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It’s a twofer this week. First, you’ll get a peek into how my mind works. Why? Because I’m hoping someone will recognize what the heck is wrong with me and point me toward help. Second, I’ll actually write about this week’s letter. Prepare yourself.

One night I was lying in bed, as I’m prone to do (get it?), a word popped into my head that I haven’t thought of in a long time. Wherewithal. I thought, “Man, that’s such a great word. I should use that in the A-to-Z blog hop. But how?”

The Railroad Spike (Flash Fiction Fridays)

The rusted railroad spike fit perfectly in his hand. The steel’s heft provided enough weight to do serious damage if it came to that. And Patrick harbored no doubts. Based on the last three hours, it would come to that. His pursuers were relentless.

 

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Breakfast in Bed

There seems to be this glamorous image of eating breakfast in bed. Fluffy pillows, satiny sheets, sunshine streaming through the window. You awaken, every hair in place and minty-fresh breath, yawn, stretch, and admire the bounty your spouse and/or kids have placed before you.

Steaming coffee, fresh-squeezed OJ, eggs, bacon, fruit, and toast. Today’s paper folded neatly beside it all. A wondrous start to the day.