Rochelle, the moderator of this crazy group called the Friday Fictioneers, just announced that this week is her 3rd anniversary of taking over the reins. Incidentally, it is also my 150th story, which means I started just a few short weeks after she took over. It’s been quite the journey.
I must confess, I have thought about quitting sometimes, especially lately when I’ve been so busy. But I don’t want to, mostly because of all the great people I’ve gotten to know through this group. Also, I haven’t missed a week yet, and I put a lot of stock in precedent. I also think that it has helped my writing by making it more succinct. When you get in the habit of counting every word, you look for the strongest words, those that convey the most meaning. Efficient prose is generally good prose.
The bus was shaking and bumping like a twerking paint mixer. The man in Row 24 leaned forward to Row 23.
“I feel sick. Tell the driver to pull over.”
The man leaned forward. “Tell driver . . . sick . . . pull over.”
“Someone’s sick of wearing a pullover.”
“He knows a chick from Conover.”
“Someone wants chicken and cauliflower.”
The passenger in Row 1 tapped the driver. “Just wanted to tell you, someone in the back took Colombian karate, but the alligators didn’t bite.” There was the sound of retching.
The driver slammed the brakes. “Why didn’t anyone tell me he was sick?”