Or at least not dead. I’m not even — really == worse I just had a really bad cough over night, so didn’t sleep much, (mostly because I’d forgotten to buy cough syrup after the great coughening induced by blood pressure meds.)
And this morning I was really, really odd. I felt I couldn’t even. So this is the first time I got online all day.
I’m assured from watching this crud progress with younger son that the cough is the last stage and might drag three days, but I’ll be sure to have cough syrup on hand so I can sleep tonight.
Please forgive me. Worst part, I didn’t even write. Just grumpy and blah, and coughing.
I will do promo post tomorrow.
According To Hoyt 
Welcome back!
I still want that Chef Mystery:
Chef Boys-Hardy
… The Mystery of Raving Ollie!
We look forward to reading yours.
OK.
=====
Slumped in a corner, his bloody paper tuque nearly falling off, the fat white-coated man whined. “I’m hungry.”
Barricaded across the room, Stan stared at the blood seeping from the fat man’s leg. No flesh remained below the knee, but Fatso no longer could twist his leg high enough to get a bite. Stan prayed the chains would hold, but one leg iron had fallen off when there was no longer flesh to hold it in place.
Foot bones look weird.
“I’m hungry.” A little bubbling in the fat man’s throat tried to swallow the last sound.
Stan had one remaining ploy. He tossed the can with part of a red and green label softly at the fat man, who grabbed it fiercely. He quivered. “I’m hungryI’m hungryI’m hungryI’m hungry!” His stubby fingers tore off the picture of the man on the can, who looked a bit like the fat man.
Stepping out from the barricade, Stan waved the kitchen tool at the fat man; his eyes followed the tool like a snake. In a gentle arc, the tool followed the can to the side, and in that moment Stan tried to skip past the fat man, hoping to remain out of reach.
The fat man was focusing on the tool and the can. Stan made it to the door.
“It’s BROKEN! I’m hungry! Help me, Stan! It’s BROKEN! I can’t open the can!”
As he pushed the crash bar to open the door, Stan called back, “Sorry, Ollie. Gotta go” and left with one long look.
Thbbbt! Load da cahp!
Now we know how Chet got that way, I suppose.
I just hope it doesn’t become a pot boiler…
I just did a double take because I misread that as plot boiler.
Cook the plot boiler long enough, and it is Noir.
Take your time, and feel better. Cough syrup is good stuff.
“It’s Alive”?
That should be “I’m Alive” or “She’s Alive”. [Crazy Nitpicking Grin While Flying Away Very Fast]
Take care Sarah. I can wait for the Promos until tomorrow. (Can’t afford to purchase any of them today.) 😉
is a stressful time, gets rests when one can.
Sorry to have bugged you, Jiejie, but when you don’t post after saying you’re sick, I get worried.
I et it. Not a problem.
You et the post? No wonder you’re feeling under the weather. Putting something like that in your mouth and swallowing is bound to have consequences… ;p
get it. Keys stick, sometimes.
I gathered. Himself knows, my typos are plentiful and come in many flavors.
It’s just that the perfect opportunity to use ‘Et’ in a sentence that isn’t Latin comes along so rarely. grin
So sorry, I have it too and it’s the pits. Had to tell my daughter to stay in the dorm this weekend while I tough it out with the dog for company.
I just want to be okay for Easter. It sucks so badly.
You’re not alone Sarah, I’ve been finding it hard to settle on anything. I have made very little writing progress, choosing instead to make stuff in the shop. Less brain, more brawn sort of thing.
Eh, it’s fake-Spring here, everything is fairly weird. Real spring doesn’t come until May in the Demented Dominion.
I’ve actually been sick.
And have now given it to Dan.
While it is said that “The Lord Loves A Cheerful Giver”, I don’t think giving Dan your illness counts. [Very Big Crazy Grin]
Our son gave it to us….
Insanity is hereditary. Parents get it from their children. 😈
Oh, you and Dan take care.
So the “one flesh rule” is alive and well?
Em and I prove this rule yearly.
You are a very giving person.
It’s the gift that keeps on giving. ~:D
OK. You chill.
I’ll ponder what to do about a truck that won’t start. … It’s complicated.
Truck started. Wires were crossed. Started smooth; idling rough now but I think I’ll take it.
Yay for better living through modern medicine!
Or at least better sleeping.
Get better!
c4c
Nice shadow drawing of the FICUS ambling along without his retainers guiding his movements.
Promo when possible. No big deal. We’re just glad to know you’re okay. 🙂
I suggest topical application of a good antiseptic. Preferably aged at least twelve years.
yesterday I finished one of the open bottles. Am contemplating opening another.
It’s not like you bought it to pretty up a shelf.
ALL my liquor is gifts from friends, but you’re correct. It’s just I drink it so slowly, now the boys don’t live with us (Dan REALLY doesn’t like alcohol) that I hate to open a new one.
Good stuff, bourbon. You could drink it or take a bath in it. No, wait, that was gin.
I don’t like gin. This tends to bleed through to my characters.
Bourbon, OTOH is why G-d created Kentucky.
(I was misquoting The Lieutenant from a funny bit in “By His Bootstraps”.)
Yeah, I know.
Don’t you mean internal?
Apply it to the sore parts, which happen to be accessible from the outside. No needles or knives required.
One suppose it could have been rum, thus a tropical application.
It’s the fresh poitin that’s best outside – the ould stuff is best inside.
Putting that on the outside of the body would be a sad waste of resources, tantamount to alcohol abuse . . .
Who was it that decided the human body was… a torus, I think… because if you think about it, you could start at any point on the surface and travel along what is nominally the inside without actually going though any tissue barrier?
Get well soon, Sarah, or we’ll all reply to the next vignette challenge with really, really bad puns!
In other words, business as usual. 😀
Or should that be, monkey business as usual?
What is ‘bad’ in this context?
(Grin)
Well, we’re going to let you off with a warning this time; but no more slacking off.
Otherwise, we may need to write a sternly-worded memo in quadruplicate and place a copy in your permanent record.
Please get well soon.
My brain read that as “a sternly worded meme.”
This is more likely, considering the crowd that lingers around here…
Around here, that’s a temptation.
Just read Siegel’s Guide to Understanding the Hoax of the Century:
https://www.tabletmag.com/sections/news/articles/guide-understanding-hoax-century-thirteen-ways-looking-disinformation
It just struck me, the Internet, and possibly the world is going through Witchfinder’s fairyland right now. So, be careful not to take what you see at face value, don’t eat their food and don’t drink their water. And try to help people who need it.
Going to get messy.
All they are serving is Hash Brownie with Bongwater.
Rest, sleep & chicken soup, get well, all the best. Take care
Get better, we’ll be around.
Speak for yourself, I’ll be a square. Or maybe a rhombus.