41 posts tagged “100 words”

Joanne loved playing poker with her friends.
They played for dimes but it was the side bets that made it all worth it.  These were private wagers of some consequence, the details of which were only known to the parties involved.
Dares really.
Already she’d bought heroin at midnight in a very “bad” neighborhood.  She’d had Sheila sell some unwashed panties on eBay.  Marcia had been made to confront her husband’s mistress and convinced the girl to steal from him.  They were all going to Vegas on the proceeds.
Joanne worried that she would back out on the carjacking though.

Bill Robinson invaded my dreams last night. Tapping down an impossibly tall staircase suspended in mid air. He did a devastating routine, set the stage on fire. Tapped until blood poured out like sweat, pooling at his feet. I could barely keep sight of him. He was spectacular.

He finished with a triple flip, landing right in front of me on one knee.

I was nonplussed. “How could you demean yourself, shining it up with that little curly topped white girl?

“I seem to remember,” he replied, “that you spent a good portion of the ‘70’s running around yelling DY-NO- MITE!”

Sammy Davis Junior invaded my dreams last night. Cool sixty’s Rat Pack Sammy. Not the aging hipster that made me wince when I got old enough to understand.

I didn’t make too much of the bit of shining he did with Sinatra. He didn’t make too much of my not having anything approaching talent. He offered to do “Bo Jangles” but I demurred. He did some singing, a little dancing.

We drank cocktails and he scandalized me with tales of the parties. The women, my God, the women. He showed me pictures.

He even let me hold his glass eye.

Duke Ellington invaded my dreams last night looking like the incarnation of God Himself.  Or at least how I’ve imagined God to look.  Duke was all energy and genius barely noticing me for the piano before him but welcoming all the same.

He played a few bars of something light and playful and birds filled the air.  He shifted to something cool and moody and the seas parted for the dry land.  The rhythm section kicked in and there were creeping things aplenty.

Duke sang a riff of something lovely and simple heralding the gardener and her husband.

God smiled.

"Oh it'll be fun," she said. "We'll be comrades in arms together. We'll support one another.

Then she promptly stuck out her tongue and thumbed her nose at me when she finished on time and I labored until today, the last day of the grace period.

Read the whole batch here, warts and all. "We should do May together," said she. Fat chance.

I'm going to bed.

D.W. Griffith sauntered into my dreams last night, barely suppressing a leer.

"I'm brilliant you know," says he.

I try to ignore him. But he won't go away.

"I made over $18 million on a movie released in 1915. Tickets were only $2 in those days you know."

I pretend to tie my shoes. "I pioneered many of the film techniques still used in making movies today."

I reset my watch.

"The Klan still uses BIRTH OF A NATION as a recruitment film."

Enough. I pick up an errant brick and use it to deliver a savage beating. It helps.

Richard Pryor invaded my dreams last night, walking, pre-coke accident - no scars.

"What the hell's goin' on? I'm not dead yet!"

Yeah but you been sick so long, it seems like it.

"That's low man. So why am I here?"

When I was a kid I used to risk an ass whooping and sneak a listen at your albums. You were a big influence.

"No shit?"

Yeah.

"So this a dream right?" I nodded. "So I can reach into my pocket and pull out a pipe right?"

Rich, that stuff is killing you man.

"Shut up, it's your dream."

James stood in front of over 200 people awaiting the march of his bride.  He’d been anticipating this moment for weeks.  Dreamed of nothing else for the last three nights.  Too bad it would be for naught.  He’d be dead within three weeks.  Sealed his fate when he put off buying new tires to have enough money to purchase a wedding ring.  The old tires were as bald as James’ round little head.  But his bride was worth it.  She’d looked past his shortcomings to love the man.  He happily fingered the ring in his pocket as the march began.

Margaret foresaw the instant of her own death clear as day.  Unfortunately she had no time to prepare.  There were final exams to consider and the wedding preparations.  By Tuesday she needed to finish that History paper and Wednesday was the final fitting for the bridesmaids.  Her parents were due in on Friday and the rehearsal dinner was that night.  She’d accepted that job in Chicago but now wondered if she should with her impending demise.  It never crossed her mind to spare – or at least prepare - her groom.  He would only survive her by a few scant days.