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Saturday, September 22, 2012

The Verbal Contract

"My kingdom for a croissant,” she muttered to herself as she tried to ignore her grumbling tummy.

At least she thought it was only to herself.

Several minutes later, in walks her husband with a croissant in a bag for her and a smirk on his face. 

“Now your kingdom is mine. You have to give it to me, you know. It was a verbal contract.”

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Psychically Connected

She awoke at precisely 5:28AM. Why that time? She imagined it had to do with him. They were psychically connected, after all. 

The first thought to enter her mind was, “He must have landed by now…but safely?” 

His flight left at midnight and was to land nearly four hours later, so he must be on the ground by now. The hurricane had luckily cleared away just in time. He was likely still at the airport, even though he only had carry-on. Nothing goes quickly at the airport, after all, and when you have a piece of equipment which “looks potentially dangerous” he’ll likely have to unpack it and show them precisely what a helium leak detector/ mas-spectrometer actually is and explain extensively how very un-dangerous it is.

Saturday, September 8, 2012

A Grand Irish Wake

The three old men stood side by side, laagers in hand, tears in their eyes, singing in perfect harmony. Long removed brogues suddenly appeared as they sang.

...Look at the coffin with golden handles...isn’t it grand, boys,  to be bloody well dead? Let’s not have a sniffle. Let’s have a bloody good cry and always remember, the longer you live the sooner you bloody well die…  

“Ah, Tommy would have loved to be here,” Michael said sadly, wiping away a tear.

“To be sure he would,” Patrick replied after a generous gulp from his mug, “Tommy loved a wake better than anybody.”

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Friends No Matter What

 Logan cradled the scraggly tabby as lovingly as he would a long-haired Angora primped and ready for show.

He took her out to the reception area as he gently cooed, “Let’s go see your mama and tell her you have to stay overnight. A night of peace is what you need, Bellisima. It’s convincing Mrs. Silverstein that’s going to be tough.”

He plastered a smile on his face before facing the Cat Lady as everyone affectionately called her.

That done and after sending a softly weeping Cat Lady away--probably to find yet another stray to bring to him-- he went to the back scratching the cat’s ears.

“Simone, Bellisima needs rest.  Could you....?”  He froze in his tracks gaping at the last person he expected to see here at his vet office.