MFFFC — C’est Impossible

The bus driver stopped the bus, pulled back the emergency brake and ran around to the back of the vehicle. “Monsieur, s’il vous plaît, arrêtez ce que vous faites. Vous ne pouvez pas faire monter cette vache dans ce bus. Ce n’est pas possible,” he yelled, waving his arms.

The man looked at the bus driver and said, “Do you speak any English. I don’t speak French.”

“Oui, yes, I speak English,” the bus driver said. “What do you think you are doing? You cannot put that cow on this bus. It is not allowed and it most certainly will not fit in that door. It is much too narrow.”

“But I must,” the man said. “I have to get this cow to the port.”

“Oh mon Dieu,” the bus driver said, “Tu dois être fou. Monsieur, it is physics. That cow is too wide to fit through that narrow door. You need to get a truck or something used to transport animals. The bus is for people. Remove that cow avant d’appeler la police.”

“You want me to get a bloody lorry?” the man complained as he was backing the cow off the bus. “You bloody French aren’t very hospitable or accommodating are you?”


Written for Melissa’s Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge. Image credit: Henri Roger-Viollet.

One-Minute Fiction — Your Driver

Hi, Mom, I wanted to let you know that I can’t pick you up tonight for you to come over and have dinner with me, Ruth, and the kids.

No, no, everyone is fine, no one is sick or hurt. It’s just that I have to stay a little late at the office and won’t be able to get there to pick you up by five.

Yes, I know my job is demanding and I need to take it easy before I have a heart attack, Mom, but we still want you to come over tonight so I’ve arranged for a car to come pick you up and bring you to our place.

No, Mom, you’re not being a burden. The kids love you and look forward to when you come over.

Yes, Ruth and I love you, too.

So Mom, listen. I told the driver to go into the main entrance of the senior home and meet you by the piano in the lobby. He’ll be there at 5:00, okay? Yes, right by the piano. Okay? I love you, Mom. See you tonight.

About an hour later at a few minutes past five…

Mom, what’s wrong? What do you mean asleep? Well maybe he got there early and decided to rest his eyes. Wake him up.

No, he’s not a mob hitman, Mom. He’s just the driver for the car service I hired so you can come for dinner. Mom, what do you mean you wouldn’t get in the car with him if your life depended on it?

No, Mom, don’t hang up! Mom? Mom?


Written for Cyranny’s One-Minute Fiction.

A Day at the Races

white flag lap“Man, that guy has brass balls, doesn’t he?” Malcolm said. “I mean look at him. The dude’s totally unstoppable.”

“That’s true,” Manny said. “There’s nothing tentative about the way he’s driving.”

The fans were on their feet cheering wildly as his Indy car was about to go into the final lap and the race official waved the white flag. He had the benefit of a five second lead over the nearest driver behind him. Everyone knew that all of the Indy car records for this race were about to be shattered.

But then the driver inexplicably took his foot off of the accelerator and the cars behind him quickly zoomed by him. He ended up coming in eighth and the fans were in shock.

After the race, one of the reporters caught up with the driver and stuck a mic in his face. “What happened to you in that final lap?” the reporter asked.

“I don’t know,” the dejected driver said. “My mind just seemed to go blank.


Written for these daily prompts: Ragtag Daily Prompt (brass), Word of the Day Challenge (unstoppable), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (tentative), Your Daily Word Prompt (benefit), The Daily Spur (shattered), and Jibber Jabber (blank).

Dust and Drug Money

B2184EEF-35D0-4C6B-BB46-3175450612C5Dave managed to find a taxi to jump into, almost as much to escape the dust storm that suddenly enveloped the city of Amarillo, as to hide from the gang members who were after him.

“Where to, buddy?” the cab driver asked.

Dave noticed some movement from the corner of his eye and, turning his head, he saw three men emerging from the swirling dust and running toward the car. “Just step on it,” Dave commanded.

The taxi driver put the pedal to the metal and the car’s rear tires, spinning madly on the dusty surface of the street, finally gripped the road just in time to avoid the grabbing arms of the three pursuers.

After about a mile, Dave told the taxi driver to pull to the side of the road. “Listen, I gotta get outta town fast,” he said. “Take me to the Marriott and wait there for me. “I’m gonna pack my bag, grab my passport, and then you can drive me to the airport in Lubbock, where I’ll get a flight to El Paso and cross the border into Mexico there.”

“How do you propose to pay for all this, pal?” the taxi driver asked.

Dave pulled a thousand dollars from his wallet and handed it it to the driver. “This should cover it. Now get a move on.”

Once they got to the hotel, Dave jumped out of the cab and told the driver to wait for him. “How long do you want me to wait for you?” the driver asked.

“If I’m not back here in fifteen minutes,” Dave said, “assume that I’m dead.”

Twenty minutes later, the taxi driver was thinking to himself that this was the easiest thousand bucks he’d ever made. But as he started to pull away from the Marriott, three gang members approached the taxi and one shot the driver in the head.


Written for these daily prompts: Ragtag Daily Prompt (taxi), The Daily Spur (dust), Your Daily Word Prompt (hide), Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (movement), and Word of the Day Challenge (propose).

Tell the Story Challenge — The Texas Standoff

627363fe-8824-43f3-a72a-417096f5c09aI’ve been tagged by Sadje to tell the story about the image above. Image credit: William Webb.


Cecelia and her boyfriend, Matt, were surprised when they ran out of the local bank they had just robbed in the small, dusty southwestern Texas town. They had expected to find the driver of their getaway car waiting, with engine running, to whisk them away. Instead, they were faced with a U.S. Marshall in a business suit, pistols aimed at both of them, standing in the middle of the street.

Cecelia and Matt, each also armed with two pistols, stood there, pointing both of their guns at the marshall. “Your driver’s been apprehended and your getaway car has been impounded,” the marshall said. “There is a sharpshooter on the roof of the building across the street. So you might as well drop your weapons and come along all peaceable-like.”

“No way, lawman,” Cecelia said. “You ain’t takin’ us alive and we’ll take you down before you can get both of us.”

“Hold on, Babe,” Matt said, looking at Cecelia. “I ain’t ready to cash in my chips yet.” He kept one gun pointed at the marshall, but pointed the other one at Cecelia.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Matt?” Cecelia yelled in disbelief.

“Folks,” the marshall said, “it looks like what we got here is a good old fashioned Texas standoff. So before anyone gets hurt, why don’t you be a good boy and girl and lay your guns down?”

Matt started to put his guns down on the ground when the sound of gunfire filled the air. One witness claimed to have heard Cecelia yell at Matt, “You really are a goddam pussy,” before shooting him. Then, the witness said, she spun around shot the marshall just before the rooftop sharpshooter shot her.

By the time the smoke cleared there were three dead bodies on the street.


I’m now supposed to post an image and tag three bloggers to tell a story about the image below. But I’m going to throw this challenge open to anyone who is inspired by this image, which is the work of Brazilian artist Nele Azevedo.e4f75a3f-86e3-4390-96de-cca7df7c4ceb

FOWC with Fandango — Driver

FOWCWelcome to December 7, 2018 and to Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (aka, FOWC). It’s designed to fill the void after WordPress bailed on its daily one-word prompt.

I will be posting each day’s word just after midnight Pacific Time (US).

Today’s word is “driver.”

Write a post using that word. It can be prose, poetry, fiction, non-fiction. It can be any length. It can be just a picture or a drawing if you want. No holds barred, so to speak.

Once you are done, tag your post with #FOWC and create a pingback to this post if you are on WordPress. Or you can simply include a link to your post in the comments.

And be sure to read the posts of other bloggers who respond to this prompt. You will marvel at their creativity.