Alphabe-Thursday: To Hell in a Handbag

This week’s letter is H!

“She’ll  go to hell in a handbag,”  Stella said, about her careless neighbor who let her damn lab wander loose and do his damn business on her own lawn.

She was talking to Maggie, who used to live in that neighbor’s house, before Maggie was the first to abandon the block for a swanky new retirement home in Florida.

Stella was telling her how she’d scooped the poop and flung the dog shit back at her neighbor’s.

It had hit the kitchen window.

Maggie was laughing off in fair-weather balmy land of palm trees. A place Stella couldn’t imagine, as much as the cold now could eat through her skin.

“At my window?” Maggie screeched.

“Not your windows, anymore, Hon,” Stella said.

Stella, the last diehard, was the only one on the block no doubt who hadn’t updated her kitchen with granite counters and stainless steel refrigerators.

And she had no desire too. She liked her formica counters, however worn and stained. The stains held history that granite probably never could. The shadow of a ring where her deceased husband had stupidly set down a hot frying pan.

“Well….” Maggie said, and Stella knew she was looking to hang up. To go play shuffleboard or Bingo or sit under a palm tree or whatever the heck you do in Florida where old people go to die.

Stella wasn’t ready to hang up. She never was.

“What the heck does that mean anyway, to hell in a handbag?” Stella asked.

Maggie laughed. And they were back together again, sitting in one or the other’s old worn formica kitchens. Laughing. With no idea what the heck they were laughing at.


About Sandra

Author;editor of The Woven Tale Press at; mother; weaver
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

17 Responses to Alphabe-Thursday: To Hell in a Handbag

  1. Great little piece of flash fiction! Love it…

  2. I agree with Rocky Mountain Woman! I just started experimenting with flash fiction, and it can be very rewarding.

  3. Stacia says:

    I love formica, too. And I always say, part of having a dog is scooping the poop. You gotta scoopa the poopa! 🙂

    • Sandra says:

      We still have our 70s formica. Honestly, the cabinets are falling apart, but with two young boys and now a dog that chews everything, what’s the point of making the place pretty? And I’ve never understood the allure of stainless steel; good lord, I’d have to be polishing it every other second with all our grubby little hands…

  4. Nice little piece. I enjoyed it.


  5. Great to ‘see you’ again and delightful story ~ can relate ~

    (A Creative Harbor) aka ArtMuseDog and Carol ^_^)

  6. Tim says:

    Flash fiction: a complete story arc in less than 1000 words. Best flash fiction was 6 words by Hemingway “For sale. Baby shoes. Never used.”

  7. I liked it. It was a cute short. 🙂 Thank you for sharing it with me

  8. O.k., I confess–I do love being given a bath, or having my hair washed by my husband. He bathes the dog children, too, however! Just don’t tell anyone, please. Hahahaha!!!

  9. Ordinary Words… Nice little slice of life♫ The flu bug has been visiting and I’m finally getting caught up…Be Janu-wary!

    • Sandra says:

      Oh, dear. Been reading in the news how it’s going around but haven’t heard much about it hitting here. At least we all had flu shots but I know there’s another strain going around too…feel better!

  10. What great flash fiction!

    This was absolutely superb!

    My Grandma always used this term.

    And now that I think about it, I never knew what it meant either!

    Thanks for linking!

    Love your visual style of word crafting.


Comments are closed.