Open to Interpretation


The five Asian tourists were exploring the many parks that dotted the city of Brussels. One of them gasped and pointed to a statue located on a patio at one edge of the park. She and her four companions started laughing and they excitedly ran toward the statue to investigate.

“We have to take a picture of this,” Jin said, grabbing the camera, while the other four posed directly in front of the statue.

“What do you think this statue means?” asked Sook.

“I don’t know,” said Jade. “But to me it looks like a man straddling a giant vagina.”

(100 words)

Written for this week’s 100 Word Wednesday challenge from Bikurgurl.

For the record, I have no idea where this statue is located and it probably isn’t intended to represent a guy straddling a giant vagina, but that’s what I saw when I first saw Bikurgurl’s photo, so that’s what I went with. I’d love to know what the statue really is and where it’s located.

Space Junk


Henry was thrilled when his boss at the Air and Space Museum told him he could design a new exhibit to demonstrate twentieth century space exploration. “Let me see what you can do, Henry,” his boss told him.

After taking a couple of days to come up with his killer idea for the exhibit, Henry got things rolling. He wanted it to be a surprise, so he cordoned off the exhibit space with opaque plastic sheeting and worked diligently to bring his idea to fruition.

Over the next few weeks, models of various spacecraft and satellites were delivered and assembled in the exhibit area. The walls, ceiling, and floor were painted to resemble outer space.

The time came for Henry to unveil the new museum exhibit. Henry asked his boss to meet him there just after the museum closed the night before the big reveal.

With a dramatic flair, Henry let the opaque plastic sheets fall to the floor. “I call it Space Junk,” Henry proudly announced.

Henry’s boss gasped; he couldn’t conceal his visceral reaction to the exhibit. “It’s hideous,” he said. “Take this monstrosity down immediately.”

(188 words)

Written for this week’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt. Also for today’s one-word prompt, “visceral.”

Photo credit: A Mixed Bag

Squeeze Play


“This is the last time I am going to do this,” Betsy said. She squeezed the pimple on his back and the pus oozed out. She dabbed it with a tissue.

“But I can’t reach them,” Martin whined. “They’re on my back.”

“You need to go see a dermatologist. This ooze is grossing me out.”

“I’m not going to the doctor,” Martin insisted. “I can’t afford it. Besides, you know you love it. You volunteered to do it in the first place.”

“Yeah, that was when you had that one isolated zit,” Betsy said. “But now you’re getting them all over your back and I just can’t do this anymore.”

“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore?” Martin asked.

“Either you go to the dermatologist and get this treated properly or you’ll just have to live with zits on your back,” Betsy said.

“You’re a freakin’ nurse, for crissake.” Martin said. “This is nothing compared to the crap you have to deal with at the hospital.”

“True, but when my shift is over I don’t want to have to come home and deal with your gross back acne,” Betsy said.

“You can be such a bitch,” Martin  said angrily.

“Okay, fine,” Betsy said. “Oh look, here’s another one. It’s a big one. Let me take care of this for you, Sweetie.”

Martin screamed out in pain as the knife plunged deep into his back.

Written for today’s one-word daily prompt, “ooze.”

A Masterpiece


I lied. “Yes, I have repaired, resurfaced, and painted probably dozens of wrought iron fences like these.”

The estate’s property manager tilted his head down so he could see me clearly over his reading glasses. Then he glanced down at the written proposal I had given to him.

I needed the work. I’d been doing odd jobs ever since I got discharged from the army sixteen month earlier and some of them included repairing and painting fences. Wood fences. So it was just a little white lie.

“Check my references,” I said. All the names on the list were my army buddies who were willing to vouch for me even though I’d never done any handyman work for any of them.

“Fine,” he said. “If your references check out, you can start the day after tomorrow.”

It took me almost two weeks to complete the work, and the property manager told me that I had far exceeded his expectations. Then he told me the owner called my work “a masterpiece.”

(170 words)

Written for this week’s FFfAW challenge from Priceless Joy.

A Good Idea at the Time

face punch

The car pulled up next to mine at the rural intersection and honked its horn. Both Pat and I looked over and saw a guy in the front passenger seat move his hand and arm, signaling me to roll down my car’s window, which I did.

“Are you the dickheads who were out with Claire and Mary tonight?” The guy asked.

“Oh shit,” Pat exclaimed. “Hit the gas.” I punched it, but the car’s engine trembled and I felt the car lurch forward before the engine sputtered out and the car came to a halt.

Pat and I had just dropped off our dates and we were heading back to the apartment we shared. Pat’s girlfriend, Mary, thought it would be fun to fix me up with her friend Claire. I was never a fan of fix-ups, but Pat persuaded me to go along. “It will make Mary happy,” he said. “And Claire is hot!”

My stalled car was now surrounded by four rather large, thuggish looking guys. One of them on Pat’s side of the car, asked “Which one of you assholes was with Claire tonight?” Without hesitation, Pat pointed towards me.

“You, huh?” said a voice coming from my side of the car. I turned my head around to look at the guy who was talking just in time to feel a fist punch me hard in the mouth. “Stay the fuck away from her or next time you’ll wake up dead.” With that, he and his buddies jumped back into their car and sped away.

I was literally seeing stars. The pain was intense and I felt blood running down my chin from my mouth. I looked in the car’s rear view mirror and saw that I was missing one of my front teeth and the other was loose and almost hanging by a thread.

“What the fuck?” I said, looking at Pat.

“Yeah, sorry dude,” he said. “I probably should have told you that Claire’s married. The guy who hit you is her husband.”

“You probably should have told me? Are you fucking kidding me? Why would you and Mary want to fix me up with a married woman?”

“I dunno,” Pat said, shrugging his shoulders. “Mary said Claire wasn’t happy. It seemed like, you know, a good idea at the time.”

Written for today’s one-word prompt, “lurch.”

The Property Brothers


“It’s too tiny,” Maggie insisted.

“What is?” Saul asked.

“Oh my god,” she answered. “Open your eyes. There’s barely room in there for one person at a time.”

Saul looked at the partially opened door to their master bathroom. “It’s functional.”

“That’s not a master bathroom,” Maggie countered. “It’s a small closet with plumbing.”

“It is what it is and it does what it’s supposed to do,” Saul said.

“Fine,” said Maggie. “I’m calling up those guys from HGTV. You know, those two guys who fix houses.”

“You mean The Property Bothers?” Saul chuckled. “Good luck with that!”

(98 words)

Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers challenge from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.