Ficlets

Fred poked at it with his foot. “I think that might not be so good, Bob.”

“Yeah,” sighed Bob. “I’m with you on this one.”

“Pretty sure that’s bad.”

“Yeah,” nodded Bob as he flipped it over using a piece of scrap wood. “Can’t say I ever heard of anyone bragging when something like that happened.”

“Pretty sure you’re right.”

“Yeah.”

“What you going to do, Bob?”

“Not sure. Maybe poke it some more…” said Bob while he poked it some more.

Fred poked it some more.

“Anything else, Bob? I don’t think this is helping.”

Fred poked it some more.

“Hey, Fred?” asked Bob.

“Yes, Bob?” asked Fred.

“Let’s put in in a bag.”

“Why a bag, Bob?”

“We can take it with us, Fred,” answered Bob.

“With us, where, Bob?”

“To the hospital, I guess.”

Fred was impressed. “Hey, now that’s and idea, Bob! I’ll get a bag!”

“Better let me get it, Fred,” said Bob. “And, Fred…”

“Yes, Bob?”

“You need to be more careful near the band-saw, OK?”

“Yes, Bob.”