Flim-Flam

Weldon had been seeing Dr Kronig three times a week for two years. The doctor never said much but Weldon felt like he was getting better, whatever that was. At his Friday session, in the middle of describing a fantasy about raw liver, the door burst opened and two men with badges came in and took the doctor away in handcuffs. Weldon saw it in the paper the next day. Bill Corn was a flim-flam man, a scam artist who had spent half his life in jail.    

No Worry

Brown patches over the yard were all Clay needed to tell him rain was long overdue. There was some brush fire stories in the paper, saw a news show on the TV about fires across the county. But Clay didn’t give himself over to worry about that kinda thing. He spent Sunday painting the back porch and was in bed early. He woke up with Butch barking like crazy, the room a hot reddish glow. The window showed tall flames crawling up on him and his dog.    

Oops!

It was all he needed to screw up his trip to Japan. Chris was driving and gawking at a weird sign when he stupidly rear-ended another car. It happened in a snarl-up of Tokyo traffic with him pointing and yelling to his friend, “Look, look! Look at the sign!” Police questioning and paperwork took forever. Over a beer some hours later, his friend asked, “So, what was the sign?” Chris laughed, “I almost forgot. It was a hair salon called Hair Lips.”