Saturday, September 10, 2011

Brain Stew

This week's F3 prompt is all about music. It reminded me of a super-short piece I wrote early one morning--before coffee--that I never really fleshed out. But I figure I'll share it here anyway.

Brain Stew

            “Mmm, that smells good. What it is?” Jenny entered the office kitchen on a Monday morning, dreading the day ahead, stomach grumbling. A Lonesome Cup of Coffee just wasn't enough in the morning.
            “Banana Pancakes. Maybe it'll help me feel like it's the weekend.” Marsha used her fingers to spoon the jumble of words into her mouth, crunching the letters with gusto. “Oh my god.” She moaned. “Jack Johnson is a genius.”
            Jenny was jealous. She scrounged around the refrigerator, but all she found was Cherry Pie in the back. She was not in the mood for a mini-skirt wearing, roller-skating kind of day. She stood up and sighed as Frank walked in.
            “Good morning, ladies.” He used his deep radio announcer's voice and waggled his eyebrows, looking over the top of his plastic frame sunglasses. His suit sleeves were rolled three-quarters of the way up his forearms, and his collar was flipped up. Jenny ignored his white pants and turned away, guessing he probably ate Buttermilk Biscuits for breakfast again.
            The day sped by in a craze, with clients and meetings and bosses wanting more, more, more. She didn't even get to stop at lunch for Peanut Butter and Jelly, although she was slightly thankful for that, as the refrain—Jelly, Jelly—usually stuck in her throat for the afternoon, coming up unannounced during a meeting, causing embarrassment while she tried to turn it into a cough.
            On the drive home after work, she stopped by a fast food restaurant. While she didn't hold out any hope her Milkshake would bring all the boys to her yard, it at least made her stomach stop grumbling. She supposed it was the most she could ask for.

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