Now, what about that ‘k’?

This past Wednesday, I decided to extend my sincerest wishes to my American friends to the south for a peaceful Inauguration Day.

I fired up my Word Press account and pecked away at the keyboard, like a barnyard chicken. At the completion of the task, I proofread my piece and hit “Publish.”

Pleased that I was able to send mental and digital ‘vibes’ of goodwill, I proceeded to go about my day, when something caught my eye.

I’m sure my sister and her family down in Ohio could have heard my best Homer Simpson impression of, “Doh!”

That would have been accompanied with the echo of my hands smacking my forehead. How could I have missed such a ridiculous typo?

You see, the opening line was supposed to read: I would like to convey my sincerest hope for a peaceful transition of power and healing for the nation of the United States.

 In actuality, the ‘k’ must have decided to take its March Break early, because it read: I would lie to convey my sincerest hope for a peaceful transition of power and healing for the nation of the United States.

A bit frustrated with myself, I was glad that it had, at this point, only received a single view. I quickly grabbed the ‘k’ off the beach chair, and yes, I drank the brat’s mimosa. The AWOL letter was stuffed back in place.

Satisfied, I went into the kitchen where my grade-schoolers were munching on their cereal and contemplating yet another “delightful” day of COVID-style homeschooling.

It was about twenty minutes later that my phone ‘pinged’ an incoming message. It was from Mom and she’d noticed the missing ‘k’ and suggested I change it. Was she that one viewer? No, too early, she would have been doing her Bible reading around that time.

My head ached with another smack when I realized that I’d forgotten that my blog is set to share on Facebook and Twitter once published. She reads my posts on FB. I went to the computer, but of course, the post had been graciously retweeted and was now out in Twitterverse.

I corrected the post on FB and sent out a corrected retweet explaining that it was a typo and that I was sincere in my wishes. Of course, I knew that people are intelligent enough to realize it was a simple mistake, but it was still somewhat embarrassing.

I’ve clacked out the above sentences in the hope of producing a knowing smile on your part. I also wished to demonstrate how easy it is for the eyes and mind to be fooled. I think most of us are so accustomed to reading and writing, that our brains know how most words are spelled, so we read them that way.

You can’t always rely on spellcheck either, because it may not catch the proper context of the word. Hence the need for a second pair of eyes when you are ready to publish.

There are many words in the English language that seem completely illogical in their spelling.

Take the word ‘knife’ for instance. I could see Dalbert, quill in hand, at the dinner table, scratching out his latest poem. He gets  a hankering for a piece of sourdough bread and asks “Ada, can you pass me the nife?”

Ada, being relatively modern, wants to try out an abbreviated form of a new slang word she’s just learned, and responds with, “K.”

Dalbert, who just happened to be writing an ode to his nife collection, scratches the letter ‘k’ onto the parchment. He quickly realizes his mistake, smacks his head, covering it with expensive ink. There’s nothing for it, their ink supplies are low, and he needs to sell another goat before he can buy more.

 He shrugs it all off and mumbles, “There is no ‘butterfly effect’ that will come of this.”

I’ve prattled on long enough, you get my point.

Disclaimer: Any spelling or grammatical errors made in this document are entirely the fault of spell check, Word Press, or the author’s rogue fingers. The author takes no personal responsibility for any unintentional changes to the language of English that may be caused. 🙂

Wishing My American Friends A Safe And Peaceful Inauguration Day

I would like to convey my sincerest hope for a peaceful transition of power and healing for the nation of the United States. Take care, my friends, you are in my thoughts and prayers.

“We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory will swell when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.”
― Abraham Lincoln,

‘Fiction in A Flash Challenge 2021.’ Week #32 Entry Part 8) by Mark Bierman @mbiermanauthor #IARTG #WritingCommunity #FlashFiction

Hello everyone and welcome to Author SuzannE Burke’s “Fiction in A Flash Challenge!” Each week She features an image and invites Everyone to write a Flash Fiction, or Non-Fiction, piece inspired by that image in any format and genre of their choosing.  Maximum word count: 750 words. In Addition to running a wonderful Blog, Suzanne has written many exciting books. Please a have a look at her site: Wecome to the world of Suzanne Burke

Here is my contribution to this week’s prompt. Enjoy!

Here is the image prompt 

Sophie hated these woods at night. During the day, they were cheerful. Cicadas played their endless rattle songs in the trees, while black-capped chickadees fed from your hand.

This trail was usually lit by sunlight, its rays marked the path ahead with the promise of a refreshing dip in Potters Lake, or, if you went the other way, the back door of Nanny and Pappy’s cottage. On most afternoons, the smell of fresh baked cookies would reach your nose before the brown walls of the cottage could be seen.

Yes, the daytime was safe time, but not now, out here, in the dark, and with only an old lantern that Pappy had used as a kid . . . now that was old.  

Her teacher, Mr. Palmer, had said darkness was just the absence of light, that everything was the same. She’d love to have that man here, now. If only he could here the thumps, the rustle of branches as they were parted by the claws of who knows what. Sophie tried to ignore them, to keep the lantern pointed only at the path ahead. She was weirdly mad at the lantern for lighting up the edges of path. It showed a pair of glowing eyes that stared at her very soul, before disappearing back into the woods.

Every ounce of her wanted to run back to the cottage. Her desire was increased when she heard the crazy call of something on the lake to her right, just beyond the bushes. Sophie had jumped then . . . had almost dropped the lantern, and then what? Complete darkness!

She felt the gross things squirm at her side; disgusting, slimy, and terrifying. She tried to imagine they were not there. But they were, and the sooner she got to the lake, the sooner she’d be rid of them. Sophie shuddered at the thought of what was to come.

Something grabbed her right sneaker, and she was pulled towards the bush.  A scream was caught in her throat, it wouldn’t do her terror justice, anyways, and who knows what blood thirsty monsters it would attract.

Claws tore at her jacket and snatched her hair. In her panic, she dropped the lantern and it smashed as she fought for her life.

Trees are good for the environment. Not these ones, Palmer, not all trees were good! Some were evil and would grab you . . . these trees kill you! Find that in your stupid Life Science book, Palmer.

Then she was free of them. She raced towards the lake. Scared to death, running like a crazy person down a trail that was almost as dark as her closet. But there was a weird satisfaction that she’d at least ripped off some of their spiny fingers They were still freakishly stuck in her hair, though.

Their angry brothers and sisters tried to stop her, by grabbing at her feet, but she was ready for them, this time. She was an expert dodgeball player. Nimble as a mountain goat, her gym teacher had said. Well, all those games had certainly paid off.

She didn’t have the nerve to get the broken lantern, but the slimy things were still with her. She hated her luck.

A monster screeched in the trees and her feet seemed to float over the path. Up ahead, was the last corner before the lake. Another screech, this time directly overhead, was answered by a bone chilling yodel!

There was nothing for it, no turning back for Sophie. She had a job to do and no self-respecting girl would let it go undone.  

Sophie put her head down, to avoid it being torn off by the screechy thing and raced to the lake. The slimy creatures bounced off her right side, and it felt like every monster from all the horror films she’d ever heard about were after her.

The lake appeared. The job was finished!

“Sophie! What on earth happened to your hair? Are you alright?” Pappy’s worried face looked at her from his boat, that was still tied to the dock.

Sophie ran onto the dock, nearly of breath. It was difficult to speak, but she managed, “I-I’m okay, now.”

She reached into her coat pocket and cringed. Her hand grabbed the carton of those slimy devils. “Here’s the worms we forgot.”  

 “Thanks, Sweetie, that was brave of you to go back in the dark. Especially with all of those roots on the trail. Now, let’s get those twigs out of your hair.”  

Photos with captions to make you smile and think.

Around here, there’s always something to photograph and comment on. Most of these were taken on ‘walk abouts’ not far from home. I’ve spiced them up with some homegrown humor and thoughts. Enjoy.

‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge 2021.’ #30 Entry Part 2) by Mark Bierman @mark_bierman1 #IARTG #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #FlashFiction

Hello, welcome to my take on Author Suzanne Burke’s weekly ‘Fiction In A Flash Challenge.’

Writer’s are challenged to come up with a short story based on a photo provided. The maximum word count is 750.

I am grateful to Suzanne for provoding this challenge and allowing us to use her blog to showcase our writing. Please click on this link to view Suzanne’s wonderful blog and see the works of other authors. Welcome to the World of Suzanne Burke.

Here is this week’s photo prompt:

“Dad! Did you see that? Daaad!”

“Ouch! Why’d you rip my headphones out for? I was just getting into a marketing podcast about nose hair trimmers.”

“Huh? Wha-? Look out the window! Doesn’t it look like some place we watched on that Area 51 documentary last week? Don’t make that face, either.”

“What face ? Oh Chad, you have a wonderful imagination but I’m afraid it gets the best of you at times. Here, let me see . . . oh, that is interesting.”

“What? You see them too, don’t you? You see them! Runways and small, too small, buildings that must go underground! I mean, one of them looks like the size of a porta potty. What would you do with that?”

“Ummm . . . Chad. Firstly, need I remind you that even though we are flying low because of the heavy clouds, we are still thousands of feet up. Secondly, you’ve spent enough time at summer camp to know what porta potties are for.”

“Look! They’re loading something from the back of a truck! It’s an ali—”

“Side of beef. Chad, that’s an abattoir, where they, uh, you, know. You like hamburgers, don’t you?”

“Eeewwww. . . I used to. Please stop slicing your finger across your throat. It’s not that, Dad. Cows don’t have arms . . . biology 101. Geez, how do you ‘adult’.”

“Nope, those are freezer trucks, and they are taking the beef to market. You see those smaller packages coming out of that other building? Those are probably steaks, hamburger, and some other yummy things.”

“Uh, Chad, you don’t look so well. What’s wrong?”

“You mean, that they sell alien meat in the stores pretending that it’s beef? I need to use the restroom.”

“Uh, that’s not what I meant. Okay, hold on, I’m moving my legs so you can get out.”

Chad’s father watched his son race to the restroom. He shook his head and imagined his brand-new Napoleon Rogue BBQ being relegated to grilling vegetables only . . . 70500 BTU’s wasted on asparagus and mushrooms. He slid over to the window for a final peak and rubbed his eyes. Had that ‘side of beef’ just waved up at him?