"…his stories are always sharp and compact and interesting." ——Angel Martinez "(One of) the hottest authors in the independent horror scene…" —-Hellbound Books
We could use it to escape Earth’s gravity, travel beyond the Moon and cross galaxies. It had near-infinite power but that meant it could only go as fast as I could pedal. In reality, it was my first bike and my friends and I tooled around the neighborhood when I was eight years old in the bygone nineteen-seventies.
Around the block was around the world.
Down three blocks to the corner convenience store was the other side of the universe, full of comic books or a soda paid with hard-spent allowance.
Eventually, the Star Cruiser went to my little cousin and I got a bigger bike. Then I learned to drive.
And now my little cousin’s little daughter has long outgrown the Star Cruiser, so for Christmastime they fastened the bike to a post in their yard.
Festooned with lights, it shines in the dark. A gleaming constellation.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: The draws for the May 2024 Flash Fiction Draw Challenge were; An Adventure Story, set at the Temple Of Diana In Greece, featuring Warm Woolen Mittens. Here’s what I came up with. —-mike
“And now, your passport to adventure, your challenge to excitement, your Race To Destiny!”
The last three words from the radio echoed and the two kids in the living room cheered. After promoting the sponsor’s product, the announcer’s voice continued.
“When last we left our dauntless adventurers, Harry, Bart and Molly, they had followed the clues to one of the most famous spots in the world; the Temple Of Diana, in Greece.”
“Gosh, guys, doesn’t the Temple look beautiful with the moonlight reflecting off the marble columns and all?” Bart’s voice came from the radio.
“Yes, and I’ll bet we’re the only tourists here at this hour.” Molly said.
“The only ones who aren’t up to no good.” Harry said.
“Hear that?” Skipper said listening in their living room. “Up to no good!”
Skipper was seven, he knew these things. He just barely remembered listening to President Truman declare the end of the War a couple of years earlier.
“But what’s in a temple?” Betty said. She was his twin sister.
“Let’s find out!” Skipper said. He reached behind them and pulled the cushions off the couch and started making a structure like a pillow fort. “Let’s make this the Temple.”
From the radio the Announcer was describing the trio’s ascent of the hill where the Temple sat.
“Just a moment,” Harry said. “We’d better wear our protective gloves, remember what happened last time.”
“Oh, yeah,” Bart said.
“We always use protection,” Molly said.
“Hear that?” Betty said. Looking around the room. “Gloves! Where do we find gloves in Summer?”
“Over here,” Skipper said, rushing to the hall closet. “Mommy keeps them in here.” He rushed back with a big pair of red wool mittens. “One for each of us.”
The twins each put on a mitten and ducked under the cushion structure as the radio adventure went into a commercial. Then, the show started in again.
“Gosh, guys!” Bart said. “This place sure is big and spooky!”
“And empty,” Molly said. “Listen to our voices echo.”
“Stick close to me,” Harry said. “And let me use my flashlight and…wait! What’s that up ahead?”
The three actors suddenly screamed as the ominous music started.
In the living room, Betty and Skipper screamed and burst out of the cushions just as their mother walked into the room
“What are you two doing? The cushions? And my good warm mittens? Honestly!”
“We were just listening to the radio, Mommy!” Skipper said.
“Honestly! Helping explore the Temple Of Diana in Greece.” Betty said.
“Well, you two put everything back up before Daddy gets home.”
“Yes, Mommy,” the twins said.
The two kids happily replaced cushions and mittens as the closing theme and the radio announcer filled the room.
“Yes, kids. Tune in tomorrow and every weekday afternoon for another thrilling episode of Race To Destiny! Brought to you by Sugar Boinkers, the yummy cereal you’ll eat to fuel adventures of your own…”
—end—
AUTHOR’S NOTE: My homage to old-time-radio shows like “Escape” and “The Chase” which I’ve heard on satellite radio. —-mike
First, here’s the prompts for the May 2024 Flash Fiction Draw Challenge. Then my usual long-winded explanation:
An Adventure Story
Involving Warm Woollen Mittens
Set at The Temple Of Diana In Greece
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 (and hopefully have one of my own written!) the week of May13th, 2024.
As I’m no good making videos I did the drawing offstage. So, the results were the Six of Hearts (an Adventure Story), the Five of Diamonds (The Temple Of Diana In Greece) and the Three of Clubs (Warm Woolen Mittens.) So we will write an Adventure Story, set at the Temple Of Diana In Greece, involving Warm Woolen Mittens. (And hope the estate of Rogers and Hammerstein doesn’t sue!)
So, get to writing and I’ll post the results next week! And I’m putting the 2024 Flash Draw sheet at the end of this message, again! (* indicates those have been used.)
Thanks for playing, and I’ll see you next week!
And have fun!
——mike
Flash Draw Sheet for 2024 (“*” indicates prompt has been used.)
Every week we post six lines from a work of ours, a work-in-progress or published or a recommendation of someone else’s work with at least one LGBT character. Posted at Rainbow Snippets here: [LINK]https://www.facebook.com/groups/963484217054974
“Hey, Mickey, how much cash you got?” Jason asked me.
“About twenty bucks, why?” I said.
“Looks like they’re doing a cover charge. And I brought my I. D. but not my wallet.” Jason said. He was always forgetting his wallet.
“Great,” I grumbled. This was 1982, and the only gay bar in the area.
Okay, just a little more!
“I should have thought about bringing some beer to wait to get into a bar,” Chris said. “Hey, there’s a sign on the door.”
“Lemmie check,” Jason said.
“Cover charge is five bucks a head, it’s for some charity,” Jason said as he walked back. “Says something else; that slaves get in free with their masters.”
“Kinky!” Chris said with a grin.
The picture, incidentally, was the prompt that inspired the story. (Neither of those guys are me!)
Next week, something by someone else who isn’t me! Till then, take care!—–jeff
Some of the lights over the convenience store parking lot were burned-out, giving it a shadowy creepy look. The tall redheaded kid and his dog, a small mixed-breed hopped out of the car and headed for the store.
“Hey, guys! Howzit goin?” Said a slurred voice.
Benjy Baxter looked over to see a beat-up white Mustang with a pair of legs in jeans with bare feet sticking out of the passenger side. He waved politely, as his parents had taught him to be, then addressed the dog in a low voice.
“Gosh, Wonky! Remember, this isn’t our side of town!” Benjy opened the door and he walked inside, the dog trotting in after him.
“Hey! You can’t bring that dog in here!” the big clerk said from behind the register.
“This isn’t a dog, sir,” Benjy said. “I mean, he is a dog but not just a dog. This is Wonky, the TV dog.”
The clerk stared down at the dog who was sitting on the floor, looking up as bright-eyed and appealing as he could make himself.
“Well, I’ll be! It IS Wonky! My kids used to watch him every afternoon!” the clerk said, beaming. “But I thought he’d be, you know…”
Benjy smiled. “This is the second Wonky, he was just a puppy when they moved the show to cable six years ago.”
“Well, Wonky can come in as long as he doesn’t make a mess.”
“Don’t worry, he’s trained,” Benjy said. “We’ll just be a minute or two.”
Being the guardian to Wonky was a pretty good job, Benjy thought. His Uncle had trained both dogs (Little Wonk being the older one’s puppy) and had Benjy appear on the show sometimes where Wonky helped introduce cartoons and reruns of shows like “The Man Upstairs.” But the Nineties were almost over and local shows were being canceled. But Wonky was still a big local celebrity and he and Benjy did local TV and radio appearances, usually for the local animal adoption centers. It beat grilling burgers and besides, the first Wonky had been a shelter dog.
Benjy grabbed a burrito for himself and got a bottle of water for Wonky as the burrito was microwaving. When it was done he walked up to the cashier, Wonky trotting happily behind him.
“Okay, this’ll do it,” Benjy said. “The Burrito’s mine the water’s his.”
“You buy him bottled water?” laughed the clerk.
“Actually he bought me the burrito,” Benjy said with a grin. “It’s his money after all.”
“I bet he made some,” the clerk said ringing up the order.
“Yeah, he’s living of those HealthyDog commercials,” Benjy said. “And off the free HealthyDog biscuits and food they give him.”
“Interesting life,” the clerk said.
“Bet it gets real interesting around here,” Benjy said.
“Usually around Eleven-Forty-Five, right before the beer sales stop,” the clerk said. “But it stays pretty quiet after that.”
Benjy waved goodbye and he and Wonky walked out to the parking lot. But wonky stopped, sniffed the air and growled.
“What’s the matter boy?” Benjy said. “You smell cat?”
Wonky suddenly ran to the Mustang and jumped up and latched on to one of the protruding bare feet with his jaws as Benjy looked on in shock thinking of lawsuits.
“Wonky, NO!” Benjy yelled.
In another instant, Wonky slid down the car door with what looked like a manikin leg pulled out from the pant leg.
“Oh, golly!” Benjy said.
Wonky looked around and ran to the darkened side of the convenience store. Benjy followed. There was a growl and a yell. Benjy found Wonky wrestling with the real owner of the real legs who was prying open a side door.
“I’ll call the cops!” Benjy yelled, running for the front door.
When it was all over, Benjy and Wonky heard the story from the clerk. Disgruntled employee, prop legs so he’d look like he was still in the car from the window, and he knew which security cameras weren’t working and he was probably the one who had shot out the light casting the side of the parking lot in darkness so the man could slip out the passenger side while the clerk thought he was still “sleeping it off” in the car when he was really robbing the safe in the back office.
“Yeah, the manager needs to replace the cameras and change the combination,” the clerk said.
“Yeah, especially in a tough neighborhood like this,” Benjy said.
“Hey, if you think this neighborhood is so tough, why did you come to this store in the middle of the night?” asked the clerk.
Benjy grinned. “I grew up around here! I got caught breaking into one of these places when I was about eleven! My Uncle took me in and made me turn my life around!” He bent down and scratched the dog between the ears. “Or I might have wound up a shelter animal too!”
—end—
AUTHOR’S NOTE: My late Husband Darryl had never heard the word “wonky” (which I use a lot) and suggested I do a story about “Wonky The Dog.” He even suggested the title! (Thanks, Honey!)
When I started the story I was going for a “Buster the Show Dog” vibe, more sarcastic like the Prairie Home Companion sketches from 40 years ago. The story changed as I wrote it and I didn’t see Benjy’s last lines coming!
I grew up on a lot of local TV in Wichita, so it all fit in the story. And Benjy and Wonky will have more adventures.
“So that’s it,” Davey said sitting there in the passenger seat. “It isn’t all going to end some day, it isn’t real.”
“What isn’t real,” Chuck said keeping his eyes on the road.
Davey tapped the dashboard. “This. Everything. Us. Hindus believe everything is destroyed and reborn in a cycle and they aren’t even real.”
Davey had always been a little “out there,” even a year before when he and Chuck had actually dated, but he hadn’t been this far out.
I hope Davey’s wrong! But here’s another snippet…
“I mean, it’s all an illusion,” Davey said. “Look, you know that speed zone sign up here past the curve?”
Chuck knew it. His Dad had called it a speed trap sign.
“Always been there, right?” Davey said, “Well, not if I don’t want it to be.”
“ I see the curve,” Chuck said slowing down. But he didn’t see the sign. It wasn’t there.
Chuck laughed. “Yeah, they took the sign down and you’re playing it like it’s The Twilight Zone or something.”
Oooookay. That was weird. And a little over six lines, but you gotta get a “Twilight Zone” reference in! Next week, I promise something a little lighter! Till then, take care!
The two of them could hear the crickets from the darkened trailer and they grinned.
Harve and Lucas had been best friends since Grade School and had been camping out in Harvey’s family’s old trailer parked in the side yard against the house since they were in Jnr. High.
Now they were in their twenties and had become more than friends. When Harve had come back in town from College, he and Lucas had decided to camp out in the trailer overnight. They made sure they locked the door.
Lucas started singing that old song with the lyric about renting a trailer and the two of them busted out laughing. They were lounging on the pull-out bed which was just big enough for two people. They were only wearing shorts.
“Remember Junior year?” Harve said. “The first time we ever…you know, right here?”
“Oh yeah,” Lucas said. “I remember. I’m just glad we didn’t make a lot of noise. And that your folks were away for the weekend.”
“Yeah, my folks,” Harve said. “Look, if we’re going to move in together we’re going to have to tell them. You know, about us.”
“We won’t be obvious,” Lucas said. “I mean, I’m not out yet and you certainly aren’t.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to hide it from them,” Harve said, kissing Lucas. “Besides, they’ll find out eventually.”
“We don’t have to worry about that right now,” Lucas said, kissing Harve. “We’ll make it through this. We just have to…”
There was a banging on the side of the trailer.
“Guys, calm down,” came the voice. Harve’s Grandmother who was visiting his folks. “Everybody already knows and we’re fine with it.”
Harve and Lucas froze and gawked at each other.
“You need to close the side window of this trailer,” she said. “It’s up against the open window of the house and we can hear everything. Here.”
She tapped on the front door of the trailer.
“I got a bag of cookies for you, thought you’d be hungry. They’re safer than cigarettes.”
“Uh, thanks Grandma,” Harve said.
“Yeah, thanks,” Lucas said, trying not to laugh.
“Get ‘em before the dogs and raccoons do,” she said as she walked away.
“Oh,” she called back as she opened the kitchen door. “You two guys invite me to the wedding.”
Lucas stared at Harve for a moment. “I think we’re out,” he said.
“Yeah,” Harve said. “To the whole neighborhood.”
The two of them laughed as Harve went to get the cookies.
Finally got back to reading some Edgar Allan Poe, focusing on reading some stories beyond the often-anthologized, constantly-adapted favorites on a list I made. I intend to read ALL his stories someday.
I read “Thou Art The Man,” title being a Biblical quote.
It involves Mr. Shuttleworthy who has vanished and is presumed murdered and Charles (“Old Charley”) Goodfellow (Name from Shakespeare?) who sets out to solve the case.
I had a few theories as to the identity of the culprit and what was going on (three of them in fact!) but I breezed past a telling clue early on in the story that would have explained everything!
The story was published in 1844 and there is some action to prove the killer’s identity which would not fly today but the earlier clue would be the sort of thing Ellery Queen and Edward D. Hoch would employ in their “fair play” detective stories. (Where the reader gets all the clues too!)
In reading about “Thou Art The Man,” I see it is regarded as an “inferior” detective story. Nothing could be further from the truth!
Poe was a master! This story proves it!
If he’d only lived to a ripe old age and written more mysteries; imagine what a fun collection that would be!
Here’s the list of the first stories on my Poe Project, marking off the ones I’ve read.
Progress Report, April 20th, 2024; Oscar Wilde’s Comma
From Jeff Baker
(Posting a bit late!)
Did the usual monthly and weekly flash fiction stories, piddled around and wrote on a few other things and plotted out a few others.
Wrote a Queer Sci-Fi Column for later down the schedule. (I like to have a nice backlog.)
Wrote a lot at the downtown library and tried to keep the cats off the keyboard at home!
Worked on “Love’s Not Time’s Fool,” the longer story I told myself I would finish before starting any other long story. I wrote a page or two this month as well as little paragraphs or sometimes just a line. Keep remembering the story about Oscar Wilde showing up at a cafe for lunch and he told a friend “I took a comma out.” When Wilde showed up for dinner he told his friend “I put the comma back in.”
Sometimes, the little stuff is progress too.
Actually wrote a poem here in the Library (where I’m writing this report) and grabbed a bunch of books to quote the Dewy Decimal numbers in the poem!
And earlier in the month, I went on a tear and did a mass submission one evening after reading that Ray Bradbury had suggested a writer should submit stories “to the least-likely market.” He told that to Dennis Etchison and Etchison sold a story in High School! So I submitted about six of my stories to various markets I scoped-out. Got a couple of rejections from that set but the rest are still out there.
“Don’t try to anticipate an editor’s needs, send it to the least likely market.” —Ray Bradbury.
And in related news, I found out that the Magazine of Fantasy And Science Fiction has not gone under, it’s still publishing! Hooray!!
Okay, I didn’t read Poe this time around! Didn’t read a lot of any fiction this month. Except for the usual; the Kaje Harper stories and the Flash Fiction Draw Challenge stories (not by me!) one by Kenny Blasco and another by E. H. Timms: “The Adventures of a Little Peppermill.” Excellent.
Got a copy of the wonderful “Graphic” collection of Flash comic book stories from the Library (“The Flash: A Celebration Of 75 Years.” Re-read the Golden Age Flash stories I’d already read (didn’t remember reading them all!) including “Origin Of the Flash,” by Gardner Fox, “The Rival Flash” by John Broome (actually the last new Jay Garrick Flash story published for a while!) as well as two others that were from the same issue in the 40s. “The Planet Of Sport” I had not read. Great fun!
From the Barry Allen Flash’s Silver age I re-read the origin story “Mystery Of the Human Thunderbolt” by Robert Kanigher (a classic comics origin without tragedy!) Gardner Fox’s classic “Flash Of Two Worlds,” and Jim Shooter’s “Superman’s Battle With the Flash.”
The story I picked up the collection to read was “Death Of An Immortal” by Len Wein. I’d heard about it before (most recently in 13th Dimension) and it didn’t disappoint! Loads of cosmic fun with the Earths One and Two Flashes.
Also read “Stupendous Triumph Of the Six Super Villains” by John Broome.
Two later stories were basically character pieces featuring the Wally West incarnation of the Flash: “Happy Birthday, Wally” by Mike Baron, and “The Unforgiving Minute” by William Messner-Loebs. The latter actually deals with “Impostor Syndrome.”
As for prose fiction, I read Fritz Leiber’s “Kreativity For Kats,” (I have a kitty who spills the water bowl!) and started in on a couple of novels: Terrie Farley Moran and Jessica Fletcher’s fun new “Murder She Wrote” book “Murder Backstage.” It has Emma McGill, need I say more? Also ‘Nathan Burgoine’s “Triad Magic,” which prompted me to try a recipe for the classic Canadian dish Poutine!
I read through some of J. Scott Coatsworth’s book on writing “Suck A Little Happy Juice,” which I had read when he was putting it together and had read the columns they are culled from before.
Read Veronica Henry’s story “Guilt Can Wilt the Sweetest Flower” in the new issue (Winter 2024) of Magazine Of Fantasy And Science Fiction. (Which is still publishing!!! Hooray!!!!!)
Re-Read H.P. Lovecraft’s “Music Of Erich Zahn.” (Friend of mine mentioned it and I hadn’t read it since the early 90s.) I could see where some of it was going but it was a nice little chiller!
And I read a bit of David Dosa M.D.’s “book “Making Rounds With Oscar.”
authorjeffbaker 