“We’ll be with you all day, tracking Winter Storm Snicker,” Biff Buffley said, smiling at the camera.
“Could he sound any more gleeful?” Melinda asked. (More)
Midday Matinee is our people watching, people doing and people being feature. Join the Woodland Creatures for an afternoon break.
Welcome back to Tuesday’s Tale, a weekly feature where we collaborate to write a story. Previous Tuesday’s Tales include The Papal Primary Debate and The Just Us League. We follow the basic rules of the “Yes, And” improvisational game – accept everything written so far as part of the story, and add your own paragraph (or so) where the last addition left off – except you needn’t begin your addition with “Yes, and.” I’ll start the story….
“I’m sure he doesn’t mean to sound gleeful,” Nora said, sitting cross-legged on the sofa with her eReader tablet and a bowl of popcorn. “He’s the Weather Network, after all.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” Melinda said, the screen upside down as she did a yoga arch. “There’s a big storm, so he has a big audience. He’s loving this.”
“Isn’t yoga supposed to be relaxing?” Nora asked.
“Yoga is relaxing,” Melinda said. “It’s the Weather Network that’s annoying me.”
“So turn it off,” Nora suggested.
Melinda exhaled slowly. “We’re under a winter storm warning. I need to know how bad it will be.”
“Biff Buffley back with you on the Weather Network,” he said after the lizard stopped trying to sell car insurance. “Here’s our latest look at Winter Storm Snicker. We’re expecting freezing rain with hail possible in these severe cells, and then snow with possible blizzard conditions.”
“What’s for dinner, honey?” Melinda said, and then replied, imitating the Mrs. Biff Buffley she imagined. “Welcome home, honey! We’re expecting a twenty-percent chance of pot roast, with potatoes, carrots and onions possible in some areas.”
“I wonder why they named it Snicker,” Nora mused aloud.
“Probably for the same reason his mother named him Biff,” Melinda said, now curling into the camel position. “Damn, I can’t get my chakras aligned.”
“I have a laser level in the toolbox,” Nora offered.