Your three words, my little story: Gwyn’s words on Rose Marie’s part two.
Flannel, culpable & bilious

 

Note: our poet Gwyn Dooley mentioned that I should write a part two on Rose Marie’s little story. I told her if she gave me three words, I would.

 

Follow this link to part one.

 

Part 2

The riddle said,

“two, four, six, eight
which do I celebrate
not two, four or six
only you know the fix
not spring, summer or fall
and J didn’t do them all
O did one, two and three
wait, tonight you will see”

 

The detective thought it was interconnected to a previous winter trail involving the accused murderer Jasper. He said, “Looks like Jasper has a partner on the outside.”

 

“If the Riddler is holding back information on the Jasper murders, then they could be just as CULPABLE,” said the Judge.

 

 

The detective replied, “The Riddler has injected themselves into Jasper’s case. We know Jasper didn’t leave the roses, because he’s in jail.”

 

 

“I remember seeing a man in a red FLANNEL shirt this morning.”

 

“Where at?”

 

“Downstairs in parking level one.”

 

“Can you remember anything else about him Your Honor?”

 

“An older white man that was dressed very poorly. He was sitting in my parking spot and was very rude with a BILIOUS attitude, when I motioned him to move.”

 

“Did he bother you or attempt to?”

 

“Not really. I didn’t think much of it, because it is awfully cold outside. I believe there’s some kind of heat vent or something near my spot.”

 

“Thank you Your Honor, you’ve been a lot of help. We’ll have a black and white parked out side your door tonight and an unmarked shadow you for the time being. Hope that comforts you.”

 

“Yes it does! Thanks.”

 

Your three words, my little story
Camellia’s words: coffee, monoecious & evergreen

 

Sitting under her EVERGREENS, while enjoying her COFFEE is one of her favorite times of the day. Especially knowing she planted every tree, bush and flower in her yard. Actually thirty years ago she laid every roll of turf too.

 

When the house at the of Summer Street went up for sale, it didn’t take Camellia a day and a half to make her move. She knocked on the seller’s door and when they answered she said, “I’ve been waiting on this day for years. Here’s my bid.” The only thing she didn’t like about their landscape, was the lack MONOECIOUS plants. She prided the work in her yard and it’s diversity of fona.

 

She’s had her eyes on the cute little cottage ever since it was built ten tears ago. As much as she loves her kids, she has dreamed of the day when she could move out of her huge beautiful home and into a much smaller house. If she bought the smaller bungalow, it would be some time before calling it home.

Your three words, my little story
Rosemarie’s words: murderous, roses & letter

 

Rosemarie was pleasantly surprised, when she opened the door and saw a bundle of ROSES flowing out of a beautiful vase. The yellow, red and rare black roses were sitting on the middle of her desk, begging to be inhaled. She loudly asked Linda, “Who are these from?”

 

Linda said, “I have no idea, they were there when I delivered your mail, your Honor.”

 

“Someone was in my office? And we don’t know who? That’s a little unnerving.”

 

“Yes mam it is.”

 

As she looked closer at the vase, she noticed a small tube in the water. She grabbed some paper towels to wrap them around the thorny stems and slowly pulled the roses out. She then plucked the cylinder away from the flowers and noticed a rolled up piece of paper in it.

 

It was a message in a bottle, “How romantic,” she thought. She opened the tube and pulled the LETTER out, expecting and anxious to read a love sonnet. She unrolled the paper to reveal not a love letter, but a crude riddle resembling the ones left at the scene by the alleged MURDEROUS defendant on trial today. “Linda call Roy!”

 

When Roy, the bailiff, came in, he said, “Don’t touch anything your Honor. Let me call the Sheriff’s office and get forensics over here.”

 

She thought, “What a disappointment.”

 

Linda asked, “Do you want to cancel court?”

 

“No! That’s exactly what he wants. Roy, get someone to take care of this, so you can get him out of lock-up and let’s prepare for the day.”

Your three words, my little story
Tricia’s words: toenail, bark & lemon

 

 

Jim doesn’t like to clip his nails in the house and it doesn’t matter if it’s a fingernail or a TOENAIL. So he goes to the back porch and lets them fly.

 

His good friend Bandit watches his every move, but especially when he clips his nails. If they just drop at Jim’s feet, Bandit watches it then pays it no mind. Sometimes his nails can fly five or six feet; when that happens, Bandit chases it, smells it then she’ll BARK at it. Jim laughs at that, so now he tries to pop them for distance.

 

 

One day Jim was preparing to grill some burgers, so Bandit followed the plate of food outside and sat down about ten feet away. He doesn’t like it, when Bandit appears to be begging while at the cooking or eating area. So he motions with his head to shoo her away and she leaves.

 

 

When Bandit was a pup though, she wouldn’t go away so easily, sometimes not at all. One day when Jim was frying some Tilapia, he put the olive oil in the pan, threw the fish in, spiced it up and squirted some LEMON juice on it. Bandit was begging at the smell of the food, so as he nodded her away he squirted her face with the juice. All Jim has to do now is nod his head to the left or right and Bandit leaves. It’s funny, but poor Bandit.