K. Pinella’s creative material
“Better butter my beans.”
“Better butter and pepper my beans.”
“Better butter and pepper my beans and broil my beef.”
“Better butter and pepper my beans, broil my beef, and bring my beverage.”
“Better butter and pepper my beans, broil my beef, bring my beverage, and burp me.”
“Better butter and pepper my beans, broil my beef, bring my beverage, burp, and bathe me.”
“Better butter and pepper my beans, broil my beef, bring my beverage, burp and bathe me and b . . . .”
Part 1: Pandemic
“Unh . . . ”
Part 2: Pandemonium
“Mwahaha . . .”
Part 3: Panacea
“Ah . . .”
Images: Pixabay
Part 1: Domestic Bliss
“Buck . . . buck . . .”
Part 2: Disturbance Behind the Screen
“Kuh . . . kuh . . . KACK . . .”
Part 3: Runaway
“Cluck . . . cluck . . .”
Candace pops in a coffee pod in the single-cup coffee maker. While waiting for her coffee, she looks around and sees two co-workers talking and laughing. Snatches of their conversation float her way, with the words “donuts” and “reception area” catching her attention. It’s customary at work for leftover food from a meeting to be set out by the lobby for anyone to partake. She thinks how timely to grab some donuts to drink along with her freshly brewed beverage. She ventures over to the waiting area and greets Inez, the receptionist, with a smile.
“Ooh, I see a big box of donuts,” Candace says, as she walks toward the food and lifts open the donut box. She picks the only Boston Creme donut in the bunch, bites into it and places it on a paper plate. She decides to take two more donuts, a glazed one and a coconut-flaked beauty. As she polishes off one of them and starts on another, she sees a group of senior buyers filing in the reception area with Lauren, a marketing executive, speaking loudly, “Welcome to our office. I’m glad you enjoyed the quick tour. We have breakfast for you here . . .”
While swallowing, Candace realizes the donuts were not officially leftovers yet. Her eagerness to dunk a donut in her coffee had blinded her from noticing the overall untouched state of the spread. Suddenly, she wishes she would disappear like the donuts she just downed.
Image: Pixabay
Life got to me —
So did rainy days and Mondays,
That’s why I’m now weaving baskets.
Just for a spell,
Until I can think of a story.
Then, I’ll call myself a story weaver.
Part 1: Imbibe-beery
“Hic!”
Part 2: Over-consumption
“Erp . . .”
Part 3: Eruption
“Unh!”
Image: Pixabay
Image: Pixabay
Leticia loves looking at Lenny while they lunch in the library lounge over little bowls of lettuce. She thinks starting with the Iceberg lettuce will help break the ice. Her friend, Rose, recommends she follow up with a robust salad laden with Romaine lettuce to get the romance rolling. Alternatively, she could offer a plate of spicy arugula as Lenny is anything but a “regulah” guy. To match Lenny’s Boston accent, Leticia finds she has to offer a bolder fare. Let us hope that endive makes the perfect ending to their growing love for each other.
Image: Pixabay
The daily grind grounds Pete to the ground, like the meat he grinds to make the daily meatball grinder, the star of The Carnery, his eatery and meat shop. Day in, day out, Pete is like the meat he first pounds with his mallet. His routine is not much different from how his father described his own time at the cannery back in the day. Nor the stories his grandfather told him way back when he was a carney. Hard work is stamped in his DNA. As Pete pounds away at the meat, he thinks how Connor, his son, seems to be enjoying the fruits of his labor. Pete sent Connor to the best schools and drummed into his head the idea of seizing every opportunity he sees. As a high-powered Wall Streeter, Connor is today a true carnivore.
Image: Pixabay
Louisa glances at the time on her computer. A quarter of an hour before meeting with the company president! Quickly, she takes her purse and suit jacket, stopping by the restroom to freshen up. She gives herself a once-over at the waist-length mirror. Her self-inspection halts at the perspiration soaking through the sides of her blouse. She rushes to rub her armpits with a paper towel. A vision of sweat seeping through her thin, light-colored suit jacket concerns her. Just then her eyes land on a mini-vending machine for sanitary pads.
With growing annoyance, she tries to attach the sticky side of the panty liner on the slippery lining of her suit jacket’s armhole. She’ll just clamp her armpits down on the makeshift sweat shields. She heads out to meet with the president.
The meeting begins without a hitch and some people come in to join them. As the meeting continues to go well, Louisa finds herself relaxing and enjoying the group. Toward the end, the tone starts to lighten up. They start getting up, sharing anecdotes, with one trying to be funnier than the other. Caught up with the others showing off their wit, Louisa thinks of a perfect tale. She makes grand gestures as she tries to impress her audience. Immediately, she realizes her mistake. One panty liner lands on the floor, while the other barely clings on to her skirt. This will be one story everyone will be talking about in the next meeting.
Cara considers herself a cool chick with chic taste of the highest pecking order. Chanel No. 5, her signature scent, leaves a come-hither fragrant trail. To amp up her avant-garde style and complement her charm, she decides to try a new procedure. One that cements her credence of being the ultimate trendsetter not only in clothes, but also in cosmetics. A believer in all things natural (even though she never goes au naturel), she has herself implanted into her favorite flowering plant – the rose. Rain or shine, she always has a rosy demeanor.
Image by Anna
