Monday, July 29, 2013

103. How to Rob a Bank Without Really Trying

I’d only worked at First National for about three years when it happened.  An elderly customer, Mrs. Oakton, came in and asked to speak to me privately in my office.  I took her coat, shut the glass door, and pulled out a chair for her.    

“Theo,” she said, handing me an envelope, “I need your help.” 
I thought maybe there was a document she wanted me to notarize, but instead it was a cashier’s check from B of A for 1.2 million dollars, in my name:  Theodore James Davis. 

She leaned back in her chair.  “Can you recommend the best way to invest the money?  This is what my deceased husband left me.” 
I was about to tell her that she should’ve had the check made out to the bank or herself, not me, and that I wasn’t that savvy with investments, but I could refer her to a certified financial planner, when she had a coughing fit.  I offered her some water, but she waved me off.  She reached into her purse and pulled out a tin of cough drops, inhaling one quickly. 

To my horror, her cough escalated into choking and her face turned blue.  I ran behind her chair and attempted the Heimlich maneuver. 
“Sharon!” I screamed out for my assistant, “Call 911!” 

The ambulance arrived quickly.  The paramedics did their best to band together to save her, but I knew she was dead even though legally they cannot say it until they get to the hospital. 
I’d forgotten all about the check until I got home that night and felt the envelope in my pants pocket.  I must have put it there in all the confusion. 

I probably would have returned the check if First National had not fired me.  They said I did not do enough to save her.  Screw them, I tried! 
B of A had no problem wiring the money to my new account in Canada.  Turns out, I am fairly savvy with investments after all.          

trifecta writing challenge/ exactly 333 words/ required word is "band"

Friday, July 26, 2013

102. Paul Newman's Eyes

Pool party

Utah sky
Ocean spray

Cool aqua
Yosemite blue
Champion cobalt

Blue jean
Turquoise powder

Forget me not
I want them all

Why does Benjamin Moore make it so difficult?

Monday, July 22, 2013

101. The Appointment

“Miss Percinetti?” she calls, pronouncing it right, “watch the floor, we just mopped.” 

You scurry back through the bright lights and past a yappy dog in another exam room. 

“Is everything okay?” you ask, “Are you going to have to drug her?” 

“She is, uh ... agitated,” the vet says.  “I just thought if she saw you, it might calm her.” 
You smile at the vet, but you secretly think the vet must be an idiot if she can’t handle a 5-pound tabby cat.  You wonder if you should switch vets.  You promise yourself you will Google new vets when you get back to the car.    

You walk into the sterile room and spy Tippy scrunched in the back corner of her cat carrier, hissing.  Tippy is not normally a hisser, but this situation seems to bring out the worst in her.  She sees you and thinks she’s saved.  She starts meowing loudly—Take me out of here!
You walk over and coo, Hey Tippy, it’s okay, I’m right here!  Just a quick exam and a few shots, that’s it!  I love you. You’re fine.

Tippy reaches her little paw through the side and you reach back to her, attempting to communicate with this darling fluffy creature that you have adored for going on 10 years now. 
Tippy claws your hand fiercely and draws blood. 

You are surprised, but try to act like you’re not, even as the blood is gushing from four perfectly symmetrical scratches. 
“Are you all right?” gasps the vet, immediately handing you some tissues. 

You tell here you’re fine, but you’re not fine.  You’re mad at Tippy.  Sweet little Tippy.  At home you charm her, but not here.         

Friday, July 19, 2013

100. Here Comes The Bride

“Let’s get married on a stage with magicians and live rabbits and fireworks!” squealed Rebecca enthusiastically.  Kevin sipped his water and silently wondered if it was too late to take the ring back. 

trifecta weekend challenge:  33 words, must include the three words above in bold

Monday, July 15, 2013

99. Her

She hung the clothes up on the line,
Drove us kids to school at nine,
Walked the dog, fed the cat,
Ran some errands, bought a hat,
Cooked some lunch for herself,
Dusted books upon the shelf.

But when we returned home we found
Her corpse crumpled on the ground.
Pills or gun, it doesn’t matter,
Our suburban ideal had shattered.

“She seemed happy,” neighbors said,
(this was after she was dead).
I hear her voice sometimes at night,
I see her ghost, pale and white,
Please think of her and shed a tear,
No one saw a crack in the veneer.

FICTION!  for trifecta, the word is "crack"

Friday, July 5, 2013

97. Job Hunt

I provided a detailed résumé, complete with legitimate references.  I filled out all your stupid paperwork.  I even did the requisite drug test (which I passed).  So why won’t you hire me, Mom?   

trifecta writing challenge / 33 word free-write