Evidence of a Gross Bathroom…The email.

“Um, Barb, that isn’t the email you sent is it?”

“Well, yeah Betty, why is there something wrong with it?” Barb was a little confused as she saw nothing wrong with what she had written on the screen.

Sally stood behind Betty, contemplating how much she should say about the inappropriate email Barb had sent to HR regarding the cleanliness of the ladies bathroom.

“Its just that you took a really disgusting picture and added it,” Betty said, hesitantly. Staring at the screen, totally dumbfounded by the intense image on her friends computer screen.

“If they don’t want to believe how disgusting their bathroom gets because of their own employees then maybe they need to see the truth, before someone tries to clean it up, knowing the boss will be checking it. We are lucky he is a man and can’t go into that atrocious bathroom.” Barb was deadset on leaving the gruesome picture on the screen of her computer until she saw her words in print and knew her boss had read the email.

Darrell’s Deadly Disposal

This is new to me but it looked like it was right up my alley! Update**** Looking back I have done Greg’s challenge before! Who knew?!?!?!

The machination would not be complete without the rope. During this global catastrophe people had let their guard down and finding victims was so easy. Darrell couldn’t imagine what he did before this new “pastime”. I mean, who would have thought that listening to the banter that was constantly going on outside the women’s restroom would cause him to come up with this plan? He had no shame in his crime. He was having fun. The women could get out of the slipknot if they really wanted to, it just went to prove that they didn’t want to leave his lair once he got them there. That only led to the big problem of disposal. Getting rid of a human body was not as easy as they made it look in the movies. Darrell had searched the internet trying to find large quantities of lye. His search didn’t do much of anything as far as he knew.

Deserted Streets: Fandango’s Story Starter

This week’s Story Starter teaser is: https://fivedotoh.com/2023/05/30/fandangos-story-starter-99/

Ross opened the fortune cookie that was delivered with his Chinese take-out and was shocked when he read the message inside telling him that his life was in danger and that he needed leave the city immediately.

Ross opened the fortune cookie that was delivered with his Chinese take-out and was shocked when he read the message inside telling him that his life was in danger and that he needed to leave the city immediately. Weren’t these things packaged in bulk in some warehouse in China or Hong Kong? How could it possibly be a personalized message, probably some jokester at the take-out place messing with customers. But what if…?

Ross stood up and grabbed his coat off the side chair. Leaving the food containers open, half empty, he hurriedly grabbed his keys, ensured his wallet was in his pants pocket, and left the apartment. He was going straight back to the Chinese Dragon to find out exactly what was happening. With a rush of adrenaline, he heaved the front door of his apartment building open and leaped onto the sidewalk. Ross froze.

The street was deserted! As far as Ross could see, the streets were barren in every direction and the world was silent. What was going on? There was almost a stifling quiet pulse in the air and breathing seemed harder. Was it his imagination or was the air getting thicker and thicker with each breath? Panic started to rise in Ross’s mind and his skin started to prickle. From under a broken down junk car, Ross heard the quiet whimpering of a child but when he bent down to see who it could be, he screamed in terror and fell back flailing his arms to try to keep himself on his feet. It was no use. Ross fell hard, smacking his head on the solid concrete.

When the paramedics found Ross he had lost too much blood and some brain matter to even had had a chance to survive.

Fandango’s Story Starter #92: Piper’s Problem

This week’s Story Starter teaser is:

When I walked into the kitchen, I noticed that there was broken glass all over the floor. There was purple ooze dripping down the cabinets and refrigerator door. To make matters worse, Fido was licking up the jelly from the broken jar! This was awful, but having the dog eat glass would make this situation so much worse.

I grabbed my Swiffer and a rag and stared at the mess trying to figure out how to tackle this sticky mess. I couldn’t even get mad. Piper had only been trying to be a big girl and make her own sandwich. Now she lay crying on the sofa. I’m just happy she didn’t get hurt and once I got Fido out of here I could get this all cleaned up.

PassTheBaton Challenge for April 2023

Read it here

Marla:

She woke up exhausted.

As the wooshing in her ears subsided, she heard something feint and was not sure what it was, but it was unyielding but oscillated consistently. She recognized the sound, but didn’t.

She felt hungover and sore.

Sitting up, she could see her reflection in the full size mirror near the bed. Her hair was a mess, her crusty makeup from yesterday smeared from sleep.

As her mind started to come to life slowly, she realized that she didn’t know where she was.

Her ears perked up from the rush of adrenaline caused by the shock and she turned to the source of that sound. It was a man, and he was softly snoring.

Who was he? Where was she? What happened last night??

Christine:

With a feeling of dread, Yolanda rolled off the side of the bed, trying not to disturb the sleeping body next to her. This had happened before but in the past she could at least remember who she had spent the night with. Stiffly, she bent over to pick up the bit of her clothes that had been drunkenly tossed aside, and was heading toward the bathroom when she heard the man in the bed snuffle. She froze. She thought he was waking up, but he just rolled back over and continued snoring. She really wanted to get out of here before he woke up.

Quickly undressing from last night’s get-up Yolanda slipped under the hot water running from the rusty shower head. This wasn’t exactly the type of place she liked to stay at but if that guy out there was paying then it didn’t matter too much, it was his waste of money. It would’ve been nicer if the place had been really nice. She chuckled to herself and thought, “If this is all he’s going to fork out, I don’t want to know who he is or where he came from, cheap-ass!”.

Suddenly the door slammed open, the doorknob hitting the wall next to the shower hard enough to cause some damage to the sheetrock, and ….

I am passing the baton to Di at Pensitivity101! Please let me know if you cannot continue and I will re-pass (is that even a word?) the baton.

Link to this post to put in all posts:
https://marladragon.wordpress.com/2023/04/01/passthebaton-challenge-for-april-2023/

Friday Fictioneers: Finally Found

Rochelle hosts Friday Fictioneers here: https://rochellewisoff.com/2023/03/29/31-march-2023/

Tony pulled up to the curb slowly, not wanting to risk having a small child run in front of the car. When you stopped at these roadside tag sales you never knew what you would find and if they had a big section of used toys you would usually find a few kiddos running wild. He was looking for a shelf for the kitchen. Nothing too big, nothing too wide or fancy, just something to hold the spices and maybe a few dressings.

Getting out of the car, Tony started scanning the sale to see where he might find this kitchen shelf when he saw it. He stopped, almost feeling like he might pass out, as if in a dream state. Sitting on an old whicker chair sat the old violin, his old violin, that his granny had given him when he graduated college. He hadn’t necessarily loved the ornate design but granny had had it painted special for him and for that he loved it. When he had moved into his new place he had left a few boxes at his parents house, figuring he would get them at some point that he had the room. He didn’t know that they would have a clean-out day and donate all of the “stuff” in the garage. When he realized what he had left in that “stuff” he was heartbroken.

Tony walked over to the violin, almost as if to not catch anyone’s attention, feeling like if he caught someone’s attention they would want the violin and snatch it away first. Picking up the beautiful instrument he could feel the tears welling behind his eyes and his throat starting to get tight as he held back his emotions.

The guy running the tag sale walked over. “Hey, what do you think of that old thing? My mom had picked it up at some thrift shop thinking I would love it but its a little too girlie for me. Do you play?”

“Um, well, sort of,” Tony stammered, now that he knew the guy thought it to be too girlie he didn’t want to admit it was his. “My niece is starting to play and her birthday is coming up. I’m her Godfather too so I wanted to give her something really special.”

“Well, I was asking $25 but if you really want it you can have it for $20. It would be nice to know someone loves it. I won’t play it,” the guy said laughing.

Tony took his wallet out of his pocket and took out a twenty-dollar bill. He handed it to the tag sale guy and nonchalantly walked away, not wanting to show this guy how ecstatic he really was. Getting into the car he laid the violin on the front seat next to him and smiled. “Thank you, Granny, I love it!”

_________

This story is pure fiction but I wrote it after remembering a story my dad told me a long time ago. Apparently, he, Tony, had a beautiful violin, something expensive and a brand that most violin enthusiasts would know. He loved it and cared for it, as he learned to master playing it. One day he took it to a music shop to get tuned and cleaned properly. He picked it up and put it near the music stand in his living room. He didn’t play it again for quite a while, not really recalling why. He did remember that when he opened the case the next time it was NOT his beautiful instrument. The shop had switched it out with a typical, store-bought brand that was sort of cheap, maybe the kind for beginners who don’t want to put a ton of money into the playing until they were sure they liked it. He had been heartbroken and he never played again. It still breaks my heart to think of that.

It’s Thursday’s Six Sentence Story Link Up!

Join in here: https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2023/03/29/its-thursdays-six-sentence-story-link-up-31/

Screen

Finding Family

Darcy made her way through the stacks of books, down long tunnels of shelving that reached over ten feet from the floor, and through several doorways before entering the computer room.
She had never understood why they put this room all the way in the back, just like supermarkets put all the dairy in the back of the store to entice shoppers to walk the isles.
Sitting at the third computer, which is the one she usually sat at when she came here, she hit the power button to wake up the screen and start her search.
It was nearly 3 hours later when she looked up from her computer again but felt less tired than she had felt when she got there.
With paper and pen in hand, Darcy headed back the way she came and slipped out the door without making any disruptions to the other library patrons.
Finally, Darcy had the address she needed, the courage to move forward, and the desire to learn all about the family she never knew she had.

Day 5 #100DaysOfThoseDays

Today is World Spay Day https://gloriawriteshere.wordpress.com/ (February 28th)

“Maisy, go down to the market and get me a bunch of bananas. Make sure they are not the green ones. I want to make banana bread to bring to Granny’s tomorrow.”

“Will you make one for us too?”

“You know I always make two! Now, get…I’d like to get started.”

Maisy slipped out the front door and was shocked at the scene in front of her brownstone apartment. There were people lined up as far as she could see to the left and the right. The rows of people were at least five if not six or seven deep. She could get lost just outside her house. How was she going to get through all those people and not spill something down her pants leg? Looking at the front stoop two doors down, Maisy finally had the opportunity to see what all the hype was about. Leaning slightly forward, so as to not fall over the rusting wrought iron handrails, she saw what everyone was looking at.

By now Maisy had forgotten all about the banana bread and was now fixated on…

The group that had congregated at the intersection. There were about 10 people and they were all dressed in Mexican clothing. The funny thing was they were just standing there. I couldn’t hear any music and I certainly didn’t see anyone dancing. I wondered if there was supposed to be some sort of parade or something with all these people lined up and down the street. I decided my best bet would be to go down the step and see if there was anyone who looked friendly enough to chat with.

As I made my way down the steps people near my building turned and looked at me. Their glares felt like I was disturbing something but as I had noticed when I walked out, there was no music, no festivities, or at least none that I could see yet. A man in a jeans coat turned to his side a bit to let me walk by but since he turned and his back was away from me I took that as not an invitation to chat! The peoople lined up didn’t seem to mind stepping out of my way but nobody made eye contact and noone greeted me in any way that seemed friendly. I was about halfway through the rows of people.

I continued making my way when a small, old woman looked up at me as I tried to pass.
“Here, dear, you can stand by me,” she said.
I took this as an opportunity to find out what exactly was going on.

“Good morning,” I said cheerfully. “I didn’t know there was anything special happening today! I only live a few buildings down and I was so surprised to see all these people lined up.”

“Well, I’m surprised you haven’t heard the news. There is a giant truck coming from the Mexican border. No one is certain what is on the truck but people have some ideas. I think it’s going to be bags and bags of Tortilla Chips. I heard they make them from fresh corn in Mexico.”

“Maybe,” I said, trying not to roll my eyes. A truck of tortilla chips? Where on earth did she get that idea? And why was everyone dressed up?

Maisy’s mind was spinning in circles! Mexican fiesta? Mexican food? There wasn’t anything here to hint at what was coming in this supposed truck! Maybe I’d better get down to get those bananas before it gets any busier, she thought.

“I’ll be right back,” Maisy said to the old woman.

“No problem, dear, I will save you a spot for when the truck gets here.” The old woman beamed with excitement and anticipation.

Maisy began moving through the crowd again, excusing herself as she bumped into people who seemed so oblivious to her that they didn’t even step aside to let her by. As she neared the opening she could hear someone talking in just above a whisper, coming from the center of the small group in the intersection. She nudged her way past the last line of bystanders and saw what was at least the beginning of the event. There, in the middle of the street were four men and four women, all dressed in beautiful, bright costumes, and they stood around a chair, almost like a throne that had been placed right in the middle of the street. Sitting in the chair was an old man.

At the base of the chair, surrounding the old man’s feet were at least a dozen small children. They sat mesmerized by the old man. He held a book and was quietly reading to the small children. The words he spoke were Spanish, so she couldn’t understand, but she assumed it was a children’s story by the way the children sat so quietly, listening to the man. Then just as soon as she had seen all the little children the old man put a bookmark on the page he had been reading and closed the book. Maisy could hear groans from the children, they obviously wanted him to continue.

Then, as if out of nowhere a huge tractor-trailer came slowly down the road on the right of the crowd, and the people began to move out of the way of the giant vehicle.

The truck began to slow down, thankfully aware of the small children who were scattered around. No one at the fiesta seemed to know what the truck was for but if the outside was any indication it was for the food vendors. Painted on the box of the truck were so many different foods, all of which could probably be purchased once the food tents were erected. The children began noticing the food pictures and excitedly pulled on their parents hands, pointing out their favorites.

Maisy stood watching the giant truck maneuver its way through and around the crowd. Her stomach began grumbling when she saw that there would be a tent selling all of the most popular nuts. Maisy loved pistachios and unlike the bananas that Granny wanted, Maisy loved that they were green. Licking her lips, Maisy made her way past all the parents and their noisy little charges, trying to get to the market for those bananas! Granny would not be happy if she came home without them.

Now, as Maisy moved farther away from the crowd of people she saw that she was almost to the market that Granny said had the nice, ripe bananas she needed. The shop owner, an old Korean man, was such a sweetheart and Granny said it was so important to give him, and the other little shops, all of our business so the big box stores couldn’t push them out. Maisy loved that this was all happeneing right where she had grown up.

Walking past an alleyway between two of the small buildings Maisy heard a faint noise. She didn’t need a flashlight to see that there was a small glass bowl and the smallest kitten lapping the liquid up out of it. The kitten looked tiny and Maisy wondered to herself if it was a stray or feral cat or if someone just let it out of their house. Granny didn’t allow Maisy to have any pets and she had heard that they cost a lot of money anyhow. There were vet bills and bedding, food and toys, and now it was even a rule or someething that everyone should have their pet spayed or neutered to cut down on all the animals wandering around with no home. Maisy hoped this little one had a home, maybe she would ask the nice man in the shop.

Maisy walked closer to the shop and thought for a moment, wondering what it was she was supposed to be bringing home to Granny! Between the crowds and the children, the old man reading, and now this tiny kitten, Maisy was overwhelmed with all the hustle and bustle!

Day 4 #100DaysOfThoseDays

Today is National Pistachio Day https://gloriawriteshere.wordpress.com/ (February 26th)

“Maisy, go down to the market and get me a bunch of bananas. Make sure they are not the green ones. I want to make banana bread to bring to Granny’s tomorrow.”

“Will you make one for us too?”

“You know I always make two! Now, get…I’d like to get started.”

Maisy slipped out the front door and was shocked at the scene in front of her brownstone apartment. There were people lined up as far as she could see to the left and the right. The rows of people were at least five if not six or seven deep. She could get lost just outside her house. How was she going to get through all those people and not spill something down her pants leg? Looking at the front stoop two doors down, Maisy finally had the opportunity to see what all the hype was about. Leaning slightly forward, so as to not fall over the rusting wrought iron handrails, she saw what everyone was looking at.

By now Maisy had forgotten all about the banana bread and was now fixated on…

The group that had congregated at the intersection. There were about 10 people and they were all dressed in Mexican clothing. The funny thing was they were just standing there. I couldn’t hear any music and I certainly didn’t see anyone dancing. I wondered if there was supposed to be some sort of parade or something with all these people lined up and down the street. I decided my best bet would be to go down the step and see if there was anyone who looked friendly enough to chat with.

As I made my way down the steps people near my building turned and looked at me. Their glares felt like I was disturbing something but as I had noticed when I walked out, there was no music, no festivities, or at least none that I could see yet. A man in a jeans coat turned to his side a bit to let me walk by but since he turned and his back was away from me I took that as not an invitation to chat! The peoople lined up didn’t seem to mind stepping out of my way but nobody made eye contact and noone greeted me in any way that seemed friendly. I was about halfway through the rows of people.

I continued making my way when a small, old woman looked up at me as I tried to pass.
“Here, dear, you can stand by me,” she said.
I took this as an opportunity to find out what exactly was going on.

“Good morning,” I said cheerfully. “I didn’t know there was anything special happening today! I only live a few buildings down and I was so surprised to see all these people lined up.”

“Well, I’m surprised you haven’t heard the news. There is a giant truck coming from the Mexican border. No one is certain what is on the truck but people have some ideas. I think it’s going to be bags and bags of Tortilla Chips. I heard they make them from fresh corn in Mexico.”

“Maybe,” I said, trying not to roll my eyes. A truck of tortilla chips? Where on earth did she get that idea? And why was everyone dressed up?

Maisy’s mind was spinning in circles! Mexican fiesta? Mexican food? There wasn’t anything here to hint at what was coming in this supposed truck! Maybe I’d better get down to get those bananas before it gets any busier, she thought.

“I’ll be right back,” Maisy said to the old woman.

“No problem, dear, I will save you a spot for when the truck gets here.” The old woman beamed with excitement and anticipation.

Maisy began moving through the crowd again, excusing herself as she bumped into people who seemed so oblivious to her that they didn’t even step aside to let her by. As she neared the opening she could hear someone talking in just above a whisper, coming from the center of the small group in the intersection. She nudged her way past the last line of bystanders and saw what was at least the beginning of the event. There, in the middle of the street were four men and four women, all dressed in beautiful, bright costumes, and they stood around a chair, almost like a throne that had been placed right in the middle of the street. Sitting in the chair was an old man.

At the base of the chair, surrounding the old man’s feet were at least a dozen small children. They sat mesmerized by the old man. He held a book and was quietly reading to the small children. The words he spoke were Spanish, so she couldn’t understand, but she assumed it was a children’s story by the way the children sat so quietly, listening to the man. Then just as soon as she had seen all the little children the old man put a bookmark on the page he had been reading and closed the book. Maisy could hear groans from the children, they obviously wanted him to continue.

Then, as if out of nowhere a huge tractor-trailer came slowly down the road on the right of the crowd, and the people began to move out of the way of the giant vehicle.

The truck began to slow down, thankfully aware of the small children who were scattered around. No one at the fiesta seemed to know what the truck was for but if the outside was any indication it was for the food vendors. Painted on the box of the truck were so many different foods, all of which could probably be purchased once the food tents were erected. The children began noticing the food pictures and excitedly pulled on their parents hands, pointing out their favorites.

Maisy stood watching the giant truck maneuver its way through and around the crowd. Her stomach began grumbling when she saw that there would be a tent selling all of the most popular nuts. Maisy loved pistachios and unlike the bananas that Granny wanted, Maisy loved that they were green. Licking her lips, Maisy made her way past all the parents and their noisy little charges, trying to get to the market for those bananas! Granny would not be happy if she came home without them.

Day 3 #100DaysOfThoseDays

Today is World Bookmark Day https://gloriawriteshere.wordpress.com/ (February 25th)

“Maisy, go down to the market and get me a bunch of bananas. Make sure they are not the green ones. I want to make banana bread to bring to Granny’s tomorrow.”

“Will you make one for us too?”

“You know I always make two! Now, get…I’d like to get started.”

Maisy slipped out the front door and was shocked at the scene in front of her brownstone apartment. There were people lined up as far as she could see to the left and the right. The rows of people were at least five if not six or seven deep. She could get lost just outside her house. How was she going to get through all those people and not spill something down her pants leg? Looking at the front stoop two doors down, Maisy finally had the opportunity to see what all the hype was about. Leaning slightly forward, so as to not fall over the rusting wrought iron handrails, she saw what everyone was looking at.

By now Maisy had forgotten all about the banana bread and was now fixated on…

The group that had congregated at the intersection. There were about 10 people and they were all dressed in Mexican clothing. The funny thing was they were just standing there. I couldn’t hear any music and I certainly didn’t see anyone dancing. I wondered if there was supposed to be some sort of parade or something with all these people lined up and down the street. I decided my best bet would be to go down the step and see if there was anyone who looked friendly enough to chat with.

As I made my way down the steps people near my building turned and looked at me. Their glares felt like I was disturbing something but as I had noticed when I walked out, there was no music, no festivities, or at least none that I could see yet. A man in a jeans coat turned to his side a bit to let me walk by but since he turned and his back was away from me I took that as not an invitation to chat! The peoople lined up didn’t seem to mind stepping out of my way but nobody made eye contact and noone greeted me in any way that seemed friendly. I was about halfway through the rows of people.

I continued making my way when a small, old woman looked up at me as I tried to pass.
“Here, dear, you can stand by me,” she said.
I took this as an opportunity to find out what exactly was going on.

“Good morning,” I said cheerfully. “I didn’t know there was anything special happening today! I only live a few buildings down and I was so surprised to see all these people lined up.”

“Well, I’m surprised you haven’t heard the news. There is a giant truck coming from the Mexican border. No one is certain what is on the truck but people have some ideas. I think it’s going to be bags and bags of Tortilla Chips. I heard they make them from fresh corn in Mexico.”

“Maybe,” I said, trying not to roll my eyes. A truck of tortilla chips? Where on earth did she get that idea? And why was everyone dressed up?

Maisy’s mind was spinning in circles! Mexican fiesta? Mexican food? There wasn’t anything here to hint at what was coming in this supposed truck! Maybe I’d better get down to get those bananas before it gets any busier, she thought.

“I’ll be right back,” Maisy said to the old woman.

“No problem, dear, I will save you a spot for when the truck gets here.” The old woman beamed with excitement and anticipation.

Maisy began moving through the crowd again, excusing herself as she bumped into people who seemed so oblivious to her that they didn’t even step aside to let her by. As she neared the opening she could hear someone talking in just above a whisper, coming from the center of the small group in the intersection. She nudged her way past the last line of bystanders and saw what was at least the beginning of the event. There, in the middle of the street were four men and four women, all dressed in beautiful, bright costumes, and they stood around a chair, almost like a throne that had been placed right in the middle of the street. Sitting in the chair was an old man.

At the base of the chair, surrounding the old man’s feet were at least a dozen small children. They sat mesmerized by the old man. He held a book and was quietly reading to the small children. The words he spoke were Spanish, so she couldn’t understand, but she assumed it was a children’s story by the way the children sat so quietly, listening to the man. Then just as soon as she had seen all the little children the old man put a bookmark on the page he had been reading and closed the book. Maisy could hear groans from the children, they obviously wanted him to continue.

Then, as if out of nowhere a huge tractor-trailer came slowly down the road on the right of the crowd, and the people began to move out of the way of the giant vehicle.