Skyrocketing Endeavors

1400068700w0086Two-hundred-fifty guests… first time to capacity.

I have doubled the kitchen staff for the evening and the night.

Both of my head chefs are here. One is responsible for the appetizers and desserts- the prep-kitchen. The other is responsible for the dinner preparations in the main galley.

Both my head maitre d’s are working.  One is only in charge of seating, the drinks, and maintaining decorum of the room. The other is in charge of the waiters for food service.

This should call for a celebration… but later.

You knows what could still go wrong. I shudder with ungodly premonitions.

The auction is to take place in the adjoining room.

Flowers have been arranged. Seating has been rearranged … twice. The arrangements for the silent auction items have been triple checked.

Additional parking has been acquired for the extra cars and more formal uniforms were purchased. Four additional car jockeys were hired to manage the vehicles. Security has been modified for the dignitaries.

I have hired an additional bartender for the additional three-hundred invitees coming only for the auction.

If the night goes well… the accolades will skyrocket my endeavors.

But who knows…

Pleasing my mother-in-law has never been easy.

Written for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner – 2018: Week #32. Requirements:Create  a flash fiction story of 200 (or less) words using the photo prompt provided.



1365256807kyjppThere she was.


Every evening, for the last three days, I had walked the beach at the edge where the wave breaks the shore.

Every evening, she was there.


The first evening, she waved at me as I went passed.

I smiled.

Her wave was a small princess wave – like the beauty queens in cars in a Labor Day parade.

I hadn’t even nodded my head toward her. I think I sort of dipped it.

Duh! What a doofus.

At least, since then, I have tipped my hand to my forehead.

This evening… It will be different.

Written for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner – 2018: Week #30. Requirements: Create  a flash fiction story of 200 (or less) words using the photo prompt provided.

An Ill-Timed Alibi



And she simply disappeared.

One moment, she was behind me. Her left hand irritatingly nudging my back… pushing me toward my room.

The next… askew at the bottom of the stairs… surrounded by three small girls.

I hadn’t pushed her. I had only elbowed her away. She was always crowding me.

The girls’ looked up and saw me. “There he is, Mama! That’s the man that was arguing with the pretty lady.”

My mind whorled. What had they heard?

Looking up I saw the security cameras. This ship was loaded with them. That’s why we had chosen to complete the heist here.

Pictures can provide alibis.

Finally, I found my voice. “Shellie!” I cried. “Shellie!”

The crowd parted and I knelt. I held her close… checking for a pulse.

In my world, I was known for my on-the-fly decision-making. Tonight, I would soon see if my reputation was as deserved.

Written for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner – 2018: Week #29. Requirements: Create a flash fiction story of under 200 words using the photo prompt provided.


pexels-photo-626164-shadow“I can’t find the back “door. Where’s the door?”

“Can’t you turn that blasted alarm off?”

Of course I can’t turn the alarm off. It’ll go off when the smoke clears.”

“My ears are going to burst. When will this infernal smoke clear?”

“When I can find the door. Have you found the door?”

“Will you please quit taking about that damned door? Just reach around and open a window.”

“You know we can’t open the windows. They are all sealed and alarmed because you were afraid of being burglarized. Need I remind you what the intruder alarm sounds like?”

Written for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner- 2018: Week #26. Requirements: Using the photo prompt given, create a flash fiction story of under 200 words.

The Dark Room

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Fumbling in my pocket, I found the matchbook I had lifted from Quincy’s.

I seemed to collect them like mints from my mother’s coffee table. They were always there for the taking.

Tonight, I was grateful.

The room was in total darkness, at least I guess it was a room. The last thing I remember was a stranger walking toward as I turned the corner from Quincy’s. The stranger smiled. Then a hand with a small cloth covered my mouth from behind.

I heard movement in the room. I paused before striking the match. Maybe it would be better to ascertain a little more about my surroundings before I tipped my hand with the matched.

Someone kicked a chair.

There was giggling.


Suddenly, there were lights everywhere.

“Happy birthday to you….” filled the room.

“Surprised you, Justin. You said it would be impossible. But it wasn’t.”

Written for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner- 2018: Week #22. Requirements: Using the photo prompt, create a flash story of approximately 200 words.

Written for Be a Writer Now- 2018. Requirements: Write a poem or part of a story about someone locked in a dark room (you can decide why the person is locked there).

Wait a Minute, Mr. Postman

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“There it is… the mistress’s favorite song. It’s in her morning preparations routine: make-up…mail… then morning meal. In a few minutes our preferred target will be approaching.”

“Haven’t you gotten tired of pestering that old man?”

“Are you kidding me? The more he waves his arms around heading to the mailbox as we fly near… The colorfully-nuanced expressions that escape from his lips as he tries to escape, hunchbacked and hobbling back to his senior-duplex, unspotted with the daily mail under on his left armpit and his walker cane pugnaciously swinging around his greyed head.”

“Do you think we should allow the kids to come with us this time? You know they keep asking.”

“They’re still a little fickle in their flight patterns. Let’s just keep it us. Our own morning date.”

Written for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner-2018: Week #21. Requirements: Using the photo prompt provided, create a flash fiction story of approximately 200 words.

Dennis, the Daredevil

No Swimming
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Dennis, the Daredevil

“Is this going to be safe?” repeating myself for the umpteenth time.

“Who you kidding? Dennis replied.  “Look at those fiberglass posts. They just pushed’em in the sand ‘cause they wanted the lifeguard to have the weekend off.

“Man, you’re joking?”

“Why are you such a chicken?”

“I know the difference between courage and stupidity.”

“They always say there’s such a fine line there. ‘Sides, by tomorrow, we’ll be web celebrities. These waves could be the most monstrous waves of the surfing season.”

“Hence, the warning signs?”

“Just role the film. What difference does it make to you? You’re here on the beach. I’m the one hanging.”

With that, Dennis began paddling toward the foam-filled crests and I unpacked the tripod and began setting up my Sony NXCAM.

The churning in my stomach gyrated with the waves pounding the beach.

On days like today, there was no talking Dennis down.

Written for Flash Fiction for the Practical Practitioner- 2018: Week #20. Requirements: Using the provided photo prompt, create a 200 word flash story.