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Friday, August 13, 2010

101-Word Stupor -- Free Range

Keywords: Boisterous, Abracadabra, Golf 

George's wife and her lover rotate on the rotisserie pole, bare asses dipping into the fire with every turn of the spit: hers, his, hers, his… The metal growls with each rotation. Abracadabra! his friend's body disappears into the flames, then reappears. They're screaming, but not like they were when George caught them. Now his wife rasps unintelligibly. And his friend sounds like the pig they roasted after playing golf last weekend. The spit grinds, rotates, and drags his wife through the fire. Something's missing. With a boisterous "Ah-hah!", George enters the trailer and emerges with two shiny apples. Much better. 

Keyword Preview for tomorrow: Scone, Linebacker, Aphrodisiac 


  1. Love it, Jason! :)

    Here's mine:


    The view from the 18th hole of Half Moon Bay Golf Links is neither easily described nor easily forgotten. Standing tall amongst the cypress, hunched over and scraggly, like wise ancient women, beside the white tees, of course, driver in place, squinting against the sun so jealousy enveloped by the clouds. Surrounded, by sight and sound and smell, on the one side by nothing but water. Boisterous oceanic waves. Cliffs. Sky. Fog. And then…you swing. And it’s a magical moment. A moment that just hangs in utter silence. True suspension of disbelief. And it just disappears. The very definition of abracadabra.

  2. Steve sits at the counter, lazily replacing the register tape while he whistles along with the Steve Miller song playing in the background.

    It’s been a slow day: 5 tanks of gas, 2 slushies, and 1 boisterous drunk begging for a cigarette. Unusually slow day.

    An older car rumbles up to pump #3, jangles a bit, and then shuts off. On its rusty bumper, a faded sticker proclaims “Golf Sucks”.

    The bell rings over the door and a disheveled man walks to the counter.

    “Oh damn, not Abracadabra!”

    Steve looks up, just in time to see the explosion from the barrel.