Years ago my dad bought a refrigerator for like $800 and paid for it with a check and then a couple months later I overheard him complaining to my stepmother that that goddamned check hadn’t cleared yet and it was screwing up his checkbook. This went on for months until he finally called the bank who told him to call the Sears and they told him they didn’t have any record of that transaction whatsoever. “Well now what am I supposed to do?” he said. “Enjoy your free refrigerator.” Which he did, but only because he kept that $800 on [Read More]
Storyweek’s collection of new and recent short-short or flash fiction limited to 150 words. How much story fits in 150 words? Just enough to leave you wanting to read more.
Check in from time-to-time for new ones.
My wife’s grandfather was a Bracero from Mexico in the ’50s. He’s a tough and charming man, 94, lives alone with some paid help afternoons. Last month he got one of his grandkids’ kids a job at McDonalds. He told them they should hire the kid, he bought a McMuffin, and they hired Albert. Saturday he told us, in Spanish because English hasn’t pierced his skull in 60 years, about an afternoon he’d had at the park. He met a younger woman (60s), and soon she asked how old he was. “How old do you think?” “Maybe in your 80s?” “My 80s? Hah. If I were still in my [Read More]
Long, long before caller ID, my dad would answer the phone, “Hi! How are ya?” which never failed to flummox the caller. My brother and I followed his example and managed to keep it up for several weeks until one evening, when Dad was working the swing shift, the phone rang, and after asking our stepmother if I could answer, after all it was my turn, I picked up and blurted, “Hi! How are you?” “What?” It was Dad. “How did? Goddammit, put your Stepmother on.” After she was done with the call Katie our stepmother said, “Your Dad says [Read More]
Jeebus, a couple weeks ago we went up to Monterey for a car race at Laguna Seca along with the brother-in-law and his two boys, 22 and 16, and the 22 year old decided he wanted to follow up his White Russian with a Long Island Iced Tea, and I looked at his dad, who looked back at me, and I said, “Jeebus, man, you need to learn some more cocktails, because now you’ve embarrassed me twice in front of the cocktail waitress,” and he looked back at me and smirked as if to say, “I have not even begun [Read More]
I have a good terrier with a weak heart. She’ll die early. She’s still young, just four, and her condition isn’t apparent unless she’s playing hard at fetch or chase the hose water. When it gets her, she stops, lies down, rolls over, breathes, and waits. It’s syncope — the light headedness you feel when you stand too fast. Her heart can’t keep pace with her legs and her lungs and eventually there isn’t enough blood to her brain. When she was a pup it would sneak up on her while she romped — Boom, and over she went. She’s [Read More]