nose

MFFFC — Not Welcomed After All These Years

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“Excuse me. Excuse me. Do you mind?” the lizard said. “This is my head. MY head. Not a perch. Not a landing pad. MY. HEAD.”

The locust wheezed. “Just…, just give me a moment, friend. My legs are absolutely done.”

“I don’t want to hear your sob story,” the lizard said. “You have approximately three seconds before I remember what I had for breakfast yesterday. Spoiler: it had antennae.”

“You don’t understand. I have been underground for SEVENTEEN YEARS. Seventeen!” the locust complained. “Do you know what that’s like? Dark. Very, very dark. And cramped. Extraordinarily cramped.”

“That sounds like a you problem. Get. Off. My. Nose.”

“I just chewed through solid earth with these tiny mandibles!” the locust said. “Do you have any idea how exhausting that is?! I emerge into the glorious sunlight for the first time since 2009 and the first thing I find is your magnificent scaly head, and honestly, it felt like a sign.”

“Oh, it’s a sign alright,” the lizard smirked. “And the sign says GET OFF.”

“Just gimme five minutes, that’s all I need,” the locust pleaded. “Maybe ten. Possibly a nap.”

“A nap?! You just had a SEVENTEEN YEAR NAP!”

“That wasn’t a nap, my friend,” the locust said. “That was metamorphosis, and it is frankly exhausting work, none of which you would understand because you have never once had to reassemble your entire body from the inside out….”

“I am going to sneeze,” the lizard interrupted.

“Is that a threat?”

“It is a biological inevitability,” the lizard replied.

“Fine. Fine. I’m moving,” the locust said. “But for the record, you are the least welcoming thing I’ve encountered since resurfacing, and I landed near a cat first.

“Good luck and goodbye,” the lizard said.

“Seventeen years,” the locust said, “And I don’t even get a welcome back.”

Written for Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction Challenge. Photo credit: Philip Veater @ unsplash.

WDP — It’s Just Rude

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Bloganuary writing prompt
If you could make your pet understand one thing, what would it be?
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Our dog is a wonderful dog. I just have one bone to pick with her, so to speak. She seems to be compelled to stick her nose in people’s crotches or butts. Some visitors to our house don’t seem to be too bothered by that. But most don’t like it. So we need to get our dog to understand that it’s just rude to poke her nose in crotches and butts.

I’d also like to teach her to pee and poop on demand, but that’s a whole nother story.

SoCS — Who Knows?

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For today’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, Linda G. Hill has asked us to write a post using “nose,” “noes,” and “knows” in it.

In one of my briefest SoCS posts ever…

The Senate was deadlocked with 50 ayes to 50 noes on the bill before them. It took the Vice President, in her role as President of the Senate, to cast an aye vote, thus enabling the bill to win by that proverbial nose. Now the bill will go to the President to sign it into law, but who knows how long it will take for him to do so.

Friday Fictioneers — Broken Glass

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0c69accd-7a1d-41a5-a75f-c263834bcc78I was just about to go to the glass shop to get an estimate to replace the glass in the door when my wife stopped me.

“No, I don’t want you to fix it,” she said. “Leave the tape on the glass.”

“Why would you want to leave it that way?” I asked. “It looks terrible.”

“I want you to leave it that way,” she said, “so you will be reminded every time you enter our house the damage you do when you come home drunk. This time it was the glass you broke. Last time it was my nose.”

(100 words)

Written for the Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Dale Rogerson.