Church Potluck Outreach

 

A moratorium was now placed on church potlucks. The last one caused a flash fire when the Barbecue Pit exploded, sending miscellaneous pork bits and ribs, along with Bob’s Secret Ingredient (lots of whiskey) flaming sauce, flying over to Old Miz Guthrie’s tiny old house.

Old Miz Guthrie heard screaming coming her way, and then smelled the barbeque fire on her roof.  “Oh, Lordy, Lordy!  My house ‘s afire!”  As fast as a squirrel on a live wire, she scampered out the door, wringing her hands while the fire department extinguished the barbecue flickers of flame.

No damage done, Old Miz Guthrie thanked everyone, shushing them away, and hurried back inside.  Looking around at her immaculate, nicely decorated home, she raced down the steps to her basement, which was packed with fire-proof chests of gold coins, jewelry (oh, how she love nice jewelry), and packs of one-hundred bills. 

Unbeknownst to the community, Old Miz Guthrie was quite a spendthrift made possible by her late husband’s last bank robbery in 1955 in Chicago.  I better get outta this town.

The next day her brother Raffert showed up at night with a big van and they moved everything from the basement during the big school dance.  Just before she closed the front door, Old Miz Guthrie turned the cooker on high, with bright flames crawling to a dishtowel.

The town mourned for her. Damned BBQ sauce.

This is a Wed. Words from 2015, and it was different.  I hope you can enjoy. It was created by Delores, who has given up computers, River has taken up the slack, but might like to have someone else to share this. Are that person??

Wednesday Words: Emma

Ocean floor

 Emma had retreated to the basement  of her mind as years passed and words came less and less.

A gentile in a kind Mormon rest home, Emma heard the nurses as they changed shifts and discussed patients, as if they were inanimate objects.  “Her extremities are more spastic” and “Exhibits increasing imbecility daily” were the diagnoses and observations expressed. 

Rage and anger filled Emma’s mind, but words could not break the barrier the stroke had given her.

A new orderly, Kevin was hired for the night shift and was assigned to Emma’s care.  His kindness was a gift.  Kevin spoke to her with gentleness, a relief after her silence had muted her voice.

One late, late night night, Kevin softly entered Emma’s room and awoke her.  “Emma, you know you have fulfilled your life’s purpose.  Now,” he covered her mouth and nostrils with his big hands.  “Let’s go swimming in a cool ocean.  Take a deep breath, and dive to the bottom.”

Emma’s mind grew darker and darker as she reached the ocean’s floor.  “How lovely!”  were her last thoughts. 

These italicized and underlined words are provided by Delores from Under the Porch Light.  Each Wednesday,  Delores provides six daunting words for any who wishes to participate in this writing challenge. Please visit her site by clicking on the shivering cardinals in the sidebar; you will find other writers who have taken different slants on these words!

PhotoPrompt--Pirate ship

On the Border

Doreen looked at hubby's creation as the crane lowered the pirate ship onto her lawn.  She sighed. 

“Damn that NCIS show with Mark Harmon/Jethro Leroy Gibbs!”

She turned to look at the excavation that had taken out the living room.  To reach the basement.  Where hubby had built that ship. 

“Damn you, Mark Harmon, and your blue eyes!”

Mark Harmon with his blue so blue eyes