Skip to main content

That Writing Thing in February - Day 12


One Bite

The wind swept down the boulevard carrying with it last night's detritus. Detritus? You know debris, waste, refuse, rubbish, litter, scrap, rubble and so on. I say detritus because my pal MikeWJ said I didn't know how to use it in a sentence. You owe me $50 Mike. And detritus is just one of those words you'd expect to find in a noir discourse. My God am I a literary marvel or a homocide detective? Good to know I've got something to fall back on if this detecting thing doesn't work out.

And it wasn't working out. As I gazed out of my apartment window at the rising sun in the east (notice how the last chapter ended with a sunset in the west? That's continuity, folks.) I thought to myself that after 12 days I was no further ahead in finding the murderer of the 3 Amigos than I was on day 1.

Something had to change. Somehow I'd wandered off the trail searching for a man called Horse. All I knew was I'd better get myself back up in the saddle. 

First, I thought, I'd trot into the kitchen for some breakfast. As I did, I scanned the bed and there was Dylan, lying peacefully on her stomach on the mattress, her long summery blonde hair flowing across her bare back. Dylan and I were a thing. Our whirlwind romance had quickly escalated to the point of her moving in with me. Imagine a girl from the north country of California and a guy from the great white north of Canada co-existing.  Well they say opposites attract.

She stirred and rolled over. Her eyes fluttered open against the light from the rising sun. "Morning stud" she croaked. If there's one thing in particular I liked about Dylan it was her canny sense of accuracy.

"Want some breakfast?" she asked.

"Hey I was just about to fix something, let's do it together."

She slid from the bed and put on my shirt that had been lying on the floor in once graceful move.

As I plugged in the coffee maker and she got out the flour, eggs, sausages and bread for crepes, french toast, eggs and all the fixings, my thoughts turned to the case.

At least I thought I still had a case of champagne and if so we could mix it with orange juice for momosas.

And as I sipped my drink and took one bite of the delicious breakfast spread out before me it came to me. Maybe it wasn't a man called Horse. Maybe it was a man that looked like a horse. You know, someone with similar facial features to Celine Dion. You know, when she walks into a bar the bartender says "Hey, why the long face?"

I was on to something. And after I got off her I showered and got dressed and left her in the apartment to clean up as I checked into the precinct. We called it the Cheese Shop because it was whey out of town. I had to see Chief Silver and explain my latest theory to him. I hopped in the car, turned the ignition and shouted "Up Scout". I don't know why but I always said that when I thought of Chief Silver.

Check out We Work For Cheese for the others in this godforsaken writing thing in February.

Comments

Linda R. said…
That's quite a spread for a dude ranch...and a case of champagne. Gouda for Jack!
I hate Celine... Making me shoot my juice out of my nose when I read this!!!
frankleemeidere said…
As much as I love Avril? That's how much I don't love Celine.
nonamedufus said…
Seriously brilliant? Good grief, Jayne, lighten up. Seriously, thanks.
nonamedufus said…
I know where you're coming from, Frank. Toronto, isn't it?
nonamedufus said…
My work here is done. (Wish I had have seen that!)
nonamedufus said…
Ha, ha, good one Linda. Jack can be a high class guy sometimes.
meleahrebeccah said…
"Maybe it wasn't a man called Horse. Maybe it was a man that looked like a
horse. You know, someone with similar facial features to Celine Dion"

AHHAHhHAhHAHhHAhHAHhHAhHAHhahahha!! AhahhAHhHAhAahhhah! And now I want breakfast with momosas!
Laughing Mom said…
"After I got off her...!!!!" AHAHAHAHA you are killing this!
nonamedufus said…
So then I'm not the only one that's noticed this about Celine Dion, then?
nonamedufus said…
That was one of my favourites today. I don't know where this stuff comes from.
meleahrebeccah said…
I totally agree ­ she has a horse face!
Ziva said…
Oh my god. :D I'm with laughingmom, that line about being on to something, and getting off her, that was priceless. I feel like I need Dylan in my bed now.
nonamedufus said…
I, erm, I mean Jake saw her first.
nonamedufus said…
Her heart may go on but that face could stop a truck. (Oh, we're cruel.)
Cheryl P. said…
"that's continuity, folks." You are so funny....and of course, you are a literary marvel.
ReformingGeek said…
Hay, that is Puntastic, Noname! Whey over the top.
MalisaHargrove said…
Oh, now I have to go back and read the last 5 posts. I'm behind! Here you are with a California girl. Last time I read your story, you were avoiding Boom Boom and now you are going boom boom!
nonamedufus said…
Aw, shucks. Doesn't say much for my deducting abilities though.
nonamedufus said…
It's the only place to be, Reffie. The view up her is marvellous.
nonamedufus said…
Oh that comment made me laugh so much. Katherine. And don't worry about being a little behind. My wife has one too.
Jayne said…
I know there are pun-writing story contests out there. This needs to be entered in one of them.
nonamedufus said…
You've got me intrigued. I just might look into it.
meleahrebeccah said…
BAhAHhHAhHAhHAHhHahHAHhaHA!!
MsDarkstar said…
Hmmm, it's been a while since I've had mimosas. I prefer Peach Bellini's, honestly.
KZ said…
Dear God, man. You're relentless with the puns! Haha.
KZ said…
I just wanted to say that the pun about "whey out of town" tickles me to no end.
nonamedufus said…
I'll have to try that Ms Darkstar.
nonamedufus said…
I know. And there's still 16 days to go.

Popular posts from this blog

Tales From The Supermarket

Bob and Brenda worked in the supermarket. They weren't check-out clerks. And they weren't stock-boys. Brenda sure wasn't. And they weren't employees who worked in the fish section or the deli. No. They were on the shelves.

They hadn't been on the shelves very long but in that short time they'd developed a considerably close friendship.

The chatted all day when the store was busy and at night when the store was closed. They talked about everything. The talked about what raw products they came from. The talked about their manufacturing processes. And they talked about the long routes in semi-trailers that brought them to this store.

Oddly enough the one thing they never made clear to one another was just what product each of them was.

One day when Brenda was commenting on their friendship she told Bob she was grateful for their amity. "Are you Tea?" said Bob, pekoe-ing her way. "I thought I was Tea". You're coffee!"

This week's Tw…