Fiction Friday: [The Porcelain Predicament]

[I came across this article in the New York Times about how they're rolling out 'One-Sentence Stories' on Apple watches. Full disclosure: I didn't read the entire article. In fact, I barely got through the first few sentences. One, I'm not an Apple person. And two , I quickly lost interest when I couldn't tell the difference between these 'One-Sentence Stories' and their regular headlines. "So what's your point?" the readers asked. Well it's this: the actual headline made me think about containing an entire story in one sentence. This isn't a new concept. Plus, I've been a fan of Smith Magazine's Six-Word Memoirs for a while now. I suppose this was all a long winded way to explain why today's Fiction Friday is way shorter than this lead up! Enjoy!]


The weight of the divorce didn't truly hit me until I reached over and discovered the empty toilet paper roll.

Fiction Friday: [In Defense of Kitten Mittens]

[This week's Fiction Friday is an exercise I've seen around the old internet. It involves writing a story using only dialogue. Nothing else. Just dialogue. Enjoy]


“I don’t get it. Why would you want to put socks on the cat?”

“Not socks…mittens.”

“Because that makes it better?”

“No…ahhh…you just don’t understand. You have to watch the episode of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Charlie makes a commercial for Kitten Mittens…”

“Okay…literally the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“No…it’s hilarious. Anyway, he puts them on the kitten and it tries to walk, but it’s like it forgot how to use its paws or something. It’s seriously one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen.”

“So, what you’re really saying is that you want to make Mr. Binks look like an idiot.”

“No…you’re just not getting it.”

“Yeah, sorry. I don’t get why you want to torture my cat.”

“It’s not…ugh…look, we’ll just watch the episode and you’ll see.”

“I couldn’t be more excited.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

“Anyway, I’m going to be late for work. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

“Oh, and you better leave my cat alone…I’m serious. Don’t traumatize my cat.”

“Alright, alright…geez.”


“Psst, Mr. Binks…come see what I have for you…”


[For those that have yet to behold the amazingness that is Kitten Mittens (or Mittons, as Charlie spells it), click the cat: 😺]

Fiction Friday: [The Last First Date]

Mired in the most awkward silence of my life, I regret not concocting some sort of contingency plan. I wanted to. I really did, but my friend, Michelle, talked me out of it by telling me how ridiculous I was being. It’ll be interesting to see if we’re still friends by the end of the night.

After clearing his throat, in the phlegmiest, most disgusting way, my date starts to tell me a story about the time he got struck by lightning. How had he not led with that? In just a few sentences, the question’s answered. For the love of God…how does he make getting struck by lightning sound boring? I feel bad for a second, wondering if the jolt of electricity was what zapped his personality.

Tuning him out, I think about how I should have trusted my instincts and stuck to my ‘no blind dates’ rule. Then, I start to wonder how often LoveMatch gets sued for their misleading commercials. The ones that supposedly feature actual members of their site. This date is the polar opposite of the happy, beautiful people they feature. The ones that lean in toward one another while laughing at each other’s jokes. That stare at each other with googly eyes. Blech. There will most definitely not be a moment where I use any excuse to reach over and touch him.

The only thing getting me through is constantly reminding myself that, this isn’t just my first blind date, it’ll also be my last.

Ugh, I suppose I should try and pay attention…

“…so they said I was lucky to be alive and I told them to go get struck by lightning and then tell me how lucky they feel.”

No one’s more surprised than I am when I laugh. And, despite the fact that I know he hadn’t meant to be funny, he laughs, too. Then, after taking a considerable gulp of wine, he looks directly at me for the first time all night.

Wait, what’s happening?

 Staring into his eyes, I have to admit that they’re beautiful. The nervousness they reflect is actually endearing. I catch a hint of a sparkle as his smile grows. Maybe the commercials were more accurate than I gave them credit for. Maybe it’s just been my bad attitude ruining the date.

Looks like Michelle and I can still be friends.

Then, he clears his throat again.

Nope, friendship’s over.