Hello Dear Readers! It’s time for the weekly Trifecta Writing Challenge where editors from around the world work day and night to come up with third definitions for us challengers to ponder and sweat over until we produce 333 words that are grouped together in such a way as to become a story! The Trifecta word this week is dwell:
Deputy Darwood Blick and the Chocolate Chip Cookies
“No Darwood, you’ve spelled my stepmother’s name wrong again. It’s not Rosamunda, it’s Rosamoonya. Like the moon . . . ” I corrected.
Deputy Darwood Blick pushed up his over-sized sheriff’s hat and erased profusely.
“It’s my first report, Mrs. Drathers, and I don’t wanna mess it up. I’m in charge while my dad’s on the Sheriff Jamboree Carnival Cruise. They’re on their way to Mexico this very minute! Can you believe it? Anyways,” Darwood giggled, “it’s just me keepin’ the peace til Dad gets back.
“Yes Darwood, everybody knows that your dad, Sheriff Blick, is out of town. It’s a small place, and word gets around pretty quickly . . . something you need to keep in mind — especially if you intend to become a full-fledged sheriff like your dad.
“Yes, ma’am.” Darwood said, and I detected a little hurt in his voice.
“Don’t dwell on it Darwood. Let’s get down to business. Rosamoonya’s over there on the couch, and, as I said, she died after choking on a piece of cheese. I think all we need is for you to sign the death certificate stating as much.”
“Uh . . . well . . . Mrs. Drathers, I think I’m supposed to look around.”
Darwood poked at Rosamoonya’s body, then picked up the piece of cheese with one bite out of it next to the couch. “Is this the cheese she choked on?”
“Yes,” I said (maybe a little too quickly). That’s when Darwood saw the red marks on her neck and asked, “well . . . uh . . . why is her neck so red?”
“It’s a rash,” I explained “She’s allergic to cheese.”
“Uh . . . well . . .” Darwood was becoming flustered so I told him to go help himself to the freshly baked chocolate chip cookies while I finished filling out the death certificate for him.
“These are yummy! Can I take some home?”
“Of course Darwood, dear, ” I replied. “Of course!”
Until next time . . . I love you