“We have nothing to fear but fear itself.”
Steven King* #quote
I wonder what we sound like to our echoes? Anyway onto the flash fiction!
If It's Broke, Fix It
“Ch-Ee-Ry-C-owwwwws!” Grandpa yelled one of his made up curses after he hit his thumb with a hammer. Grandma said he “had the mouth of a sailor” before he had Mom, but now refused to use real swear words in front of anyone. Something different always came out of his mouth every time, and he swore a lot.
“Monkey-dancin', rock-polishers...” he grumbled as he dropped the hammer to the floor and grit his teeth.
“You alright?” I asked.
He turned around to me and smiled. “Oh, I'm alright my wonderful granddaughter.” I remembered when he talked to Mom and Dad about watching over me for the weekend, (not that I needed a babysitter), but he never told them that he would be working on fixing the backyard door. It'd be nice if he wore out soon and went inside to relax so I could watch cartoons.
“N-oooo-dles sHoVeD-up MY soup!” Grandpa screamed again after a second try at the same nail. He found his target on the third try. But when he went for the next nail he hammered a finger with the hammer again. “QuEEns of England in the B-el-frY !”
“Yes my dearest granddaughter?” He smiled while holding back as much of the expressions of pain as he could.
“Maybe you should get glasses like Grandma's been telling you to.”