Saturday Night Silliness -- Random Musings of a Writer Lady and Her Cat.

*I created a teeny tiny play this time. FADE IN. INT. --Bonus Room Tinkletoes sits in the bonus room. It is decorated for Christmas. Snow is falling outside. Dramatic reading of Carp Fisher’s “Tinkletoes’ Christmas Mission.” Narration by: Someone Really Cool. Narration begins: Tinkletoes looked at the list. He saw the snow falling outside. Tucking the list into his waist band... ...the self-proclaimed mercenary stood, rising to his full height. A man on a mission. He was present. At the ready... It was a mission like nothing that had come before. This soldier was not in pursuit of the enemy, baked goods, lighted sabers...or other sci-fi toys. (Tinkletoes looks at Narrator) : They’re not toys, they’re collectibles. Would you call a Bergara B-14 a toy? (TP pops in dressed as Raggedy Ann): Rifles are party favors in Faerie. (giggling) (Tinkletoes to

 (Personal Essay)  I see my old self in you. The sadness. The constant worry about the future. The unending need to prove to yourself that you can take care of yourself. That you are going to be okay. Let me tell you this now. I am using all caps for emphasis. Not because I’m yelling. YOU ARE GOING TO BE OKAY. You will. It doesn’t feel like it but you will. I have learned a lot over the last decade. Let me share with you what I’ve learned so your journey is easier. You are surrounded by people who love you. That voice inside your head telling you how alone you are is lying . If you can’t see it then every day I want you to find one person that you know loves you and has your back. Each day look for a new person to add to the list. Write the list down and put it in a drawer or a box. Something that is hidden but close at hand. On the bad days take it out and read the list. Out loud. Remember these are the people who are there for you. They are also the ones w

The screen on Scotch’s cell phone lit up just as Pen was replacing the last book on the shelf. How are things going? Are our friends still watching? Pen read the message. “How long have I been in here?” She muttered. Pen picked up the fake novel and the phone and returned to Scotch’s bedroom. The spy-in-training quickly shoved the book into her purse before she made another appearance at the bedroom window. The black SUV was still parked on the street outside. She noticed that the doors were closed and the windows had been rolled all the way up against the chill of early morning. The vehicle shook here and there which was consistent with three men of their “friends” size attempting to make themselves comfortable within a limited space. It looked like they would be staying for the night. Or what was left of it . Pen moved out of view and sent a quick response of “yes” to Scotch. She returned to the hidden room and looked at it to make sure she had not left any tell tale signs

“You’re losing people?” Scotch asked. “At an alarming rate. So are the French, the Spanish, the Americans...” “What about the Russians?” One corner of Ursula’s mouth turned up revealing a rarely seen dimple, “Ask the Americans, if you can find a live one.” Scotch thought back to his conversation with McKinney, it felt like it had taken place a lifetime ago, only a few hours had passed between that conversation and this one, “Who are the men in the SUV working for?” “The one outside your apartment?” Scotch nodded. “I don’t recognize them. They must be independents.” “You don’t know who they might be working for?” “No. I don’t. The only thing that I can tell you is spies from agencies all over the world are dying and no one is taking responsibility.” Ursula looked at Scotch waiting for a response. He sat and waited for her to reveal her final piece of information. “Have you noticed how none of the spies at your agency have di

The man that Scotch had thought was Duff turned his stool to face him. The new guy had dark hair and eyes similar to Duff’s. The man also had heavy jowls along with a weak chin as opposed Duff’s more defined facial features. The new guy was also pointing a gun at him. Scotch listened for movement but didn’t hear anything coming from Fluffy’s direction. Either this was a delicate matter or Fluffy was such a newbie that he couldn’t be trusted with his own weapon. Scotch turned his head briefly. Fluffy’s already bloodless complexion had not paled nor did he appear jittery or anxious. Scotch looked for perspiration on the man’s forehead, another sign that he was in over his head. There was nothing. Scotch rose from his seat slowly. He crossed to Ursula’s booth and sat down. “There are four of you here. Only two of you have weapons. Your newbie is on the job but not nervous so you must only be here to talk. From the imitate size of your group I am going to surmise that this a del

Scotch stepped out of the alley two buildings to the south of his own apartment  and began walking down the street in the direction of central Soho and some of Duff’s favorite after hours hang-outs. Many places were closing up for the night, there were a few 24 hour diners, that would allow trusted customers to have a drink in a back room provided they brought their own bottle. Duff was a gentle soul who usually needed time alone with a bottle after completing one of Ursula’s errands. The spy ignored the first odd sound that he heard as he cut across the night traffic closer to late night merry making. The street that he was headed for was still brightly lit and anyone who was following would have to slow their pace to avoid being seen. Scotch stopped and sat down in a bus stop enclosure to send a quick message on Pen’s phone asking if their friends were still outside. She confirmed that they were. “It seems that I have another new friend.” Scotch muttered under his breath as h

“What are you doing?” Pen asked. Scotch walked around the room pulling dark colored clothes out of the closet and a pair of cheap, dark sneakers out of a shoe box sitting inside. Pen immediately recognized the ensemble. “Mission clothes?” Scotch ignored the question and disappeared into the bathroom returning a few minutes later. “Our friends outside are looking for a man in gray dress pants and a matching coat, a white dress shirt and dark oxfords. My features are not remarkable. I look like at least five other men who live in this building. I’ll be using a different exit and wearing different clothes in case I run into one of them while they’re taking a smoke break. If you get a text on the phone from me that looks like a green light I need you to pull up Jeremy 5J out of Contacts and send him a text. Tell him that his dog has gotten out of the building again. It went out the front door.” Pen looked at Scotch. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “The text means

“What would you suggest?” Pen asked. “A kiss?” “That would be an appropriate option.” Scotch agreed as he removed keys from the pocket of his jacket. Pen did not respond for several moments. Scotch jiggled his keys. “Are you afraid that you’re going to lose your audience?” Pen asked. She looked at the black SUV that had parked two doors down. “Whomever is in the SUV does not look like they are in a hurry to go.” Scotch’s keys jiggled again. “Very well.” Pen leaned in close as if to kiss Scotch and turned her head. She smiled, gave him peck on the cheek, and relieved the spy of his keys. Pen blocked the view from the SUV with her body while Scotch entered the security code on the building’s keypad. Pen entered the building with Scotch close behind. Both waited for the elevator door to close before they continued their conversation. “That was a smooth trick you pulled outside.” “I did what you asked.” “A peck on the cheek?” “A gesture showing our new friends that I

Scotch looked at Pen. “You’re dressed.” “Dressing is one what one typically does when one’s had an intruder.” “So much for Plan A.” He looked around the kitchen. Scotch reached out and lifted the bag from Pen’s kitchen can. “We’ll go with Plan B. Do you have your keys?” Pen tapped at her left leg pocket and felt her keys. “Yes.” “Lock the door behind you. It’s time to rustle a few bushes and see how many pheasant come flying out. How do we get out?” The pair step out into the empty hallway. Pen pointed to a darkened stairwell at the far end. “The agency cleared this?” Scotch asked as they made their way down the stairs. “The light bulbs need replacing.” She said as they exited the building. “It’s going to be fixed on Monday.” “How long has it been that way?” “Three weeks.” “Three weeks?” Scotch repeated and shook his head. “Why didn’t the agency move your approval to move in date back until after the repair had been made? It’s standard pro

The moment that Scotch exited the living room Pen went in the other direction. She returned to her bedroom and with a flip of the light switch she began counting. “One.” Pen shut the door. “Two.” She retrieved clean panties from a stack of clothes that had been neatly laid out on a chair and put them on. “Three.” Bra was secured into place. “Four.” Blouse pulled overhead and smoothed out. “Five.” Pants put on. “Six.” Pen snatched a stun gun and her keys off of the top of her dresser and opened the door, heading back through the living room and into the kitchen. She found Scotch standing next to her stove. He was looking at an apple that had been placed in on its center between the burners. The apple had been impaled with one of Pen’s cooking knives. A piece of paper was attached. “What is it?” Pen asked. “It’s for you. A fan letter.” Pen looked a Scotch questioningly. He looked around the small kitchenette, spotting her dish washing gloves, he put them on and gen

As she stepped out of the shower Pen breathed a sigh of relief. She smiled to herself as she looked at her reflection in the freshly cleared mirror and whispered, “I out spied the spy.” She wrapped herself in a bathrobe and wondered at her accomplishment. As she toweled the remaining water from her hair, she took time to reflect closely on her perceived victory. Me following a spy without being seen. She let that thought sit in her mind. He’s one of the best spies in Europe, according to some one of the best in the world. He had to know that I was there. I would have to be some kind of a jerk not to think that he didn’t know. If I were him and I knew that I was being followed… “He’s going to gloat and then he’s going to boast. Scotch is going to make sure I know that he caught me watching him and he’s going to gloat.” Pen picked up her dirty clothes and put them in the hamper, hanging her towel to dry, she exited the bathroom muttering to herself, “I have to have a plan. I have

Personal struggles. The challenges that you have just because you are you can be a daily struggle but they also make your writing better. Did I write that? That is so dry. Let’s make this more interesting. The more that I talk about writing the more of myself I find myself sharing. Is it good? Is it bad? I don’t know. The one thing I do know is that I have shared this story before. A lot. It’s basically public knowledge at this point. Let me share it one more time. When I was a little girl a long time ago, in a galaxy far far away. Just kidding. When I was a little girl my parents along with a lot of other adults told me that I could be whatever I wanted to be when I grew up. One of the things I wanted to do was...now I’m a little bit embarrassed, but it was a really cool thing to be in the 70's. Seriously. I’m not kidding. It was cool damnit! I wanted to be an entertainer and not any entertainer. I wanted my own show. Like Sonny and Cher. Captain and Tennille.