My Best Friend Bert - #8

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Bert is just being Bert in this story of a lightning strike, actually two strikes. It is a good thing that it wasn't three strikes or there wouldn't be any more of these stories.

Submitted: July 12, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 12, 2018



Bert and I went to Veggie-World for lunch. It's a new place at the shopping mall that Bert wanted to try.

Bert hasn't gone Vegans or anything, not that Vegan is a bad thing. It's just that Bert's wife wants him to cut down on the burgers and fries; so we are trying different places.

The place is real trendy, at least that is what Bert calls it, but to me it looks like an Italian restaurant inside. You know, grapevines painted on the walls and pictures of women without shoes carrying baskets of vegetables.

The guy that seated us looked Italian too; he had long black hair tied in one of those bun-things. But when he talked he sounded more like a surfer from Huntington Beach; words like "way-cool", gnarly", and "hook-you-up".

We ordered a Large Veggie Pizza and two lite beers; it looked to be the safest pick on the menu.

Bert likes to talk to strangers so he started a conversation with the young woman who was seated next to us. She was having a Veggie Pizza too and Bert asked her how she liked it.

Well one topic changed to another, which always happens when Bert is talking to strangers, and somehow Bert ended up telling her his Lightning Strike Story.

Bert was saying, "Well there I was getting something out of the trunk of the car, don't remember what it was now. Anyway, I was standing in the middle of the driveway and it was rain-in like all get-out. You could hear the thunder-boomers off in the distance. Boom! Boom! Boom!

Our dog, Poesy, was running around splashing in the puddles and barking like there was no tomorrow. She was having a blast!

I yelled at her to get herself in the mudroom because she wasn't listening to my wife who had been calling her.

All of a sudden I heard this sound, ("CRACK!"), and the next thing I knew Poesy was laying on the black-top in a puddle of water.

The only movement she was making was the occasional Twitch, and some of her hair was smoking. It was the most sorrowful thing I'd ever seen, that smoking dog on the wet blacktop. I was stunned!"

After a moment Bert continued by saying, "Well my Wife went ballistic and that snapped me out of my stunned state. She was yelling at me to save her poor baby.

The dog was already hit! Now I ask you, how was I going to save her?"

The woman at the next table, with eyes wide in anticipation, just shrugged her shoulders unknowingly.

Bert continued again by saying, "Well, I decided to scoop Poesy up and carry her inside; she's a Cock-ah-poo so she doesn't weigh much. But as soon as I was about to do so, ("CRACK!"), I got nailed too.

So you see, I guess that just goes to prove that what they say about lightning not striking twice in the same place, well that’s nonsense.

The woman at the next table said, "But what about Poesy, and you for that matter, are both of you alright?"

Bert replied, "It turned out that Poesy wasn't directly hit by the bolt. It seems my car antenna took the hit and Posey got the after effects. After a haircut and a good brushing she was fine.

And as for me, I took a direct hit on top of my head and it went out my wet boots, right into the water.

The doctor said that I might experience some short term memory loss but I haven’t noticed any. Thanks for asking."

“Oh no, thank you,” said the woman, “I just love stories about freaky weather.

To which Bert replied, "You do? Well would you like to hear my lightning strike story?”

"There I was getting something out of the trunk of the car; don't remember what it was now. ..."



D. Thurmond / JEF


© Copyright 2020 D. Thurmond aka JEF aka JE Falcon aka James Everett Falcon. All rights reserved.

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