Brooklyn Bridge

Friday Fictioneers — The Prodigal Son

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The fog swallowed the East River like a secret, cloaking the Brooklyn Bridge in silence. Ellen stood at the edge, coat wrapped tight, watching the world blur.

She and her teenage son had a falling out five years earlier, something from which there was no going back. She thought she had lost her only child and that she’d never hear from him again.

She’d read the letter again: “Home soon. Wait by the bridge.” The mist thickened, but she waited, heart tethered to hope. Then, through the gray, a shadow, slowly forming. She smiled. He had found his way back.

(100 words)

Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers prompt. Photo credit: Roger Bultot.

Four Line Fiction — The Long Walk Home

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Even though it was a hassle with him living in Brooklyn and her living in Manhattan, they’d been regularly seeing each other for around nine months and Carolyn thought it was time for their relationship to evolve to the next level, suggesting that they should get a place together.

But Kevin was two years younger than Carolyn and he just wasn’t ready to make the commitment she was apparently seeking when she told him that she thought it was time for him to shit or get off the pot.

Kevin said he wasn’t there yet and he needed more time, but Carolyn said that her biological clock was ticking and that she couldn’t wait indefinitely for him to finally come around, so she stood up, put on her coat and boots, grabbed her purse and umbrella, and left Kevin’s flat.

She tried to find a taxi, but the snowstorm made finding one close to impossible and the subway trains were running late, so Carolyn pulled her coat collar tight around her neck and started the trek back into Manhattan across the Brooklyn Bridge, the tears rolling down her cheeks keeping her face perhaps a little warmer against the frigid air.

Written for Greg’s Four Line Fiction prompt. Photo credit: Shannon Stapleton/Newscom/Reuters.

FBI: Spam Killer

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Okay, yes, I admit it. Sometimes I can be like a dog with a bone. I won’t let go. I’ve been this way with regard to the recent disappearing spam phenomenon. I’ve been going back and forth with the happiness engineers insisting that something has changed, that something is different. I’m tired of being told nothing has changed other than I’m getting less spam than I did before.

In my last contact with the HEs, I wrote…

In the middle of this month, suddenly my daily spam comments dropped from double digits to zero on most days. I know spam comes and goes and the daily fluctuations can be significant. But I never remember a time when I was consistently getting no spam comments day after day.

I’m not the only blogger who has had this happen. I may be the only one who has contacted WordPress about it, but based upon comments I’ve received to several of my posts on this matter as well as posts from some other bloggers that I’ve read, others have seen the same fall off from dozens of daily spam comments to zero.

I'd be delighted if suddenly all of the spammers who used to comment on my blog have, all at once, lost interest in me or saw the error of their ways and gave up the spammer life. But I doubt that’s the case.

Well, I finally received the definitive answer today.

I actually think the FBI may have helped you out here! https://www.fbi.gov/news/ stories/fbi-partners-dismantle-qakbot-infrastructure-in-multinational-cyber-takedown.

At the end of August they took down a large botnet that was being used for all sorts of malicious purposes. I would strongly suspect that this botnet was involved in posting large amounts of spam, and the spammers have not yet recovered from it.

So now we know. It’s not that any spam-related changes were implemented by WordPress or Akismet or Jetpack. No, it was the crack Federal Bureau of Investigation that disrupted and dismantled a malware and botnet farm, and that is the reason why we’re getting no more spam comments in our spam folders on WordPress.

And if you believe that, I’ve got a bridge to Brooklyn that I’d like to sell you.

Thursday Inspiration — The Curio Shop

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“What’s that you’re holding?” Jacob asked.

“It’s mine!” Hanks said, shielding what he had in his hands.

“I didn’t ask who it belongs to,” Jacob said. “I asked what it is.”

“It’s a pendant that was made by an indigenous people probably hundreds of years ago,” Hank responded.

“May I see it?” Jacob asked.

Hank reluctantly handed the pendant to Jacob. “Be careful with it. It’s a priceless artifact.” Hank said.

Jacob examined the pendant when Hank handed it to him. “Where did you get this?” he asked Hank.

“I bought it at a curio shop downtown,” Hank answered. “Why?”

“Did you examine it carefully before you purchased it?”

“Of course I did,” Hank said, somewhat defensively. “The guy said it was genuine.”

“Did you happen to see what was stamped on the back of the pendant?”

“You mean where it says ‘Made in China?’ Yeah, I saw that,” Hank admitted. “But the curio shop owner assured me that the ancient Chinese culture from which the pendant was found was known to engrave their creations in that manner.”

“Hank,” Jacob said. “I have in my pocket the deed to the Brooklyn Bridge that I’d be will to sell to you for a very attractive price.”

Written for Jim Adams Thursday Inspiration prompt, where the word is “mine.” Also for these daily prompts: My Visual Blog (pendant), and Word of the Day Challenge (indigenous).