OLWG – ?

This story is written in response to the prompts this week at OLWG. The story starts there.

It continues with Ms. Rose’s wonderful take here.

I couldn’t resist so I spent 25 minutes writing this tripe below. It was so much fun!


Daniel looked at his watch, it was about 11:30. The house was dark but he walked up to the front door anyway and knocked. He didn’t need to knock. He had a key but he wanted to talk to her. Knocking would wake her up.

“Hi Mom.” He said when the door opened.

“Danny, hi honey. What are you doing here? It’s almost midnight.” She pulled her robe tighter, stepped back and opened the door wide. Daniel stepped in.

“Sorry to stop by so late, Mom, Susie dumped me. I need a drink and someone to talk to. You don’t mind, do you? I’d really like a Scotch.” He walked past her and headed toward the den, where she kept the booze.

“Uhm, Danny? Maybe you should come by in the morning. Sleep on it. Susan’s a wonderful girl. Maybe she was just having a bad day. Give her a chance. Don’t go in the den.”

“That’s just it, Mom, she’s not a wonderful girl. She said your lasagna is the worst she ever had. I can’t let her get away with bad mouthing your cooking. Your lasagna is the best. Why can’t I go in the den?” he swung through the archway and Mr. Cisneros was standing by the couch, tucking in his shirttail.

“Good evening Daniel. Nice to see you,” his old high school Spanish teacher said with familiar, albeit heavily accented formal sounding English.”Did I hear you say that you wanted a drink? How do you take your Scotch? On the rocks? I will pour it for you.”

Daniel’s jaw dropped open. He blinked twice and studied Mr. Cisneros. He looked at his mother, in her robe, barefoot, then back to Cisneros who was now brushing his hair back off his forehead with his fingers – Looking at Dan. Back at his mother who now looked a little flush. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. I’ll leave.” He turned, but his mom held out her hand and stopped him.

She was shaking her head, “Don’t go Danny. Have a drink. You can tell me about that awful Susie. I’ve been meaning to tell you about Andreas and I anyway.”

“I’ll pour us all a drink.” Cisneros said as he stepped behind the bar and reached for the bottle of Johnny Walker. He looked in the bucket, “no ice. We’ll have to drink it neat.”

He put the Red Label back on the shelf and reached up to pull down the Glenfarclas 25. He set three glasses on the bar, “Single malt OK?”

“Make it a double,” Mom said. She perched on the center stool.