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Will Write 4 Food
Monthly Writing Contest


Will Write 4 Food: Winning Stories July 2011


July First Place Winner

By Larry Porricelli


            “I was hungry, Doc, that simple.”

            “You call a nurse, she would have gotten you something.”

            “Yeah, right. Mud tastes better than that eco-pudding. I know. I’ve eaten

some of the finest mud from the Dead Sea.”

            “These are glass Petri dishes, with live cultures growing in them.”

            “No wonder they were so tasty.”

            “Jim, if I report this, you aren’t going home.”

            “That’s okay, Doc. The food here is better.”

            “We’ve removed a clock, a gun, and a DVD, don’t you think

something’s wrong with this picture?”

            “You forgot the rocking chair.”

            “We couldn’t document that claim – there were just wood slivers left.”

            “It was good, damn good. I wish I got the cat that used to sleep by it.”

            “Jim, I have no suggestions as to what to do for you.”

            “Doc, just let me eat what the hell I want.”

            “Would like to, but the ethics, understand?”

            “There ain’t real food left. Anywhere.”

            “Dammit Jim, I’m a doctor, not a farmer.”

            “Then let me go. For old time’s sake.”

            “Where to, Jim, everything on this planet is destroyed.”

            “There’s hope, Doc, there always was with our crew.”

            “Sorry to inform you those Petri dishes held the hope to manufacture

sufficient supplements for survival until we rebuilt the planet.”

            “My god.”

            “You’ll survive, Jim, but most of us are goners.”

            “Doc, there were two more Petri dishes left – they could still help us.”

            “Yes, Jim, they could have, but Spock and Uhuru ate those.”

July Honorable Mention
                                    “THE GIFT”
By Lynnette Baum            

Dr. Lorene Kaufman, Ph.D., pulled on latex gloves, before picking up the two petri dishes. One held a yellow culture in its shallow glass repository, the other a fungal growth that glowed a virulent red. Red, like her sister’s new BMW convertible; red, like her ruby encrusted wedding ring; red, like the lipstick smeared across her pouting mouth, that her idiot husband was constantly kissing in public. Kenny, Lorene’s former partner in college chem.-lab, had married Ruby, after dumping Lorene.

Remembering, Lorene growled.

She hadn’t been lucky with men. Tall, intellectual and competitive, every boyfriend had fallen in love with her sister Ruby. Ruby’s complexion was pore-less, her eyes violet, her teeth white as a bathroom wall. And, she radiated contentment, purring at men like a cat on a hearthrug.

Desperately, Lorene tried to create a formula that made plain faces beautiful, stumbling, instead, onto a recipe for ugliness, with her long-suffering monkeys providing “proof positive” of its effectiveness. Mixing the contents of the petri dishes into a lanolin base, she spooned it into a fancy jar. Placing it by Ruby’s front door, Lorene hovered outside, waiting and watching. Ruby sank down at her vanity, opened the jar and dumped its’ contents into a wastebasket.

“Dearest Kenny,” she murmured, spooning in her $500 Bellafante face cream. “I can’t hurt his feelings. Next time, I’ll give it to Lorene...”

Nearby, a neighbor’s dog gave an anguished howl. Beautiful Ruby closed her window and wished the poor creature good luck!





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