Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

Overheard

"I don't think it will fit in my garage!" Betty explained, exasperated. Her friend Wilma gave her the side-eye.
"How is that even possible? Your garage is bigger than my entire house."
"That may be true, but it's filled with junk! And I do mean filled. Don't forget we downsized when we moved here. All the crap that didn't fit in the house is in the garage." Betty said, wiping a bit of latte foam from her chin. "Why did you buy that thing if you had no place to put it?" she asked Wilma.
"Okay, it was an impulse buy, I admit it. But when I tried to return it, the store manager said that because it was on clearance the sale was final. I mean he could have taken it back but he was one of those people who get a little power and it goes straight to their head."
"Do you really, I mean really not have room for it in your garage?" Betty asked.
Wilma ran her well manicured fingers through her well manicured hair. "No." she said. "I don't."
They had been walking in the park, on a dismal winter morning, fulfilling their pledge to meet there every Monday morning at 6:00 a.m. regardless of the weather. They arrived at Betty's car. She put the travel mug on the roof while she rummaged through her bag for the car keys. Wilma checked her phone.
"Well, let me see what I can do." Betty sighed. "I should probably make an effort to clear some of that junk out anyway
"Oh thank you thank you thank you!" Wilma shouted, jumping up and down.
"Yeah, well while I'm busy cleaning out, you get busy trying to sell that that cow."
"Sell it?" replied Wilma blankly. "Oh no, I'm not going to sell it. I have to try and get hold of a milking machine and then I'm in business!"
Betty, who had been mid-swallow, spewed latte all over her car window.
Wilma reached into her bag and pulled out a napkin. "Here," she said cheerfully, "let me clean that for you."

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