Second blog -- answers to an ocean of prompts |
Prompt: Write about whatever's on your mind on creation Saturday as Norb calls it. Have fun! ========== Creation Saturday? That means my witching hour. So, here it is! A configuration in my life, I can’t ride my broom for I am timorous to touch it since it dropped me off at the lip of a volcano... Such a pointless act! So I circle around it like a flame about a fire shimmering, twisting as the heat soars, scraping my skin. Yet, from the cradle raised in the magic of my witchery, I still rise on my own like hot air. Prompt: Your temp agency sends you to the White House as a cook, not realizing you checked the wrong box and do not know how to cook. ======== Huh?To the White House, what? Me, as a cook! Are you sure it is not a kook? Where are the alien UFOs? Take me away to your galaxy, please! Okay, now that I’ve screamed and ranted, back to reality. Heck, what do I know about how to cook? I’ll ask for the first lady’s help. Wait! She wouldn’t know it either. She’s so good looking and studied design so hard that I bet she never stepped into any kitchen. Well, back to the meat and potatoes of it. I gotta get to work. What do I do? What do I do? I know! I’m going to put in an order for two truckloads of Lay’s Potato chips. If I can serve them with every meal the Pres. will be happy and won’t utter his famous logo: You’re Fired! Then, I think I’ll make an excursion to the nearest posh Italian Restaurant. See if they can deliver everything and anything. Who’d know! The kitchen hands will be happy, too. They’ll keep quiet for having an easy day in the kitchen, and I’ll make sure most of the adulation goes to them. Okay, now that my grocery list is done, I am still keeping watch for that UFO that might want to rescue me. |