PHOTO PROMPT © THE MALE MUST GO THROUGH
The late, great, Bob Bryant.
Well, the only thing he was great at, was being late. He was born almost two weeks after his due date, and never caught up.
He was late for breakfast, late for classes, late to get his drivers’ licence, and late for his senior prom. His Mother told him that he’d be late for his own funeral. If he’d shuffled his feet faster, he’d have been on the sidewalk, instead of shuffling off to Buffalo, in front of that bus.
Here he was, returning from the crematorium. With COVID-delayed postal delivery, Mom would be right.
***
Go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.
Archon's Den 
Ha! Poor Bob….
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He can’t think outside the box anymore. 😉 😳
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That’s just wrong. 😕 Funny, but wrong. 🤣
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I’ve been wrong for so long that, now I’m right. 🙂
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Funny, but sometimes true.
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We all know someone…. unless we are that someone. 😳
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Now, that’s funny! When I was 20 min late for my wedding rehearsal (only because soon to be hubby didn’t do what he was supposed to and pick up the flowers) my Mom made the same statement. I fooled her, I got her out of bed two hours EARLY to get to the church. I often wonder if it’s possible to be early for your funeral… I’m habitually 15-20 min early for everything….
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Better late than never…. but better never late. 🙂
After the wife missed a doctor’s appointment by an hour, they let it pass, and booked another, a week later. When she (and her smart phone) forgot that one also, they charged her $35 cash, upfront, for the third. Since then, “we’ve” been early, but early doesn’t work during COVID. They won’t let you wait inside, where it’s warm. We sit in the car, next to the snow pile in the parking lot, till they call. I wait, till she returns. 😯
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Nothing works during covid. I sit in car everyday waiting for hubby to come out from work. Clock out is 530…i pull in about 525 or so…he sometimes doesn’t get out until 559 or 600. Makes for a CD wait in winter.
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Tru dat! 😦
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For me, being fashionably late is a good thing
My story!
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Some people are late, according to a clock. Others are late, according to a calendar. I took the wife to a doctor’s appointment. The receptionist said, “You were supposed to be here yesterday.” 🙄
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That’s seriously late!
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Hopefully there are no clocks in heaven. True freedom 🙂
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There is everything – and nothing – in Heaven.
The wife says that she doesn’t want to go to Heaven, because her abusive family will be there. I tell her that, if her family is there to abuse her – it’s not Heaven. 🙄
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I can’t believe I’m laughing about poor Bob! It is such a well-rounded story, balanced and humorous. Great!
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It’s called schadenfreude. We laugh at others’ misfortunes. It’s funny as Hell – till it happens to us.
My day has been made! I’ve impressed a real, live author. I assume you’re alive. The comment didn’t have a hollow tone, as if it came from inside another of those boxes. 😉 😆
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Definitely alive! And not close to a box yet, though sometimes I feel as old as one of those ladies Rochelle keeps discovering.
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Better late than never? Enjoyed the humorous ending.
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And I enjoyed another visit from you. Our other Niagara friend, The Hook, https://youvebeenhooked.wordpress.com/ seems to be down for the count. 😳
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Oh dear. Hope he’s okay. And hope you’re doing well too.
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So much dark humor this week! Having almost as fun with the comments as the original story. Well told!
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There’s nothing like shipping cremains, to shine a light on the dark side…. as it were. 😉
I try to make the comments section as entertaining and amusing as the posts. Sometimes I succeed. Sometimes I feel like a nebula full of Dark Matter. 😳
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LOL. I was going to say but you couldn’t see a nebula of dark matter. Then I realized that was what you meant. Maybe? I will happily orbit the event horizon of your nebula for a while! Maybe every time we both do Friday Fictioneers. Thanks for keeping things fun.
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The thought of being late gives me anxiety. I blame school for that! I guess on the on the protagonist tomb stone it reads “he who is late; the story of his life”.
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