Session February 14, 2015

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“The earthquake only lasted a few second but many huts collapsed”

by RC

They say that mountain goats are very good with rocks—climbing, that is, or jumping. It is their constant environment from birth. Like a giraffe which must get up immediately and start kicking, they start jumping, right out of the womb.

Nevertheless, during the recent catastrophe in the little mountain town in Kazikstan, where I happened to be doing some work for the United Nations relief agency, I was really stunned. It so happens that mountain goats are commonplace there, because the town sits hard up against a massive rocky ledge, and a herd was  grazing near the town when it happened. Since I was out in the open at the time with many others, handing out supplies, we came through pretty well, but the people in town not so well. The earthquake only lasted a few seconds, but many huts collapsed.

Immediately afterwards I chanced to glance upward and my eyes froze on a spot up on the rock wall. Whereas most of the goats had scampered away at the first tremor, one stout, muscled looking animal had decided on a different tactic. He must have jumped straight up, for there he was perched precariously on a couple of tiny outcroppings at least twelve feet up, and protected by the sheer strength of the wall.

Of course, I brought that goat home. Because of my position, I have connections. Now, I am traveling the country with my one-goat-show and making more than I dreamed. I also no longer work for the U.N.

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"Geno called for the dog but it wouldn't come."
by GS

Inane
The transformation was unbelievable. One day Geno had a Golden Retriever, and the very next day it was a large turtle. Probably someone had played a practical joke on her, so she decided to go along with it and took her new pet to the shore. Goldie had always run into the water at every opportunity but her new pet, now named Crawler, hesitated on the shore. Geno really missed her usual companion, so she called for the dog, but it wouldn't come. More likely, it couldn't come, since the prankster had removed it. Geno settled down to watch Crawler and didn't mind getting her shoes wet as the water rose. Nevertheless, this adventure needed to end sometime, so Geno decided to make turtle soup.

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"Blaine concealed the gun so no-one suspected anything out of the ordinary was going to happen."

By CC

Blaine kept his opinions to himself, which may have contributed to his growing sense of frustration with the way the world seemed to be headed. He had developed the habit of twirling his beard with his fingers while the read each of the 25 newspapers he had delivered to his door every day. Eventually he began twirling his moustache. By the time he ran out of hair to twirl – that in his nose and ears not being long enough to suffice, and the hair on his head being too difficult to reach – he had decided to take action and shoot one of the bastards.

He got up and looked at himself in the mirror. Spiffy, he thought, adjusting his glasses. At least he would look good in the newspaper. “Blaine Goodson, an octogenarian veteran, snapped today and began shooting parking meters at City Hall before moving on to the vending machines and finally the elevator controls.”  Yes. But how to make it a reality?

Blaine concealed the gun so no one suspected anything out of the ordinary was going to happen. He put his hat over it, and set out for City Hall. However, his neighbor, Cora Smithers, upon seeing him for the first time in weeks ran out her front door in excitement. She had nurtured a longstanding crush on Blaine since her husband Tooley had passed on years before, and the striking figure Blaine now cut was too much for her increasingly poor self control. She rushed up to him and bowled him over. The hat went flying and the gun skittered into the gutter and fell into a storm drain, where the resounding bang when it went off restored Cora to her senses. She quickly climbed off Blaine and rushed back into her house. Blaine discovered one of his twirls had gone askew in the crush. He fingered it gently, as if it were a broken limb. Oh well, he thought, rising to his feet. Tomorrow is another day.

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"I can't take this anymore! Don't call me again!" cried Renata as she slammed down the phone.
by RMAF

"I can't take this anymore! Don't call me ever again!" cried Renata as she slammed down the phone. She left the French playboy Francois Pierre Johnboy Monique, then Mademoiselle Renata went back home to sponge off her parents and reside in her childhood playhouse where the tea was hot and the rent was free.