The Geezer did it again! I knew something important was happening. Trying to get to the computer to blog has been difficult, if not impossible, for last month. And, the Geezer has been as jumpy as a frog on a griddle. Then he disappeared for four days, leaving me bored…my only entertainment was to do the exact opposite of whatever the dog-sitter ask me.

When he arrived back home, he had a smile engraved on his mug that made the Cheshire Cat’s look inconspicuous. I didn’t have to ask why.

“Guess what, Sandy, ” he babbled, “I won the FWA writing contest.”

“Congratulations”, I volunteered. “What did you win?” Was FWA an acronym for Funky Wombats’ Alliance? I couldn’t remember.

The Geezer got that self-important, smug smile he wears when he believes he’s achieved some important milestone. Like remembering where he stored his Viagra.

“I won the runner-up Royal Palm Literary Award,” he strongly enunciated the last for words, “for my manuscript for Francis’ Flowers. It’s a suspense/thriller genre novel.”

“Congratulations, again,” I remembered…Florida Writers Association, not Funky Wombats.

As I watched him, the Geezer’s head began swelling like a hot air balloon on steroids. “And…and… guess what?”

“What? I complied.”

His chest swelled. “My literary/mainstream  manuscript for my novel, The Bully Route Home won,” the Geezer was drawing it out, dramatizing his announcement like a lady telling her husband she was pregnant, “first place?”

“A big congratulations! ” I said, The old boy was soaking up the praise like a bar sponge sucking up a spilled drink.  I watched as the hot air building inside him lifted him skywards.

“DL… DL… where are you?  Mrs. G called.

“I’m in the bedroom, dear.”

“Come take the trash out.”

The hot air balloon and the Geezer deflated.


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