Flash: Sommelier

Aged to something less than perfection the scent wafting to his nostrils makes his nose twitch. It smells of fresh wet concrete, minerally; something he read somewhere but fitting.

“Boy!”

He slowly turns to the sound of the slurred word.

“Boy, I am ready to check out, get your ass over here.”

Leaning his mop against the wall he hurries to ring up the bottle of Mad Dog. He is the Sommelier of Skid Row.

FlashinthePan

Flash in the Pan is brought to you by the amazing Red of M3 fame

This week’s word is Sommelier. The word limit is 75 words. This one comes in at 75.

Hashtags: #flashfiction #getpublished

Flash in the Pan: Wave of Emotion Promotion

Do you wonder what that big beautiful blue book is in my side bar? Come on, ask me; no really ask me.

Thanks, I am glad you asked.

That my friends is the compilation of all the Spring Flash in the Pan, all of the authors in one place including little ole moi. Pretty awesome, right? I can now say I am a published author, my scribbling’s have made it into a book with the incredible writings of other really wonderful authors, all of whom are truly funny and talented.

I am in awe.

I am shaking in my high heels.

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Some of these talented authors have blogs others submit directly for book publication. There are a total of 16 authors and 168 pieces of great Flash Fiction in the Spring edition. Personally, I loved this set of words, the emotional peaks and valleys of elation to brokenhearted. I had a wonderful time crafting the stories, my first foray into writing to prompts and containing my word counts. Anyone who reads my blog regularly knows I can be loquacious at times.

If you enjoyed the Flash Fiction on my blog for Spring, I hope you will think about buying the complete set and supporting all the great authors who contributed. Flash in the Pan, Wave of Emotion is available in Paperback, Kindle, EPub or PDF (I of course bought the Paperback who wouldn’t want to see their name in print).

Well that is my plug for the day. I am really excited about this, yes I really am. I am excited about RedmundPro Publishing, a unique approach to the publishing world and one I am thrilled to be part of and happy to promote. In the future expect to see more books and authors promoted from RedmundPro.

Rubber Fat and Training

Each morning that I show up for a training session, I find myself staring at this lovely pair of rubber fat and muscle reproductions. I suspect someone somewhere thought used properly these would inspire me to work harder. Not at all, in fact these do nothing but inspire me to create X-rated pictures. Great globules of fake fat are not inspiring rubber muscle does not enthuse.

These are toys they leave us to play with after our workout, which is something to look forward to though. As we stand there, sweating glistening we can poke at the deep pocked (gad they even gave it cellulite) rubber fat dreaming of the day we will no longer have so much of it. We can stroke lovingly the deep red dense fake muscle and pretend someday we will have some, or even that we have some underneath our fat. I think the trainers at my gym leave these out not as demonstration models but rather so their clients can de-stress after workouts, so we can bounce, poke, prod and even tear a little. The result of my imaginative poking is this.

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That piece of paper is my days workout.

I have a fantastic trainer, though I often picture her in leather thigh high boots, a bustier with whip in hand (no this isn’t a twisted fantasy you have not discovered my dark secrets). My trainer has a great understanding of my limitations and works with me to find balance between my great desire not to re-injure and my need to get healthy. She is also a fantastic listener, I get a twofer with her, “move your ass” and girl-talk. Joellen (what a great joellen_2name, right) understands when I say, “I can’t do that”; I am not whining I am actually saying something within my injured body is not going to allow me to do what she is asking. I love this about her!

My trainer is like me, not quite normal on the social spectrum. She isn’t what you expect; her hair is like mine all spikey and unanticipated. She wears unmatched shoes, everyday it isn’t an accident. She isn’t bouncy; she doesn’t wear make-up to the gym (thank you). She has a brain between her ears (not saying this is like me only mentioning it). She doesn’t take herself too seriously but she has a very serious side and focus on a future beyond what she is doing today, right now. She is health conscious, diet conscious and can discuss with great insight and knowledge how our bodies work. I really appreciate this about her, it makes me trust her. What I like most, honestly and I hope if she reads this she isn’t offended, she is imperfect. In her imperfection, with her injuries that she has had to recover from she gives me and I am certain her other clients hope.

Right now I can get myself to the gym at least two mornings a week because (1) I pay her to make certain I move my muscles the right way and (2) I look forward to talking to her. We have agreed I don’t do squats (this is what you do in the woods when there are no public restrooms available) I do Plié or even Grand Plié, but I do not squat.

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I suspect she thinks the things that sometimes come out of my mouth are a bit odd; she just goes with it this is another thing I like about her. My guess is she knows I don’t like facing mirrors, ever. I find the entire sweating glistening, weight lifting, Plié and other for health reasons things we do at the gym quite undignified. There is nothing attractive about it. There is especially nothing attractive if you are zaftig.

I know I need to do more, I feel the difference she is helping me make in my health. Despite pornographic rubber fat at the trainer’s desk and the honest truth I find nothing wonderful in sweating I know I have to do this for me. Thankfully I have help along the way!

Flash: Reservations

Lines are long for a Sunday night; people fidget, children act out from boredom. Everyone watches as flights change from on-time to delayed or cancelled. Anger is palatable; in the Red Carpet line, a lone woman stands serene.

True approaches the desk, ahead of many waiting far longer than she, the agent politely greets her, “may I assist you with your reservations?”

“Thank you.”

Transaction complete, True saunters through security past lines. A riot ensues.

FlashinthePan

Flash in the Pan is brought to you by the amazing Red of M3 fame

The Hot Flash word is Reservations. The word limit is 75 words. This one comes in at exactly 75

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Hashtags: #flashfiction #getpublished

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