"…his stories are always sharp and compact and interesting." ——Angel Martinez "(One of) the hottest authors in the independent horror scene…" —-Hellbound Books
Of course I read the usual weekly stories by Kaje Harper and the monthly flash fiction by E. H. Timms. (Thanks for posting to the Flash Fiction Draw Challenge, E. H!)
Read the Kuttner/Moore story “Rain Check,” which I’m pretty sure I read years ago. It’s in their fine collection “A Gnome There Was.” I’ve seen the ending gimmick in at least a couple of other stories but this may have been the first written, from 1946.
Started reading Abraham Merritt’s 1932 novel “Burn, Witch, Burn.” So far, so good!
Read the Kolchak comic books “Devil In the Details” and “Kyrie.” Pretty good. From Moonstone Comics.
Read/skimmed through Rachel Reid’s Gay Hockey Romance “Heated Rivalry,” source for the TV show. Wrote the February Queer SciFi column about it, check there for more. Also read a little of her books “Game Changer” and “The Long Game.”
Got Frederik Pohl’s autobiographical “The Way the Future Was,” mainly for what he says about his habit of writing four pages a day like I’m trying to do now. Did me good to know that he didn’t always make that goal and he sometimes skipped it for a month or two. I may have this in paperback but I ordered a signed copy.
And I stumbled across a reference on a bog post to a Young Adult series of mysteries by “Bruce Campbell” (pen name of Sam and Beryl Epstein) about “Ken Holt,” a reporter’s son who’s off at boarding school and who gets involved in mystery and adventure with his extended family. I ordered the first “The Secret Of Skeleton Island” and started in on it. Great fun! A nice boy’s adventure/mystery from 1949. Not sure when my copy was printed; the series ran for about thirteen years.
Looking at this, I’m surprised I read this much; the new writing schedule means I have cut back on the reading time but still I read a lot!
And I’m sure I read another story or two and didn’t write it down.
Well, I surprised myself. I kept my New Year’s Resolution and am writing about four pages a day. It doesn’t happen every day and sometimes it comes off as just a couple of pages or even a few lines or I’ll edit and send off some stuff. Or, like last night, I’ll just plot/synopsize something I’m working on. So far since the last Progress Report I’ve finished fourteen stories, some of them full-length, some flashes and about half of the full-length stories I finished are things I had unfinished in my files. Plus I worked on several stories that aren’t finished yet, and did one of my Queer Sci-Fi columns.
So, the four pages thing is a great motivator and some of the stories I’ve finished since starting this routine in mid-December I’ve sent off to markets.
Fingers crossed! (Which could make it difficult to type!!)
“There. On the damn door. Glowing so much you can’t miss it.” Ramsey said.
“Oh yeah…” Dennis said.
The thing on the door was about six inches long, built in sections like a large millipede.
Except, of course, it was made out of light.
A Photolox inside a house was pretty rare. It was also something of a pest. One of the genus of light-based creatures that had once roamed the planet, now only these remained. About as intelligent as a cockroach they generally sought out dark places in the woods. They were harmless but they generated light and tended to keep people up if they found their way into their homes.
“You know how that thing got in here, don’t you?” Dennis asked.
“Through the glass of the window.” Ramsey said.
“Maybe, but it was attracted to the house because it’s made of wood like the forests it likes to crawl around in. And you keep the house dark like the forests…well…” Dennis said.
Ramsey shrugged. “I like it dark.”
“Yeah, well you keep a bulb burning in the living room and you’ll avoid having this problem.” Dennis said.
Dennis glanced around. The house was small, it had been cozy once. Now the small windows were shut and covered in drapes.
The Photolox was just standing there on the closet door, it’s tail (they presumed it was a tail) gently swaying from side to side.
“There’s no real reason for you to keep the house dark when you’re here,” Dennis said.
“Like I said, I like it that way,” Ramsey said.
“You shouldn’t.” Dennis said. “I mean, he’s been gone six years. You need to let some light in. Maybe this Photolox is a sign.”
“I don’t believe in signs.” Ramsey said.
“Mmmmm hmmm.” Dennis muttered. They’d had this conversation before.
They were silent for a minute or so.
“I brought something just in case,” Dennis said. He reached into the overnight bag he’d brought with him and pulled out a pair of big gloves that resembled oven mitts with mirrors on the surface. “I can grab him with these,” he said.
“Him?” Ramsey snickered. “Those things are sexless.”
“Lots of us are sexless these days.” Dennis muttered under his breath.
Dennis walked slowly over to the closet door, hands outstretched.
“I’m just glad I had these gloves over at my place,” Dennis said. He carefully reached out to the creature which suddenly skittered down the door and across the floor. “Damn.” Dennis muttered.
“It’s under the table,” Ramsey said.
“Big old wooden table with a tablecloth, where it’s dark.” Dennis said.
Dennis crouched down. “Doing this was a lot easier twenty years ago when I was forty,” he grunted.
He peeked under the floor length tablecloth and saw the Photolox, shining and transparent on one of the table legs.
“Yes.” Dennis whispered as he reached out and grabbed the creature with his gloved hands.
A Photolox had no real substance or weight but the special gloves could touch it and it felt like it weighed as much as an average house cat.
“Get the door,” Dennis said as he struggled to his feet with a series of grunts.
Ramsey opened the door and Dennis, holding the squirming Photolox at arm’s length, (no one said they were dangerous), walked into the yard and across the street to where there was a grove of trees looking shadowy in the dusk.
“Enjoy,” Dennis said setting the creature down on a log. It twitched there for a moment, then disappeared between the trees.
“Thanks,” Ramsey said.
“Anytime.” Dennis said, pulling off the gloves which were feeling sweaty. He took a deep breath. “You know, my house has plenty of room and plenty of windows.”
Ramsey looked out into the trees. “Maybe.” he said.
Dennis put his hand on Ramsey’s shoulder and the two men stood there in the dusk looking for a glimmer of a Photolox as the stars came out.
—end—
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This story came out differently than I intended. I’d already referenced Valentine’s Day in the Flash Fiction Draw Challenge story (“Crown Him With Many Crowns” also on this blog) and had no intention of doing a romantic story. But I was writing most of it on Valentine’s Day and it just came out that way. —–jeff
We were parked in the parking lot of the old Quickie-Mart drinking the sodas we’d gotten from the store and laughing about our High School days where we would have ridden down here on our bikes and maybe sat under the big tree that used to be at one edge of the lot.
“Hey, look over there,” I said pointing at the tall wooden fence that separated the lot from the first of the houses that ran down the street. “Somebody kicked a hole in the bottom of the fence.”
“Looks like it could’ve rotted away,” Steve said. “That fence was here when we were in school and probably when those houses were built.”
“Yeah,” I said remembering the days of Saturday Morning cartoons and homework.
“Some things haven’t changed,” Steve said. “Somebody tossed their trash on the grass.”
He hopped out of the convertible and walked over to pick up the bottle and tossed it expertly into the nearby trash can.
“Hey, Alec,” he said. “Come here and look at this.”
I walked over, careful not to trip on the lumpy asphalt.
“What?” I asked.
“Look at that from here,” Steve said pointing at the hole in the fence.
I saw the grey wood, the hole and through that the green grass with a hint of flowers.
“Pretty, huh?” Steve said. “Like a painting.”
I grinned and nodded. Sometimes it was nice having friends who appreciated art and nature.
“I remember when I was really little my babysitter told me there were doors in garden walls and that what she called ‘the Fairy Folk’ would use them to come into our world.” Steve said.
“Yeah?” I said.
“But in all the years since I never once saw a garden wall.” Steve said. “Hey, let’s head back.
We climbed back in the car and Steve was just about to start it up when I saw something out of the corner of my eye.
“Hey,” I said. We both looked.
There was a blur as if two or three figures moving impossibly fast rushed across the grass and through the hole in the fence.
Steve and I looked at each other.
“Cats,” he said.
“Yeah, cats.” I replied.
We drove back home not saying a word, imagining vast gardens beyond the fence that stretched on forever.
We were sitting in a booth at Los Tacos which was nearly deserted at this time of the afternoon.
Drew adjusted the yellow crown he had perched on his head. It was made of thick wires painted gold and looked more like something a beauty pageant contestant would wear, not a College junior.
“What for?” Drew said with a grin.
God his grin could make me melt.
“It belongs to the Theater Department,” I said. “They’ll miss it. They’ll…”
“What?” Drew said. “Clap me in irons and throw me in the bloody tower?”
“No, but they could expel you or call the cops.” I said.
“Why?” Drew said. “We’re supposed to promote the show and what better way than to show off the costumes?”
“Yeah,” I said glumly. “It’s not like we need any more publicity.”
The Colleges spring production had made the local news because we were doing Shakespeare’s Henry VIII, a play that probably was mostly written by somebody else and so our director had turned around and re-written the whole thing. Drew was working on the tech crew. So was I and I was covering a couple of bit parts.
Someone suggested calling it “Henry IX.”
“You should have worn those purple pantaloons and that hat with the feather in it, Kip!” Drew said.
“That would attract attention all right,” I said. “Look, you’re not supposed to take school property off-campus without…”
“Who’s off-campus?” Drew said with a shrug. “Last time I looked Los Tacos is still in a corner of a campus parking lot.”
I sat there and blinked like a character in an old Warner Brothers cartoon.
“Oh, yeah.” I said. “Right.”
“Anyway,” Drew said munching on his taco salad. “Do you want to, you know, go out this weekend? On like, a date?”
I smiled. Usually Drew was pretty forceful and fearless. But when it came to asking a guy out…
“Hey, we’re busy working on the play this semester.” I said. “That’s kind of like a perpetual date, isn’t it?”
Drew grinned and nodded.
“You know, even with Valentine’s Day right around the corner you’re still a sweet, funny, infuriating year-round Valentine’s Day card.” I said, leaning in to kiss Drew over the table.
We held the kiss for a moment.
“Uh, Kip…” Drew said.
“Yeah?” I said, looking dreamily into Drew’s eyes.
“You’ve got your elbow in my salad…”
—end—
AUTHOR’S NOTE: The draws for the February Flash Fiction Draw Challenge were A Romance, set in a Mexican Restaurant including a Crown from a Theater Prop Room.
First, here’s the prompts for the February 2026 Flash Fiction Draw Challenge, then my usual long-winded explanation:
A Romance
Involving A Crown From A Theater Prop Room
Set in A Mexican Restaurant
Now, on to the details.
Hi! I’m Mike Mayak, I also write as Jeff Baker and I’m the current moderator for the monthly Flash Fiction Draw Challenge, which was started by ‘Nathan Burgoine a few years ago and carried on by Cait Gordon and Jeffrey Ricker. It’s a monthly writing challenge mainly for stress-free fun that anyone can play.
Here’s how it works: the first Monday of every month I draw three cards; a heart, a diamond and a club. These correspond to a list naming a genre, a setting and an object that must appear in the story. Participants write up a flash fiction story, 1,000 words or less, post it to their website and link it here in the comments. I’ll post the results (including, hopefully, one of my own!)
As I’m no good making videos I did the drawing offstage. So, the results were the Four of Hearts (a Romance), the Three of Diamonds (A Mexican Restaurant) and the Two of Clubs (A Crown From A Theater Prop Room.)
So we will write a Romance, set in a Mexican Restaurant involving a Crown From A Theater Prop Room.
We’ll have the results here in this same space around Monday February 16th, 2026.
So, get to writing and I’ll post the results next week! And I’m putting the 2026 Flash Draw sheet at the end of this message, again! (* indicates those have been used.)
Thanks for playing, and I’ll see you in about week!
“Honey,” Todd said looking out the window of the couple’s breakfast nook. “Come look at what the new neighbors have on their fence.”
“Another practice dummy for his broadsword fights?” Andy said as he scooped more scrambled eggs onto his plate from the pan on the stove.
“No, if it was a fight it wasn’t with a dummy,” Todd said pointing. “Look.”
Andy glanced out the window at the house next door. Perched on top of one of the ornate, smooth-tipped spears that made up the gate to the neighbor’s backyard was a large human skull. The skull was tilted upward as if it was grinning at the clouds.
“Looks like he’s waiting for rain,” Andy said. “Think it’s anybody we know?”
“Hope not,” Todd said.
The two young men kissed and Andy sat down and started in on the eggs.
“Gotta admit,” Andy said between bites. “They are nice neighbors. I mean, if a barbarian warlord and his…what? Partner?”
“His ‘woman,’ he calls her.” Todd said with a grin.
“Yeah, well it could be a lot worse.” Andy said. “Dimensional portal opens up and dumps them on Earth and they wind up living on the suburbs.” He looked up with a pained expression on his face. “Oh, Geez. That sounds like the setup to a bad Sixties sitcom.”
“Call it ‘The Barbarian Of Country Acres Avenue.’” Todd said with a laugh.
There was a knock at their front door.
“Now who could that be this early on a Saturday morning,” Andy said getting up from the table. “As if I couldn’t guess.”
Their new neighbors kept stranger hours than he did and he was a freelance artist.
Andy opened the door and found Vargon standing there, wearing a pleasant Hawaiian shirt, shorts and the golden belt with the hilt for his sword. Andy tried not to glance at the six-foot-something man’s huge thighs and muscular arms and chest.
“Forgive me for bothering you early, it is I, Vargon of Keltpagore. Defender of Arimoch. Protector of the Eagle, Marinth. Warrior of his father, King Zargon.”
“Good morning,” Andy said, still expecting Vargon to name check Castle Greyskull. “Do you want to come in? We have breakfast. Pancakes, eggs. The whole shebang.”
“No, I have other affairs to tend to but I thank you with gratitude.” Vargon said. “I was practicing with my War Bola and I believe it ended up in your back yard. May I retrieve it?”
“Of course.” Andy said. “Just go through here out the back way.”
“My gratitudes to you again good Sir.” Vargon said.
“Hey, Vargon! Care for some pancakes?” Todd said from his place at the table.
“Not this day, I have eaten hours before.” Vargon said as he walked out the sliding glass door.
Todd and Andy were still surprised Vargon didn’t simply smash his way through a glass door but they kept that to themselves. A few minutes later, Vargon stepped back into the house, holding his War Bola by the leather strap, wiping of a gloppy red substance from one of the dangerous-looking black iron balls.
“My apologies for the mess,” Vargon said. “The bola made short work of one of your tomato plants. Something I did not intend.”
“Uh, that’s okay,” Todd said, glad it wasn’t somebody’s remains Vargon was wiping off with a rag.
“Hey, Vargon, where did you get that, uh, nice skull?” Andy asked.
Vargon looked up puzzled.
“The one on the fence.” Todd said.
“Oh, that one!” Vargon said with a laugh. “It is plastic. What you call a Hollowing Decoration. My Woman and I found it at your flea Market. Shopkeeper glad we could pay in gold.”
Vargon had gotten a job modeling for advertisements but they had brought some gold with them during the dimensional shift that had brought them here.
“The skull will serve as a warning to those who would attack.” Vargon said. “Although an attack is not that likely. And Vargon, the Swordsman of many battles is bored. When do hoards of trolls with their hammers or Dal Lords inflamed with sorcery come to Country Acres?”
“Probably not for a while,” Todd said. He suddenly glanced at Andy, he had an idea.
“Vargon, have you ever been to a place called Minnesota?” Todd asked.
The Barbarian shook his head.
Andy’s face lit up.
“Have you ever heard of ICE?” Andy asked
“Ice? I have been to the Frosty Lands.” Vargon said.
“Vargon,” Andy said. “Have we got a battle for you…”
Johnson “Dobby” Dobbins III half-walked, half-staggered into the second floor apartment he shared with his partners, tossed his overnight bag on the sofa and considered calling out “Honey, I’m home,” except that it was eleven-thirty. He looked around the apartment and grinned broadly. Two and a half weeks and it hadn’t changed. Pillows still stacked on one chair, magazines on the coffee table and the fridge in the kitchen plastered with mementos and pictures of the extended lives and families of the three guys who had decided to become a family themselves.
Even the empty bag of cereal held by a refrigerator magnet to the door because Rich or Todd thought it worked better than writing a note that they’d forget to take to the store, so in the end one of them would zap a picture of it with his phone and that would be the shopping list.
“Hey, I thought it was you.” That was Rich, short with stringy brown hair, wandering into the living room wearing just a pair of basketball shorts with a team logo.
“Yeah, me.” Dobby said. “The Ancient Mariner returns.”
“You don’t look like the Ancient Mariner,” Rich said after they kissed. “No beard.”
“Shaved this morning,” Dobby said. “I would’ve been back a day earlier but I had to slow down for ice.”
“ICE?” Rich asked.
“The frozen water kind.” Dobby said.
“Oh.” Rich said. “Todd’s already in bed crashed-out.”
“I don’t blame him.” Dobby said. “I had myself a few adventures out there this time. Not the least of which was I got turned around on the road because one of the signs had been knocked down and I missed a turnoff.”
“Uh-Oh,” Rich said.
“Yeah. I didn’t realize until about an hour later when the clouds lifted and I saw the sun rising on the right, meaning I was headed the wrong way.”
“Not good.”
“I turned back but I had to wait around at my last stop and by then I had to take a break. Then I headed here. At last.” Dobby said.
“Want something to eat?” Rich asked.
“Naaah.” Dobby said. “Grabbed a snack on the way. Besides we’re out of cereal.”
Rich laughed. Dobby put his arm around Rich’s shoulder and they headed towards the bedroom. Dobby began to recite:
“The Bridegroom’s doors are opened wide
And I am next of kin
But after that long drive I’ve had
I’m just sleeping in.”
In the dark apartment the three men somehow had the same dream: They were on an old sailing ship, clear skies, pleasant sailing and even the Albatross pointed their way towards a green and flowered shore.
Every Week at Rainbow Snippets https://www.facebook.com/groups/RainbowSnippets participants post six lines of a work of theirs, a work-in-progress or a work by someone else that has LGBT characters. My snippets this week come from “Selected Shorts,” Cait Gordon’s fine anthology of disability-friendly LGBT-flavored sci-fi and fantasy. Here’s a bit from maybe my favorite of the stories “Ranger Of the Sea.”
When a Mermaid suddenly finds a blind sailor all but dropped in her lap, what’s a girl to do?
The human jumped and turned his head to the right and left. “Who’s there? Are you the one I seek?”
Abigail paused, then swam closer to set herself on the shore.
“I am here,” she signed.
There was no response at first.
“Who is there?” he repeated, tilting his head toward the sound of her tail flapping against the wet sand.
authorjeffbaker 