Melting Snow

Fiction Friday or Funny Friday: You Decide

Friday, August 26, 2016

Common sense and a sense of humor are the same thing, moving at different speeds. A sense of humor is just common sense, dancing.
Clive James

The "Blogging Circle of Friends "  prompt for Day 1381
She/ He was late, again. She was always late. As the door opened, I had to wonder what type of excuse she/he would come in with this time... tell us all about.

He was late, again. He was always late. As the door opened, I had to wonder what type of excuse he would come in with this time. "Well," I said as I let him kiss me on the cheek. "Why are you late this time?" I signaled to the waiter for a refill on my coffee.

"You're not going to believe me," he glanced nervously around as the waiter filled our coffee cups and then placed the chief salads I had ordered on the table.

"I know that," I smiled while I poured a large amount of jalapeño ranch dressing on my salad. "That doesn't mean I don't want to hear your excuse or reason whichever you think is more creative."

"You see, Sweat Heart, they found the body. So I had to go to the police station for a polygraph test and it took longer then I thought it would."

"Who are they? Whose body did they find? Did you pass the test?"

"The cops. The body of my first wife Gena. I didn't pass the first one, but I passed the other two."

"You've never told me you were married."

"Of course I did," he leaned over to kiss me on the cheek again. "When we first meant, I told you I'd been legally married three times."

"How many times have you been illegally married?"

"Uh... well... three times... I think."

I placed my fork on the side of my salad plate and motioned the waiter. When he came, I smiled sweetly and said, "It appears his explanation is going to take longer then I anticipated. Would bring me the double cut prime rib with raw horseradish sauce, an extra large baked potato with double sour cream and real butter, and creamed spinach. Then for desert I want a large slice of Death by Chocolate Cake with two scoops of chocolate ice cream on the side."

"Aren't you going to order me anything," he said as the waiter walked away.

"The death by chocolate cake is for you! Now where did they find Gena's body." I removed a notepad and pencil from my purse and began to write.

"Why are you writing this down," he frowned.

"I need a plot for a murder mystery and I'm sure that, whatever weird and outlandish story you're about to tell me will make a good plot."