Saturday, May 7, 2016


On Tuesday, Susan and I, will be going on vacation. We're both looking forward to it. Neither of us has been to Mesa Verde before, and she hasn't been to Great Sand Dunes before, or four corners.
I will try to do some posts on our vacation. I'm sure I'll be uploading a lot of pictures to View Bug too. I really like to do the photography competitions.
For the near future I probably won't be posting any more flash fiction shorts. They are fun to do so I'm sure I'll be making more.

Thursday, May 5, 2016

Trip (flash fiction, 700 words.)

The Studebaker had done well on this trip for the last 800 miles. He still had a thousand to go. It wasn’t that he wanted to travel. He had to relocate because of his job as an insurance agent at a new agency. 1959 was turning out to be a good year with a whole new set of beginnings.
  Charlie was headed to his new job in Los Angeles, and on a whim, he decided he wanted to go through the mountains for part of the trip. It would be fun he told himself. He’d never been to the Rocky Mountains before and he wanted to see them at least once. He might never get the chance to do it again.
  He knew his life would change greatly from what it had been in Des Moines. It was okay though, he’d always rolled with the punches no matter what came about. He commonly told himself, don’t let the bastards get down.
  Having listened to the monotony of the wind noise for far too long he reached over and turned on the radio. Static filled the car. He turned the dial to find a station to no avail. Only the static emanated from the speaker. With a frown he turned the radio off again.
  His stomach growled. It had been several hours since he had eaten last. In the next town I’ll find a diner.
  After the next curve billowing fog filled the air ahead which derailed his thoughts. Pay attention Charlie. He reached over and turned on the headlights which were on the high beams. The light glared and he couldn’t see much of anything, including the road. Tapping the floor switch he switched to low beams.
  As he drove the fog grew thicker. He eased up on the pedal so the car would slow. His heart rate increased and his breathing got faster.
  After what had seemed like a long time the pavement ended. The car swerved on the dirt and he almost lost control. Stomping on the brakes he slowed the car to about 20 miles per hour.
  Continuing on the road became a pair of wagon ruts. He had to slow down even more. The car rocked with all of the dips in the turf. What in the hell happened to the road? His forward momentum slowed to a crawl.
  Seeing a log cabin by the creek he drove toward it. He had to find out what was going on. At least he thought he could find out where he would meet up with the road again. This track wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Charlie gawked at his surroundings as he got close to the cabin and stopped the car.
  A strange looking man stepped up on the creek bank. He was wearing some kind of a pelt for a hat and he looked like a trapper from the old days. The rifle he was holding looked an old repeating rifle.
  “What in tarnation is that thing?!”
  “You’ve never seen a car before?” Charlie was shocked.
  “What’s a car?” An oblivious expression covered the man’s face.
  Charlie shook his head. This had to be a nightmare. When the hell am I? There was nothing he could compare this to.
  “I think I’m lost. Could you tell me how to get back to the highway?”
  “I guess you turn around and head back the way you came.” The trapper spit into the grass.
  Charlie had to know a little more about something. “Can you tell me where I’m at?”
  The man spit in the grass again and pointed the rifle at Charlie. “You’re in Mexico. You aren’t going to tell those bastards I’m here, are you?”
  “No, I won’t. I’ll leave now.”
  “Have a good day then.” The man held the rifle up and kept watching as Charlie attempted to turn the car around. Afraid of get shot he tried hurrying up. He had to get back to the road as fast as he could. As soon as he was out of sight of the cabin he breathed a sigh of relief. This would be a trip he’d never forget.

The end

Monday, May 2, 2016

Walkabout (flash fiction)

John loved these evening walks on the lake shore away from his many daily cares of his business. The walks allowed him to take a few moments to take break from everything. It was just never long enough to be a real break so he called them walkabouts.

  He stopped walking a moment and turned to look back at the cabin. Four years ago he had bought it for these little getaways he’d always wanted to take but never could. He was too busy too often. One day he wanted to take a whole week at a time instead of just a weekend here and there like he was doing now. The cool sand felt great on the soles of his bare feet in the evening.

  Smiling, he turned, to look out over the water. The expanse of stars reflected on the surface of the water. A single light caught his attention as it arced through the darkness.

  I wonder where that plane is going.

  The moving light slowed and came closer until it was directly overhead. Then, it descended toward the surface of the water slowly. John could only stand there in awe and watch it.

  In a few minutes it stopped a short distance from the surface of the water. Hovering it appeared as if the surface of the craft was pulsing with faint blue lights. A soft pulsating sound filled the air. What the fuck?

  Out of the bottom of the craft a beam came down to the surface of the water. Something dark travelled up through the beam of light to the craft.

  Unable to contain himself any longer John squeaked, “oh, Jesus Christ!”

  The beam disappeared and the light pulses across the surface of the craft changed from soft blue to red. To John’s shock the craft came closer to him. His heartbeat thumped in his ears though he was barely able to distinguish it. The soft pulsating sound increased in volume.

  Wanting to run and hide John was riveted in place. His mouth hung open in rapt attention.

  Directly over his head the craft stopped. Out of the bottom of the craft the beam started to descend toward John. His vision faded and he collapsed to the ground.

  All became darkness.

  In future nightmares he’d relive the next few hours of time.

The end