https://fresh.inlinkz.com/js/widget/load.js?id=c0efdbe6b4add43dd7ef(1) flat trails, (2) green leafed plants and (3) unexpected art work(4) pretty flowers and (5) their bright reddish colors(6) curvy sidewalks and (7) sunset clouds(8) bridges, (9) trees and (10) beautiful evenings
After the voice rescued me from Lou’s cloud of demonic darkness, the tall, thin man figured I might as well get to know Lou in person and so we all sat at a table with the red-headed writer (though Aurelia had to leave when her phone told her to stop lollygagging and get back to work). The chitchat took some time to unravel its yakkity yarns making a way to my invisible friend, but when it did I had to concede to every skeptic at the table – which was all of us – that I never actually saw the voice nor did I even know his name.
The Bartender brought coffee and desserts and the chitchat resumed until it ended abruptly when Lou, wanting to get to the bottom of the mystery without wasting any more time, insisted that I, Tell that silent voice of yours to say something. I then heard the voice speak one word, Something, the minimum that Lou asked him to say.
From the expressions on the faces of those sitting with me at the table, I realized that none of them heard the voice and so I told them what the voice said. Looking at Lou look back at me I could tell he thought I was too far gone, too mental, too whatever and therefore harmless no matter how hard his terrified cloud of demonic darkness tried to convince him otherwise.
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Denise offers the prompt word “yarn” to be used in this week’s Six Sentence Stories.
Long bridge which some might call a boardwalkSome bridges are a tad sketchy, but they are fun to look at.Three ways to go. I take the one down the middle or to the right.
All of these limericks were originally posted to Esther Chilton’s Laughing Along With A Limerick during the month of July 2026.
Fakity Fake
It was fakity, fakity fake, but we bought it since it came with cake. And the cake tasted good like a real, good cake should, but the message was fakity fake.
The sun’s setting and soon it is gone. Then the dark of the night lingers on,
A Wreck of a Limerick
Though they said, “It’s a wreck,” I am glad it was not so remarkably bad. It was not even worse than the lines of this verse and for that I am gratefully glad.
Though to fly might be fine I’ll just stand where my feet feel the firmness of land. I’ll leave flying to birds or a limerick’s words which don’t care – though they should – how they land.
When we were back in Room 215 of the Six Sentence Cafe & Bistro and I heard Moxie tell the red-headed writer that she couldn’t go into the cafe, I asked the voice if he had to stay here as well. Having gotten more acquainted with him I was glad to hear that he could go with me wherever I wanted to go and for as long as I wanted him to accompany me. So, we went to the cafe where we saw the tall, thin man entertaining Lou and Aurelia eating cake with coffee.
Since Aurelia said that the cake was very tasty we ordered some and went to sit at an inconspicuous table in the back. However, from Lou’s direction I sensed a cloud of demonic darkness zero in on my face to tell me, We’re going to send flowers of condolence to your next of kin after we’re done with you.
Realizing that I had only one sentence left with which to defend myself and I still hadn’t used the prompt word “pinch” I was surprised that the cloud suddenly backed away shaking in terror when it heard the voice by my side say, YOU again?