by Michael Seese
Talk about 11th hour. In this week's Janet contest, we were given the words:
I tossed them in my head, but could not come up with a story. I did come up with an opening line I liked (LOVED, actually), and went to sleep on it. In the breaks between waking up and falling back asleep, I came up with the details. I woke up around 8:30, wrote it, and posted it.
Here is "Lonely." I'm not crazy about the title. Maybe some day I'll come up with a better one.
She had a double wide heart, and a behind to match. Lonely beyond repair, Maggie would sit in her trailer and think of the men who'd come into her life, and never really left.
Darrel, whose face looked like it was cobbled together by Picasso and Dr. Frankenstein.
Edgar, so stiff he made robots look lively.
Al, he of the unshaven mug that felt like shagbark hickory in her hands.
Danny, the veterinarian who tried so hard to save Mr. Puff. For that effort, Maggie buried him beside her beloved pet.
The rest she just scattered across the north 40.
We'll know tomorrow how I did.