Morning Rituals

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Morning Rituals



Leering… Sneering… Smirking…

She awaited me at the corner on the right side of the vanity.

I could sense her contempt.

It had been seven days since our last rendezvous. I had sensed an untoward seething developing in our relationship, so I had purposefully instituted an armistice.

I stretched my right foot forward to scoot her closer to the center of the bathroom floor.

Right away, her animosity was registered. “Error…Error…Error.” The word flashed three times.

I had anticipated her malicious reaction. Our morning rapport was never friendly.

Each morning we shared this daily cavort. Her bursting with anticipation to boldly proclaim her authoritative calculations. My reluctant anticipation of truth. Taking a week from her vindictiveness had been a cherished reprieve.

Today was a new day.

A new dawn was awaiting.

Sweet morning…Here I come!

Spring had sprung, and so had I. Walking two miles every morning and two miles every evening had put a spring back in my step. (Please, pardon the incredulous pun.)

Grapefruit and granola bar had become my colleagues at breakfasts. My dinner plates had become far more sociable with vegetables than bacon-cheese burgers. I had even purchased stock in Niagara Falls…Ten glasses of water a day.

Today was my day of reckoning.

I firmly set my foot forward.

Ready to go where no man had gone before… at least he had not gone there for a week.

My left foot joined my right.

Today was my Normandy.



Written for Sunday Afternoon Writes. Prompt: Write about a machine you have either loved or hated.

Written for Writer’s Digest Flash Fiction February Challenges: Challenge #2 Today’s prompt is to write something usual doing something unusual.

Postal Misadventures

Safety Signs

Postal Misadventures



The waiting in line. Incredibly tedious. I had things to do. Well, actually, today I don’t.

A sign was posted inside the glass-enclosed bulletin board. I silently chucked. Florida Statute Section 790.06 (12). Today that was the least of their worries.

They’d promised a three day delivery for my baby girl’s Barbie. I’d paid the extra cost for shipping. My baby was disappointed.

I called my ex-wife. It was a full-on punch in the gut when I had heard. There was no present.

My ex-wife already knew I was a failure. Now my little girl was wounded. How do you explain to a five-year-old that Santa had shipped her present USPS and he had made a mistake? This mishap could haunt her for years.

I’d been here before Christmas and they’d tracked the package. They’d even told me where it was stored. I had asked to retrieve it to deliver it myself. They had refused. Now… they will pay.

Patiently, I waited in line. As new customers arrived, I politely allowed them to go in front of me.

Looking at my wrist-watch… three minutes until lunch. I would be the last in line.

No innocents would be harmed. But someone had to pay. That was the plan.

Unobserved, I quietly walked to the entrance door and locked it.  I turned the ‘Welcome’ sign to ‘Come Back after Lunch’.

My timing was impeccable. The gentleman, if you could call the covert-baby-disappointing-monster that, was the man who had assured me that this Christmas would be perfect. He was waiting at the counter.

Before I could speak to him, his supervisor tapped him on the shoulder. “Get a jump on lunch, Calvin. I’ll take this one.”

She was glowing. “I see you have already flipped our sign. Thanks so much. Sometimes our lunchtimes are over before the last costumer is served. How can I help you?

Barely comprehending her words. All I could focus on was her huge belly.

(328 words)



Written for Sunday Afternoon Writings: A Zoom Writing Group. Requirements: Use these five words in a flash fiction story. Post Office (I substituted Postal), glass, wound, failure, and wrist-watch.