Sunday Snickers from JustCruising2

 

Sunday snickers

Revenge edition

Mildred, the church gossip, and self-appointed
monitor of the church’s morals, kept sticking her
nose into other people’s business.

Several members did not approve of her extra-
curricular activities, but feared her enough to
maintain their silence.

She made a mistake, however, when she accused
George, a new member, of being an alcoholic after
she saw his old pickup parked in front of the
town’s only bar one afternoon.

She emphatically told George and several others
that everyone seeing it there would know what he
was doing.

George, a man of few words, stared at her for a
moment and just turned and walked away. He didn’t
explain, defend, or deny. He said nothing.

Later that evening, George quietly parked his
pickup in front of Mildred’s house… and left it
there all night.
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Comments are always welcome.

Mean Girl at the Pearly Gates

Brenda was a mean girl.  We were thrown together because we were all Sunday School together.  She was snooty but tolerated me the best she could in Sunday School because I was preferable to Mary Bragg, an overweight girl who constantly complained other girls were “talking” about her.  We usually weren’t, because we’d already done that and moved on.  I guess I was a mean girl wanna be.

At any rate, Though Brenda could tolerate me at Sunday School, it was a different story at school.  Sometimes I tried to buddy up to her, only to be rebuffed when a real friend came along.  The thing about Brenda was, she was mad about horses.  I had a horse.  From time to time, her yearning to ride a horse got the best of her and she’d ask to come ride my horse.  I was would have played with a rattlesnake if it hadn’t bitten me too many times, so I was glad to have her. We doubled up on Ol’ Frosty and plod along being good friends as looming as the ride lasted.

Once in a great while, Brenda and her older sister Sandy, also a mean girl, the age of my older sister Phyllis, would invite Phyllis and me over.  One Sarurday, we all climbed on the honeysuckle-covered fence in their backyard and slid all one long, glorious afternoon.  I remember Phyllis asking if they were sure it was okay.  Sandy answered , “Sure, we climb this fence all the time.”  We rode that fence to the ground. The next day in Sunday School, Brenda was mad at me.  It seems they’d gotten a “whuppin” for our afternoon’s shenanigans and Mr. Davis “wished he could get his hands on us!”  I never cared to go back over.

Several years ago, I saw Brenda’s obituary in the paper.  I wonder if she’ll talk to me in the unlikely event I meet up with her in heaven.  I know for sure I won’t be swinging on the Pearly Gates with her.