“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 !”
“Grandpa?”
“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.”
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