This website offers a variety of snack-sized stories. Tasty little lies — appetizers, that will enhance your larger novel cravings. New stories may pop-up at any time, but generally, they will be posted on a Wednesday, Thursday, or a Friday — Most people are happier when the weekend is in sight, and so are readers;)
This week in the series; ‘Adventures of Catbaby’ we have Episode 8—’Blue Man’
It’s not like I’m obsessed. I just like watching her. I look at her a lot…but that’s not a crime. It’s not hurting anyone—it’s not like I’m a weirdo; I work; I pay taxes. I buy Girl Scout cookies.
Other than her, I watch people, and honestly, I prefer standing by myself, observing, and listening in on other people’s conversations. They’re so creepy and dishonest. Only saying the things they think the other person wants to hear. They’re fakers.
But I’m sincere and extremely excited as I take a peek. I know, she knows, I’m watching. She flaunts her wet, naked body—she looks straight at me.
If only my goldfish could talk, she’d be perfect.
That’s assuming she’s a female.
“Let go! Mine!” the boy yelled.
“Nooooo—it’s mine!” the girl screamed.
The toddlers competed in a fierce tug-of-war; a stuffed teddy bear, the object of their affection. The boy clung tight to one fuzzy arm, as the older girl reeled him in, twisting and flopping like a thirty-pound tuna.
The struggle escalated to wrestling on the floor. Suddenly, the boy let out a wailing shriek.
Separating them, the mother saw the red welt on his arm and scolded the girl. “We don’t bite!”
As a spider scurried back to its web full of babies under the sofa, it thought, ‘But we do.’
I felt zombie-like, as I staggered through the airport.
My odyssey so far had three weather delays and two re-routes. I was booked on the red-eye in an hour and I needed a cup of coffee—bad.
“What can I get you, sir?”
“Latte, Frappuccino, Expresso, Iced…”
“Regular or decaffeinated?”
“Excellent choice. We have ‘Lighty Brighty,’ ‘Roasty Toasty,’ or ‘Lava Java’?”
“Uh… we’re still talking coffee, right?”
“Of course sir.”
“I’ll try the ‘Roasty Toasty.’”
Glancing up at my planes status, ‘Delayed’ popped up next to my flight.
Sliding the coffee toward me, he said, “That’ll be fourteen dollars, sir.”
”Good one,” I said, before realizing he wasn’t joking. I swipe my Visa, adding, “Of course, it will.”