice asked.
“No special sauce.”
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why don’t you want special sauce?”
“Because” Marcie explained. “Special sauce is the source of all things evil in this world.”
“You gotta be kiddin’ me!”
“Can I just pay for my food and get out of here please?”
“I want to talk to you first. Drive forward.”
Marcie put her car in gear and drove forward, as she was told. When she stopped at the window, the cashier, Cinderella (according to her name badge) was already yelling at her. Marcie was surprised to note that Cinderella did not have a mouthful of mud.
“…And what do you mean, special sauce is evil? I will have you know that special sauce won the war!” Cinderella slammed her fist on the counter and continued. “People like you is what’s wrong with the world today! No respect for nothin’!”
Marcie decided that this woman clearly had a few chipped marbles. She dialed 911 on her cell as she continued to listen the cashier’s rant.
“How much do I owe you?” Marcie sighed.
“I don’t want your money! I want your respect and an apology for dissing special sauce! Now!”
The 911 operator had heard the most important parts of Marcie’s conversation with Cinderella and sent a unit to the McDonald’s.
Knowing that help was on the way gave Marcie a bit of confidence. “I do not respect special sauce. It tastes like crap and does nothing to enhance my existence!” Cinderella was fuming and grinding her teeth, but Marcie continued. “Special sauce is garbage and ought to be sanctioned! And Ronald McDonald is an ass. So, there!”
“You little — ” and with that, Cinderella tried launching herself out of the pick-up window and into Marcie’s car. She misjudged the size of the opening and got stuck about halfway out.
Over Cinderella’s screaming, Marcie could hear sirens nearby. She pulled away from the pick-up window, into a parking space, and waited for the EMTs.
Her stomach was starting to growl. Luckily, there was a Burger King right across the street.

It had been her best friend’s house. Sheila had fond memories of the place, and especially the family. Although she’d only lived in the area for seven years, it had turned out to be the best part of her life.
Tomorrow the house will be levelled. The parents had died, and the kids had neither the money nor the desire to make the necessary repairs.
Sheila wished with all her heart that she could go inside and feel those wonderful feelings of love, acceptance, and safety, one last time.
Instead, she gazed at the house through a blur of tears.
Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers. Photo courtesy of David Stewart.