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.
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).
“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.