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When I was working for a Visiting Nurse Company, I visited 7-8 home-bound patients a day.
One rainy day getting out of my car I put my black coat's hoodie on and walked up to the apartment building. A few seconds after I got out of the elevator on the third floor, the lights went out.

The hallway turned pitch dark, and I couldn't see anything. Great! They forgot to change the battery in the emergency lights. I fumed. But at least, I didn't get stuck in the elevator.

I took my small penlight out of my uniform pocket and made my way to apartment 3 C to visit Mrs. Jones who was recuperating after her knee replacement. A few seconds after I knocked on the door, I heard the shuffle of her walker and then the click of the peephole cover followed by a loud scream.

"Get the gun, Joe!" she yelled and screamed again. "There is a hooded bandit at the door!"

"No, no, no!" I tried to assure her. "Look!" And to make it sure she can see me, I shined the flashlight on my face.

Her scream coming through the locked door pierced my eardrum. "Joe! Get that f****ng gun, I tell you!"

My heart thumping in my throat, I didn't wait for Joe to get his gun. I raced down the hallway and found the staircase. Tumbling down the half-dark stairs I finally reached the main floor and ran to my car as fast as I could.

When I got back to the office, I called Mrs. Jones. "You're not gonna believe what happened!" she blurted it out before I could say anything. "A bandit in a hoodie and mask had tried to break into the apartment when the lights went out. You said you were coming, but you were lucky not to be here when that criminal tried to break down the door. I scared him away, though. I screamed and Joe got his gun, but by the time the police got here, he was gone."

While she was talking, I kept thinking. She probably phoned all her friends and family members by now with her story, so if I told her I was the "hooded bandit" at her door, she'd be a laughing stock in her circle, for months.

"I'm running a bit late today, Mrs. Jones. I'll be there after lunch." I told her, but I called the police station and confessed to the officer and I told him not to look for the "bandit". The officer had a good laugh and promised he would tell Mrs. Jones only that they couldn't find the intruder.

​This is a fun quiz, I don't collect emails or any information about you.
The links may lead to a page, click on it or not, it's your choice.
​Just for fun, let me know in comments what is your favorite genre.

People are so quick to assume and judge without checking the facts. Sometimes it turns out to be funny, but other times the quick judgment and gossip could cause havoc and heartache.

The old neighbor across the street approached my friend's husband shortly after they moved to their new home. "I just want to warn you that your wife is having an affair."

"Oh?" he said. "What makes you say that?"

"Because that young guy you know with the beard and long hair comes over quite a lot when you're not home, and he stays for hours. And yesterday, a black fella came with him, too."

"I know," my fried's husband replied. "He's been helping my wife painting the nursery, and the black fella is his long time boyfriend."

The old man's jaw feel. "You mean he's gay?"

"Yes, he came out long ago, when he was a teenager."

The old neighbor felt bad, but the the damage was done. The old man started the gossip mill already before he spoke to the husband, and when her pregnancy became visible, people assumed it was the "boyfriend's" baby. It took a year before everyone in the gossip circle got the confirmation that she wasn't a cheater.

Send me your gossip mill stories via CONTACT and I will post them on this blog page. If the stories can stop the wheels of one gossip mill from turning, it could prevent that person from a lot of heartache.

​This is a fun quiz, I don't collect emails or any information about you.
The links may lead to a page, click on it or not, it's your choice.
​Just for fun, let me know in comments what type of writer you are.

​When I was a kid, my mother often made crêpes (palacsinta in Hungarian) for dessert because it’s easy to make and she could use any filling to make it a little different every time. Sometimes she filled the crêpes with cream cheese mixed with sugar and raisins, other times with chopped fruit, apricot or strawberry preserves, leftover pudding, or simply sprinkled them with cinnamon or cocoa powder and sugar. I’ve tried it with Nutella too; it’s delish!
When I’m not in the mood for sweets, I leave the sugar and vanilla out of the batter and fill the crêpes with sauteed vegetables and meat, fish, or cheese.

When I was a young teenager, I decided to make crepes when my parents weren’t home. I’d seen my mom make crêpes hundreds of times, so I was sure I could cook them too. Everything went well. I mixed the batter, and the first few crêpes turned out beautifully cooked until...

I got a little over-confident and instead of turning the crêpes with the spatula, I decided to flip to turn them like my brother did. That didn’t work so well. The first crêpe I tried to flip landed on Snowball’s back like a blanket.
The cat got spooked and ran out of the kitchen to the backyard, trying to shake off the clinging pastry. She couldn’t, because one side was still sticky, so she ran, and I ran after her.

The trouble started when the neighbors’ cats got a whiff and started chasing Snowball through the garden and tearing bits of crêpe off her back. Snowball had enough of running; she turned, and a fierce fight broke out with lots of posturing, hissing, and clawing.

Luckily, the fight ended quickly as soon as the crêpe was gone. Snowball tried to save some dignity and chased after the cats. She was exhausted by the time she chased the neighbors’ cats home and went inside to eat her well-deserved crêpe filled with meat.

A legendary, mythical, and mythological creature, also called a fabulous creature and fabulous beast, is a supernatural animal, generally a hybrid, sometimes part human, whose existence has not or cannot be proved and that is described in folklore but also in historical accounts before history became a science. Wikipedia

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