Janet Flash: Mad Libs

by Michael Seese

Something a little different this week...

Last Tuesday, Janet Reid posted a mini-contest. Having read a Laura Lippman tweet:

Janet challenged us to replace "missing credit card" with a new three word phrase, and "the filter in the dishwasher" with a location (word count not specified.)

My entry was kinda dark:

I knew that I would find the evil voices somewhere in the house, but I had no money on the television, which hasn't worked for years. Or the kitchen, with its wainscoted walls laughing at me. Again. Or the knife drawer, empty, save for one.

Or the imposter, sleeping next to me.

Mine, along with several others, got a shout-out a few days later because "you guyz are storytellers to your finger tips. Even with something this short, and this limited, many of you wrote stories. I'm in awe."

Then...

Saturday morning, she created a follow-up contest. So enamored was Janet with Adele's entry:


I knew that I would find my three emergency passports somewhere in my house, but I had no money on in his sock drawer, under his gun.
 
That she asked us to write the next couple lines, thirty words max. Not to blow my own horn, but I read about the contest at 6:45 p.m., 15 minutes before the deadline. Still, I came up with:

I knew that I would find my three emergency passports somewhere in my house, but I had no money on in his sock drawer, under his gun.

The floorboard creaked. One second too late.

I'd forgotten what chloroform smells like. Sweet. Seductive. Sinister.

When I refound consciousness, an unfamiliar voice -- out there -- intoned.

"Ashes to ashes..."


I must say, I'm pretty darned proud. Results (hopefully) tomorrow.