tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149217012399643733.post4629327666830057526..comments2023-12-06T00:48:23.734-08:00Comments on Daily Writing Practice: Monday December 10th, 2012Marchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14952331166517430843noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149217012399643733.post-39013033093404152462012-12-11T23:46:10.358-08:002012-12-11T23:46:10.358-08:00David - very nicely done, really enjoyed the subtl...David - very nicely done, really enjoyed the subtlety here :)<br /><br />Greg - I would say twenty appointments would only begin to dent the surface on this one!Marchttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14952331166517430843noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149217012399643733.post-68056684331841201922012-12-11T23:36:31.085-08:002012-12-11T23:36:31.085-08:00@David: very stream of consciousness, with just a ...@David: very stream of consciousness, with just a sly reference to the title. Nice!<br /><br />@Marc: With the prompt title of 'dysfunctional family' I was wondering what could be going on in your life until I read the next paragraph! I've not seen Raising Hope, but I've heard a tiny little bit about it. I'll put it on my 'things not to ignore' list :)<br />I like your dog in today's piece :) I also like all of the little vignettes, particularly the boy, with the mother next.<br /><br /><b>Dysfunctional family</b><br />Dr. Fraud leaned back in his chair and tapped his pen against his teeth. Not his <i>actual</i> teeth, in his mouth as it were, but the set of articulated teeth he'd bought off eBay, where they'd been sold as belonging to a now-dead vampire. They sounded hollow.<br />"This cannot be an Electra complex," he said, his Austrian accent a little thicker than normal. "Your father is dead, and you are a man."<br />"The nanny killed my father!" said the middle-aged man on the couch. He was muscular and looked younger than his 44 years, and was constantly squeezing a grip machine. "She killed him with the urn containing my mother's ashes!"<br />"So the report says," said Dr. Fraud picking up a manila folder and opening it. "There was something odd about the urn, as I recall...."<br />"It was made from my grandmother's skull," said the man on the couch hotly. "It was a family heirloom!"<br />"Oh yes," said Dr. Fraud. He tapped his teeth again, liking the <i>pock</i>ing noise they made. "And how did your grandmother die?"<br />"Her sisters drowned her in an ornamental fishpond in the gardens of a stately home after she hit one of them with a rake."<br />"Oh yes." Dr. Fraud sighed with pleasure. "There is so much here to work through. Book yourself another twenty appointments."Greghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08503319830584828982noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1149217012399643733.post-394134191811515312012-12-11T09:18:31.136-08:002012-12-11T09:18:31.136-08:00Two scoops. One vanilla. One chocolate. Only tw...Two scoops. One vanilla. One chocolate. Only two tonight, as we are out of strawberry. Dairy covered. Chocolate sauce. Whipped cream. Cherry on top. Fruits and veggies, check.<br /><br />The phone rings.<br /><br />“Yes, mom. Ok mom. Yes, I can put myself to sleep.”<br /><br />Click<br /><br />Nuts. I forgot the nuts. Protein, check.<br />Davidhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02535943936537261662noreply@blogger.com