Interrupting Our Planned Friday Flash Fics Story for July 3, 2026. “H2O” by Jeff Baker.

Posted on July 3, 2026 by jeffbaker307
Photo by Quang Vuong on Pexels.com

A Friday Flash Fics Extra: “H20”

by Jeff Baker

Kenny Briscoe followed cautiously along as his husband who called himself Hank Jones strode down the sidewalk in Washington DC. There were some early-morning tourists but not as many as Kenny had expected as they walked East past the Lincoln Memorial towards the Washington Monument, a white strip against the blue sky.

He’d been to DC before, but this time it felt like being in an occupied city. Hank had reminded Kenny that he’d been in wartime Washington; “Back in the 1860s, 1940s, I wasn’t here around 1916.” Hank had said.

Hank looked like a medium-sized 40-something of indeterminate ethnic origin. People had guessed Latino or Asian. Actually he was from an otherdimensional world (“We get a great view of the Hyades,”) and was one of the “Underlords Of the Lahadnedjj,” which he said was basically a magical engineering degree and had been around for about 400 years.

Kenny looked like what he was; a medium-sized Black man also in his 40s. The pair had met, fallen for each other and moved in together, their lives becoming what Kenny had called “a Gay 1960s supernatural sitcom.” A while back, Hank had “Blended” their metabolisms so that Kenny would share his extended lifespan. This had the side effect of making both of them the same height and general size and giving Hank something of Kenny’s tan.

“Really politically incorrect,” Hank had laughed more than once.

Hundreds of years with the man you loved looked like a nice future.

But right now, Hank was pissed. He’d been watching the news reports from DC and had had enough. So when Kenny’s business took him to New York City, Hank arranged a side trip. He’d outlined what he was planning and asked Kenny to come along “Just in case it really poops me out and I need help back to the motel.”

Kenny said he wouldn’t have missed it for anything. Besides, he was curious since Hank had insisted they get there by commuter train, not by him using magic.

“There it is,” Hank said, stopping and pointing.

It took Kenny a moment to recognize the scene, familiar from hundreds of movies and TV shows; the long rectangle of water reflecting the blue (or cloudy) sky bracketed by the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument with the Capitol Building in the background. But the Reflecting Pool was a stagnant green somehow contrasting with the rows of trees on either side of the pool.

And the chain link fence surrounding the pool, several soldiers in fatigues stationed along the fence.

“This is ridiculous.” Kenny said.

Hank nodded.

“Let’s not get too close,” Kenny said.

“Around there,” Hank said pointing at the row of trees.

The two of them walked with the trees between them and the fenced-in pool, hank looking through the gaps at the pool.

“If that’s a pool, they ought to have Swamp Thing as a lifeguard.” Hank said.

Kenny snickered.

Hank stopped and ducked down, motioning for Kenny to do the same.

“This looks good,” Hank said as Kenny followed him into a clump of bushes. “Ought to keep us hidden, but what I’m gonna do is gonna make me kind of ovious.”

Hank stood up and cleared his throat. Then he began to recite:

“Water, Water, standing vile

Strewn here with greenish bile

Blue Sky Mirror now in damp

Manner of a fetid swamp

Water pristine, clear be found

Be brought here to this sacred ground

Replace this swamp which I do take…”

Here Hank paused almost thoughtfully and then finished.

“The world it reflects will be the one that we make!”

Hank had raised his hands as he whispered the last line and shouted out the last word. Kenny was sure he heard it echo off the marble buildings in the distance. He hoped none of the soldiers had heard it. Kenny couldn’t tell looking through the bushes, trees and fence around the pool. He ducked a little lower, realizing that wouldn’t do a lot of good to keep him hidden since Hank was standing there ramrod straight, arms spread above him like a cross between Charlton Heston in “The 10 Commandments” parting the Red Sea, and Aunt Clara from “Bewitched.” And he stood there for a long moment as nothing happened. Kenny could still see the greenish water, he thought he saw it glitter but that was just reflected sunlight. Wasn’t it?

Then there was a distant roar of wind and the breeze picked up. Hank grit his teeth, closed his eyes and clenched his fists. A sudden powerful gust of wind shook the trees and there was a blinding burst of light form the reflecting pool, along with a clap of thunder which all knocked Kenny to the ground. When Kenny’s eyes cleared from the flash, the first thing he noticed was Hank sitting on the ground breathing hard. Kenny sat up and put his hand on his husband’s shoulder.

“You okay?” Kenny asked.

Hank nodded and pointet through the trees. “Look.”

Kenny popped his head above the bushes where they were hiding. The soldiers around the pool were getting to their feet, some of them rubbing their eyes, some of them staring at the fence which had been knocked outward and was laying on the ground. One of the soldiers was crawling out from under one of the sections of fence. None of them seemed hurt.

The Reflecting Pool looked as clear and inviting as it ever had. The pool showing the clear blue sky ablve and the shimmering image of the Washington Monument looking like a great finger bordered by the edges of the pool.

“That oughta do it,” Hank said. “Whew!”

“Wow.” Kenny said.

“Good as new.” Hank said softly. “Now, let’s get out of here before they notice us and start asking questions.”

The two tried to walk out of the bushes as nonchalantly as they could in the opposite direction of the pool, then turned and headded in the direction of the National Mall.

“Are you all right?” Kenny asked.

Hank nodded. “A little winded. Just don’t ask me to zap us anywhere for a while. That business with the water pooped out my zapper for a little bit.”

“I can imagine,” Kenny said. “Hey, I thought you said you couldn’t transmute all that algae? Living matter and all?”

“I didn’t.” Hank said. I moved it. Popped it out of the pool and swapped it for a Reflecting Pool-sized chunk of water from the Tidal Basin.” Hank stopped and thought for a second. “About, oh, 2,300 and some feet.”

“Oh.” Kenny said.

They resumed walking and Hank started rambling.

“The trick is actually coordinating swapping out the pool gunk and replacing it and disintegrating that awful blue liner, which I had to do with a spoken spell because I don’t have the raw power to move all of that so I had to set up the program in my head and then invoke the power with the words and let that turn on the juice and…”

Kenny smiled. He loved all Hank’s Magic 101 lectures. But Kenny also knew he’d better watch for both of them when they crossed the Washington streets.

“Of course, I wasn’t totally sure it would all work the way I wanted,” Hank said. “But I said the stuff which pulled in the power and Whammo! It did the trick.”

The two of them were standing at a crosswalk waiting for the signal to change and Hank didn’t notice or care when a lady stared at him as he went on.

“I’m actually proud of that incantation.” Hank said. “I was going for a Stephen Vincent Benet feel for it and I think…”

They crossed the street and the lady crossed the other way as Hank and Kenny walked down the sidewalk.

They had reached the National Mall when a thought struck Kenny.

“Hey, one thing,” Kenny said. “Where did you send all that green water and algae? I mean, it’s not going to mess up the Tidal Basin, is it?”

“Didn’t send it there.” Hank said. “I mean, if it worked it should have…well.”

Hank stood there in the grass of the Mall and grinned at Kenny.

“If it worked you will hear a story on the news about them blaming the sewer system. Or backed-up toilets. Or enemy saboteurs. Do they even stillcall them that?” Hank said.

“Blaming?” Kenny asked. “Who?”

“You’ll know.” Hank said grinning again. “I popped all that green water and algae into the living room at Mar-A-Lago!”

The two men’s laughter could be heard across the National Mall on that bright, sunny day.

—end—

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Bear with me. The story for the prompt pic will be written and posted next week, but this one just breezed out of me. I’ve done a few stories that mirror the national mood but this one is just an obvious wish-fulfillment/revenge story. The kind magazine editors hate writers to send them, but I loved doing this one!

Previous stories about Hank and Kenny on this blog can be found through the link below, and this one first appeared on “RoMMantic Reads.” https://rommanticreads.wordpress.com/2023/06/17/jeff-baker-make-me-immortal-with-a-kiss/

Posted in Fantasy, Fiction, Friday Flash Fics, Friday Flash Fictions, Hank and Kenny, LGBT, Science Fantasy, Science Fiction, Short-Stories | Leave a comment

They’re Still My Favorite Martians: The Cleo Caper. Reviewed and Analyzed by Jeff Baker. (June 28, 2026)

Posted on June 29, 2026 by jeffbaker307

The cast, from the VCR release.

They’re Still My Favorite Martians: The Cleo Caper

Reviewed and analyzed by Jeff Baker

Back in the glorious heyday of Saturday Morning cartoons and shows for kids, there was a spate of cartoons based on live-action prime-time TV shows. “The Brady Bunch,” “Lassie,” “Star Trek” (a classic!) and “I Dream of Jeannie” (as “Jeannie,” with Mark Hamill!) were among the series that got the animation treatment, complete with laugh tracks for the comedies.

Forgotten in the mix was production company Filmation’s adaption of “My Favorite Martian.” The original had run for three seasons starting in 1963. The animated version; “My Favorite Martians,” ran for a single season on CBS in 1973-’74 and was haphazardly on the schedule during 1974-’75. Well-written and funny it was surprisingly not a hit, maybe due to competition on the other networks. In its original timeslot it proceeded the animated “Jeannie,” which was the top-rated daytime show on the network that season!

“My Favorite Martians” may have been re-run on some cable stations (there are plenty of You Tube videos of the show taken off what look like broadcasts more recent than 1973) and there were two VHS tape releases of two episodes each, but no DVD releases yet of its 16 episodes.

In those days 16 episodes was the norm for a Saturday Morning kid’s show. The episodes would be re-run for the rest of the season and more than likely over the next season.

But “My Favorite Martians” is worth a re-examination at least.

The set-up is simple and is recapped in the opening theme song; Uncle Martin and his teen-age nephew Andy (“Two friendly Martians,” with “special powers”) and their Martian dog Oakie-Doakie (Kids show, remember?) get stuck on Earth when their spaceship makes a crash landing. The only witnesses, reporter Tim O’Hara and his teen-age niece Katy O’Hara take them in, pass them off as family and are the only ones in on the Martian’s true identity while Martin tries to repair the spaceship and Andy enrolls in Katy’s High School.

And whatever possibly sad events caused Tim to be raising his niece are never touched upon.

The voice cast is just four actors: Jonathan Harris (as Martin), Lane Scheimer (as Andy), Jane Webb (as Katy) and Howard Morris (as Tim.) Morris and Webb also do the rest of the voices on the show. (Webb, by the way, was the first actress to play Sabrina the Teen-Age Witch voicing her and Aunt Hilda and Aunt Zelda in the original cartoon.)

And there’s a little of the feel of the earlier Sabrina/Archie cartoons (also Filmation productions) in “Martians,” except with sci-fi gimmicks and powers instead of magic, as well as many of the same sound effects.

In “The Cleo Caper,” Uncle Martin has built a time machine. Andy decides to use it to send Katy back in time to meet Cleopatra who they are studying in History class. Uncle Martin claims to have known her on one of his previous visits to Earth (“She was in love with me you know. Wanted me to rule Egypt with her.”)

Naturally, when the time machine brings Katy back it accidentally brings Cleopatra back with her.

Andy and Katy are enjoying Uncle Martin’s embarrassment about Cleo (she calls him “Snookums!”) so Andy zaps the time machine so it sends everybody to the garage. (Also where the space ship is usually hidden, by the way.) So when Uncle Martin thinks he’s returning Cleopatra to her own time, she winds up in the garage where Andy and Katy fix her up as “Miss Niles” (Clever!) renting another apartment nearby.

This brings us to the episode’s big plot hole, assuming Martin doesn’t regognize Cleo in modern clothes and glasses, his mind-reading powers should blow the gaffe. Presumably his “strict code of Martian ethics,” which are referenced in several other episodes, prevents him from reading Cleo, Andy or Katy’s minds. (Presumably after this episode, he learns better!)

There are some funny sequences at a dance as well as Cleo catching the eye of snoopy Detective Brennan and Martin begins to feel that Cleopatra has a connection to all this. He uses the time machine to send himself back to Ancient Egypt, and of course he doesn’t get there. This leads to one of the funniest lines in the series: “My Martian powers of deduction tell me that I must be in Ancient Egypt. But my Martian eyes tell me that I’m in the garage.” Delivered perfectly by Jonathan Harris.

This leads to a trip to the Museum to show Cleo what she, and maybe history, are missing. A clever bit of business very much in character for Uncle Martin and both the original and animated series.

Reportedly several storylines or scripts for this series were taken from ideas (or scripts) for the unproduced fourth season of the original series. And a couple of stories from the series were re-done for “My Favorite Martians.” “The Cleo Caper” was credited to writer Ben Starr, in the episode credits. The animated series actually improves on the original which had been tampered with by the network and had fallen into the cycle of “Martian thingie happens and Tim and Martin have a time limit to undo it or people will find out Martin’s a Martian.” This was very rarely used in “My Favorite Martians,” to the betterment of the show.

Also, in the original series pilot, landlady Mrs. Brown has two adolescent daughters who vanish from the show after a few episodes. The idea was for them to be regulars and watching the animated series gives us a feel of how “a bunch of teenage Earthlings” as TV Guide’s 1973 Fall Preview issue put it, would have worked on the show. In this animated series the kids are put to the best use, giving it the feel of the Sabrina/Archie cartoons with a sci-fi twist. (More on this in a future installment.)

The comedy (despite the annoying laugh track) plays pretty well with some jokes given a sophisticated twist that belies that this was essentially a kid’s show. And the Martian gimmicks are not over-used (and we do see the famous raising antenna!)

All-in-all, a charming half-hour which holds up well some 53 years later.

Now if only that magical civilization on Mars was real.

We could sure use some help now.

—end—

Author’s note: While it lasts, here’s a link to the You Tube posting of the episode. Enjoy! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9inCaS2QODA&t=1069s

Posted in Reviews, Science Fantasy, Science Fiction, Television, They're Still My Favorite Martians | Leave a comment

Rainbow Snippets: “Who Wouldn’t Go,” from Mike Mayak. June 28, 2026.

Posted on June 28, 2026 by jeffbaker307

Every week at Rainbow Snippets https://www.facebook.com/groups/RainbowSnippets we post six lines from a work of ours, a work in progress or a work of someone else’s that has LGBT characters.

Here’s something Christmassy that some of my readers could identify with from my recent flash fiction story “Who Wouldn’t Go.” (as by Mike Mayak) https://authorjeffbaker.com/2026/06/20/who-wouldnt-go-friday-flash-fics-for-june-19-2026-from-jeff-baker-june-20-2026/ Happily ensconced couple Jim and Kevin have forund a plastic bag with unused soap while cleaning up the house…

“Sleepy Bear Motel, Albuquerque, New Mexico.” Jim read from the wrapper, which depicted a smiling bear in a nightshirt sleepwalking. Jim was smiling at the memories.

“We’ve got a bag full of soap, how come we never use any of it?” Kevin asked.

“We’re lazy.” Jim said. “We stuffed the boxful of junk in the back of the closet, remember? We were tidying up the house a few years ago? Yeah, there’s a closet joke in there somewhere?”

Kevin laughed. “I guess we didn’t want to use them up,” he said. He pulled out an unwrapped bar of soap and held it up. “Here’s one for you. From a few Christmases ago.”

A little more than six lines, but still nice! Read the rest of the story for the Christmas soap!

—-jeff

Posted in LGBT, Rainbow Snippets | Leave a comment

Digging Up Acusilaus. Friday Flash Fics from Mike Mayak (Jeff Baker) for June 26, 2026.

Posted on June 26, 2026 by jeffbaker307

Acusilaus

by Mike Mayak

Waking up in the middle of the night to see a pale, glowing man standing by your bed ought to terrify you.

But I should start at the beginning.

My name is Mark Kammopolis. I’m a Greek-American Archeologist working on one of the smaller Greek islands. I actually speek Greek which is part of how I got the job. My degrees in Anthropology, Archeology and History helped too.

My main co-worker, Giorgos Zografakis and a small crew were excavating what we believed was a villa on the island. We found the usual things; Crockery, coins and then we found a skeleton. Intact. And with his wrists and legs shackled.

We figured he (yes, he) had been buried maybe 2300 years before. We carefully removed him and examined him in the mobile lab we had on the island. Since we couldn’t just call him “The Skeleton.” somebody started calling him “Acusilaus,” after an ancient Greek writer.

“Obviously, this man was a slave,” Giorgos said. “Besides the chains, look at the bones. Stooped posture, fracture. A life of hard labor.” He sighed. “We have it so lucky.”

Our analysis showed our Acusilaus was about thirty when he died.

We took our pictures and our samples and then we were ready to return him to his resting place when I said “Hold it.” (In English.)

Giorgos always loved it when I used American expressions.

“Get me something to cut these chains off,” I said, in Greek this time. “I’m sure Acusilaus here had enough of chains in life. He shouldn’t be wearing them in death.”

It took us longer to cut the shackles off than it did to re-bury the now unchained bones.

We were staying at a beachfront hotel in the village a short boat ride away.

That night I awoke alone in my room to a blue glow. There was a feeling in the room that I was dreaming but was wide awake.

The source of the glow was a young man standing at my bedside wearing a tunic of ancient times, hair unkempt and thinning but looking very young and smiling broadly. When he spoke it was in strangely-accented Greek which I somehow understood perfectly.

“It does not make any difference at this late date,” said the ghost (as I assumed it was.) “But I am here to repay your kindness to me, one of the only kindnesses I ever received.”

I should have asked Acusilaus many questions about the villa, his life and his times but I just lay there dazed.

“My foolish Master fell drunkenly into the ocean and drowned not long after my death and unceremonius burial,” the ghost said. “I know the treasure you seek. Stand at my grave and walk twenty-six paces towards the setting Sun and you will find the entrance to my Master’s Villa. But walk fifty paces in the same direction and stop and dig deep. There you will find jars of gold coin my Master did not get to spend before his death of too much water and wine. Coin he buried where he believed no one would find it.”

I could see the hotel TV behind the ghost through the ghost.

“And now I go to the Place of Shades to resume my endless slumber,” said the ghost with a bow. Then he looked up and grinned. “Well, almost endless.”

Then he was gone but I was not sure whether he had vanished or I had merely awakened.

The next day at the dig I followed the directions to the front of the villa and we began excavating. We did find what was left of the building and pictures and an article wound up in an Archeological journal.

Acusilaus’ shackles are on display in the little museum in the village we stayed at, along with a smaller article and pictures of the site.

But I didn’t even bother looking for the gold. The ghost had doubtless slept through the earthquakes that had split the island in two and crumbled its Western side into the ocean a millennium ago. Any measuring paces I tried in that direction from the villa would have sent me to the ocean floor possibly to join Acusilaus’ Master.

—end—

Posted in Fantasy, Fiction, Friday Flash Fics, Friday Flash Fictions, Ghost Story, Short-Stories | Leave a comment

Progress Report for May/June 2026, from Jeff Baker. (June 21, 2026)

Posted on June 21, 2026 by jeffbaker307

As usual, I wrote the weekly and monthly flash fictions. I posted my tenth anniversary Friday Flash Fiction story (which I’d written a couple of months earlier) and gave myself a break for a couple of weeks on the Friday stories.

Sometimes I make it to doing the four pages a day, sometimes it’s close to four, sometimes I just write a page or so and sometimes I slack off. Oh well, it’s progress! I’m amazed I’m still keeping at it!

I am still on a novella/novelette jag. Worked on two of them I’d started earlier and left off. One from an idea I had almost fifty years ago, and had used the characters in a couple of flash fiction stories.

Started a paranormal Gay romance novellette/novella (there are markets for them!) with a character I’ve written about before (he’s Bi.)

Worked on a novella (fourth different one mentioned here!) that I’ve been working on for a couple of months or so. Getting close to the end, just have to tie some of the sections together.

Worked on a new mystery short-story (not a novella!)

Wrote a couple of reviews and the QueerSciFi Column. I don’t have a nice backing of four or five QSF columns at the ready this time.

But the big writing news is I finally replaced my old laptop! It’s a delight to not have to go to the page where I typed-out numbers (12345…) and symbols (!@#$%…) and paste them elsewhere!

It makes me feel spoiled. Even if this new one is a bit selective with spellcheck and I have to do the spellcheck manually. No big. I was relying too much on the automatic thingie anyway.

That’s about it for now!

—-jeff baker, June 21, 2026.

Posted in Progress Reports, Writing | Leave a comment

Reading Report May/June 2026 from Jeff Baker. (June 21, 2026)

Posted on June 21, 2026 by jeffbaker307

Again, I probably did more writing than reading this period, and my notes are spread over two (or three!) spiral bound notebooks so I can’t vouch for the 100% accuracy this month. But hey, I’m probably reading more than the average person is. Reading rates have gone down in the last decade.

Oh, well. As Mort Sahl used to say: Onward!

For Arthur Conan Doyle’s May 22nd birthday, I read one of his Brigadier Gerard stories. “How The Brigadier Played For A Kingdom March 1813.” Doyle was a master storyteller and his spinner of tales about military service to Napoleon does not gloos over the realities of war even through the heroism. He explains why he cannot look upon red on white anymore and that those are tales he will not tell.

I read one of these every year on Doyle’s birthday, or in this case the early morning after his birthday.

Bumming through Arthur Conan Doyle’s “The Magic Door,” a book he wrote about reading. Basically Doyle takes the reader by the hand and leads him on an ebulant tour of his bookshelves. It’s about a century before all those Book Tube videos that essentially do the same thing. It’s a fun book to dip into, from one of my favorite writers. (Big surprise! Doyle was more of a fan of Julian Hawthorne’s work than of his famous father Nathaniel Hawthorne! Same here, actually!)

Doyle is plain old fun and my Christmas present from the Kitties was Doyle’s book “Tales Of Pirates and Blue-Water,” collecting sea and pirate stories including several about Doyle’s Pirate Captain Sharkey. Read “Captain Sharkey; How The Governor Of Saint Kitt’s Came Home.” Loads of fun and thrills, and a mystery too!

Reading stories in a collection for a QSF column, which I will talk about in said column.

Started reading Theodore Sturgeon’s story “The Perfect Host.” Been ordering the Collected Stories of Sturgeon,, which I thought would be pricy. I found a couple of the books online for $3 apice! Others for a little more.

Got a copy of “Wish Upon A Crime” (edited by Michael Bracken and Stacy Woodson. Level Best Books 2026.) Crime fiction inspired by fairy tales. Several writer friends of mine have stories in this book. So far, I’ve read:

“Goldilocks And the Three Bears” by John Floyd. LOL!

“Three Billy Goats Gruff” by Michael Bracken.” Great fun.

“King O’ the Cats” by David Dean. An effective crime/horror tale!

Started reading Madeline Miller’s novel “The Song Of Achilles.” A contemporary Gay take on Greek Mythology (which was pretty Gay to start with!)

In honor of the passing of writer Jane Yolen I read stories from her collection “Sister Emily’s Lightship.” Read “The Gift Of the Magicians, With Apologies To You-Know-Who.” “The Singer And the Song,” and “Salvage.”

Of course, I read the usual online stories by E.H. Timms and Kaje Harper.th the to bumps

And I read Nathanial Hawthorne’s “My Kinsman Major Molineux.” It plays like a riff (or a precursor, not sure which he wrote first!) on his own “Young Goodman Brown,” only without a hint of the supernatural. Unless, the fellow with the two bumps on his head is who I think he might be…

Also read Hawthorne’s preface to his collection “Twice-Told-Tales.” Self-depricating and very charming!

The Hawthorne selections from “The Portable Nathaniel Hawthorne.” I love those “Portable” collections from The Viking Portable Library and I practically collect them!

To the extent, that I looked up a couple of publication dates and went off on a tangent reading up about more of the “Portable” books!

So many books, so little time!

—-jeff baker, june 21st, 2026.

Posted in Arthur Conan Doyle, Books, E. H. Timms, Fairy Tale, Jane Yolen, John M. Floyd, Kaje Harper, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Reading, Reading Report, Short-Stories, Theodore Sturgeon | Leave a comment

“Who Wouldn’t Go?” Friday Flash Fics For June 19, 2026 from Jeff Baker. (June 20, 2026.)

Posted on June 20, 2026 by jeffbaker307

Who Wouldn’t Go?

By Jeff Baker

“Hey! Look at this!” Jim said, pulling the small plastic baggie out of the small cardboard box box from the closet.

“Let me see,” Kevin said.

He took the clear bag, one of those little sandwich bags that re-seals, that contained what looked like several small bars of soap. Some in colorful paper wrappers.

“Hotel soap, I bet.” Jim said.

“Wow!” Kevin said. “I haven’t seen these in years!” He pulled a bar out and showed Jim the wrapper.

“Sleepy Bear Motel, Albuquerque, New Mexico.” Jim read from the wrapper, which depicted a smiling bear in a nightshirt sleepwalking. Jim was smiling at the memories.

“We’ve got a bag full of soap, how come we never use any of it?” Kevin asked.

“We’re lazy.” Jim said. “We stuffed the boxful of junk in the back of the closet, remember? We were tidying up the house a few years ago? Yeah, there’s a closet joke in there somewhere?”

Kevin laughed. “I guess we didn’t want to use them up,” he said. He pulled out an unwrapped bar of soap and held it up. “Here’s one for you. From a few Christmases ago.”

The little bar of soap was cream colored with three words in red on the front:

HO!

HO!

HO!

“Oh, man!” Jim said. “Mom and Dad gave us this one.”

“That first Christmas after I moved in, remember?” Kevin said.

“I remember.” Jim said, breaking out into a broad grin. “You were so worried!”

“Oh, yeah.” Kevin said. “I was kind of paranoid.”

“Yeah. As soon as we were driving back home you started asking ‘Do they know? Do they know?’” Jim said, trying not to laugh.

“I had reason to be paranoid,” Kevin said.

“I can’t say I blame you.” Jim said. “I mean, we didn’t tell them the whole story of how we met.”

“Yeah,” Kevin said. “Just that we met in a bar and we hit it off. That worked.”

“Didn’t tell Mom and Dad that I’d been trashed out of my mind and I hit on you because the bartender told me you were…well…”

“Hustling.” Kevin said with another smile.

“Yeah, didn’t tell them that.” Jim said. They both laughed.

Jim sorted through the box some more.

“I’ll just consider myself lucky that I was always really careful.” Kevin said, as he pulled out an old razor from the box.

“Yes.” Jim said. He’d been worried when they’d gotten together.

“Oh, just imagine telling your folks; ‘Hey Mom, Dad. This is my hustler boyfriend Kevin. We met when I tried to hit on him when I was drunk at a bar and he drove me home in my car and I let him sack out in my bed and we just slept and he didn’t charge me.’” Kevin said.

They laughed again.

“And you didn’t have a place to stay and I didn’t have to work that next day so you stayed and we talked…” Jim said.

“And kissed a little.” Kevin said, smiling with the memory.

“And one thing left to another and you never left.” Jim said.

“And I got my first legitimate job in a while.” Kevin said. “Didn’t make as much but probably safer.”

Yeah.” Jim said. “You know, I’m betting Mom and Dad wouldn’t have been that shocked if they’d found out you’d been…”

“Ho, ho, hoing?” Kevin said with a wicked grin, holding up the soap.

“Right.” Jim said snickering.

“This was what? Thirty-six Christmases ago?” Kevin asked.

“Goin’ on forty.” Jim said, rubbing his bald spot, fringed with grey.

The two men shuffled stuff around in the box. A bunch of packets of bath soap that had been Jim’s Mom’s. Lipstick. Stuff they couldn’t identify.

“Hey, the cleanout is a good idea.” Kevin said. “What do you want to do with all this stuff?”

The two of them stared at each other for a moment.

“Finish it later,” they said together. Then they laughed.

“Finishing each other’s sentences,” Kevin said as they slid the box back into the corner of the hall closet.

“And putting off what we can do today ‘till next year.” Jim said. They helped each other up and shut the closet door.

Kevin held up the bag of soaps. “This is going in the bathroom cabinet,” he said. “We need to get some use out of them.”

Jim pulled out the Christmas soap. “And use this one first.”

The two of them stood there and kissed.

“Merry Christmas,” Kevin said as they walked towards the bathroom.

“It’s still June,” Jim said.

“Not according to the soap.” Kevin said.

—end—

Posted in Fiction, Friday Flash Fics, Friday Flash Fictions, LGBT, Romance, Short-Stories | Leave a comment

Mystery! Stables! And a Banana Or Two! Flash Fiction Draw Challenge Results For June, 2026! (June 15, 2026)

Posted on June 14, 2026 by jeffbaker307

Photo by – landsmann – on Pexels.com

Hi, I’m Mike, AKA Jeff Baker.

The draws for the June 2026 Flash Fiction Draw Challenge were:

A Mystery

Involving A Bunch Of Bananas

Set in A Stable

E. H. Timms wrote: “Gone With The Moon” https://thinkingthinking123.blogspot.com/2026/06/flash-fic-challenge-gone-with-moon.html

And I wrote: “Storehouse” https://authorjeffbaker.com/2026/06/10/storehouse-flash-fiction-draw-challenge-story-as-by-mike-mayak-for-june-2026-june-10-2026/

Thanks for participating, and for reading and remember it’s never too late to write your own story, post it in the comments and I’ll link it here.

We’ll be back with another draw on July 6th, 2026!

Thanks again for reading and writing!

——mike

Posted in E. H. Timms, Fiction, Monthly Flash Fiction Draw Challenge, Mystery, Short-Stories | Leave a comment

“Fog.” Friday Flash Fics from Jeff Baker for June 12, 2026.

Posted on June 12, 2026 by jeffbaker307

Fog

by Jeff Baker

“Look out there,” the father said. “Can you see it?”

“See what?” his son replied. He was sixteen. “I can’t even see across the street because of this fog.”

“Yes, I know,” said the father.

“Just glad we’re inside,” the son said. “That fog came out of nowhere.”

“Yes, I know,” the father said. “But this is no ordinary fog. Watch this.”

The father pulled out his cellphone and snapped a picture. He showed it to his son.

In the picture, the street scene was bright and clear. Broad daylight. Tall buildings rising up from downtown in the background. Not a trace of fog.

“Hey, that’s cool!” the son said. “How’d you do that?”

“I didn’t,” the father said. “Try it yourself.”

He handed the cellphone to his son who flipped through the pictures then took one of the swirling fog himself.

“No fog,” the son said staring at the new picture. “That’s lowkey weird.”

“Not everybody can see the fog,” the father said. “People go through the day not realizing the fog is there.”

“Wow.” the son said.

“Fog covers,” the father said. “It hides. But if you see the fog you know that there is something hidden. Maybe by apathy or ignorance. Even willful ignorance.”

“Ignorance,” the son said. “Of what?”

“Current events,” the father said. “Turmoil. This is the 250th year of this country. There is danger all around the world and people are retreating into their own fog but only some other people can see it.”

The father sighed.

“People listen or look at the news they want to hear. What they want to believe,” the father said. “And that is a major first step in the undoing of everything. This fog doesn’t just hide, it announces to people that the ones who can’t see or won’t see the fog are lost in it.”

“So, what can we do?” the son asked.

“We can stand up,” the father said. “Stand for truth and honesty. Even in a world where the word ‘truth’ is distorted and misused. Stand up to help the downtrodden, the disabled, the disadvantaged. For those who haven’t been as lucky as we have.”

The son nodded, grim-faced.

“In ‘A Christmas Carol,’ Dickens has the Ghost Of Christmas Present show Scrooge two figures and tells him; ‘This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, but most of all, beware this boy.’”

The father sighed again.

“The world is at war and doesn’t know it,” he said.

The father and son stood there at the window and watched the fog.

—end—

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Thanks for reading! Nice to be back! —-jeff

Posted in Fiction, Friday Flash Fics, Friday Flash Fictions, Short-Stories | Leave a comment

“Storehouse.” Flash Fiction Draw Challenge Story (as by Mike Mayak) For June, 2026. (June 10, 2026.)

Posted on June 10, 2026 by jeffbaker307

Storehouse

by Mike Mayak

The First Lord of Apes stared at the members of the Council of Primates assembled there in the stable. Chimps, Gorillas, Orangutans. The entire gamut of Primtes. They listened to the First Lord of Apes because he was bigger than they were.

He paced back and forth in front of the trough of hay as he spoke.

“I have called you all here because someone has robbed the Shared Storehouse. Taken without asking.”

“What was taken,” the Oldest Orangutan asked. “A jar of your precious grubs?”

There was general laughter from the assembled groups and their leaders. Representatives rarely traveled alone, and they generally regarded the storehouse as being for the First Lord of Apes’ private use unless you groveled.

The First Lord of Apes glared. He did not like being laughed at, even though the chimps would laugh at anything.

“This is a serious matter,” the First Lord of Apes said. “The last bunch of bananas was stolen. A big bunch.”

The chimps began to titter. The Prince of Chimps raised a hand.

“Great Sir,” the Prince of Chimps asked. “You do know that bananas grow wild in the trees near the river?”

“And on the trees down by the lake!” Laughed the other chimps. “And in the trees by the road!”

The first Lord of Apes growled. He suspected the chimps of the thievery. By Hanuman, he suspected everybody. But the chimps would have brazenly brought the banana peels to throw at him, had they been guilty.

“We shall know,” said Oldest Orangutan, “when we find what manner of strength was used to batter open the storeroom door. We have all seen it, how thick it is. One of the larger primates or a group of the smaller ones could have forced their way in.” He eyed the chimps suspiciously.

“The doors were not damaged,” the First Lord of Apes said. “The intricate system of locks I devised were undone and opened.”

There was a murmur among the primates. Even the chimps were subdued in wonder.

“I shall now ask the heads of each group in the Council in turn what they know of the theft.” The First Lord of Apes narrowed his eyes. “And who they suspect.”

“It sounds to me that what was stolen was your pride,” said the Chief of the Gorillas.

“Yes, your secure storehouse is not as secure as you said it was,” said the Prime Minister of the Monkeys. “Is it?”

The Queen of the Rhesus Monkeys stood up with all her dignity.

“We may need a new leader,” she said.

At this statement, chaos erupted in the stable. Chittering, yelling and growling. The First Lord of the Apes doing most of the yelling. The chimps jumping up and down, one of them swinging from the rafters of the stable, another rolling in the trough of hay. An orangutan was arguing with the Queen of the Rhesus Monkeys whose bodyguards shifted uncomfortably on their feet and looked from side to side. A clump of feces flew through the air over the heads of the assembly. One of the monkeys was screaming for order.

Far from the stable, in the thick branches of an ancient tree, hidden from sight, a primate sat and gorged himself on the stolen bananas. Eating them all at once might make him sick. He didn’t care.

He told himself he was celebrating his stealth and dexterity which enabled him to raid the storehouse the First Lord of Apes believed to be impregnable. The storeroom the lithe, nearly-hairless primate would now consider to be his as well.

He smiled. The others considered his kind to be beneath their notice. He finished off the last banana and headed on his way.

He was Man.

—end—

The draws for the June 2026 Flash Fiction Draw Challenge were: A Mystery, set in a Stable involving a Bunch of Bananas. I must have been channeling Rudyard Kipling a little bit when this came out of me. Hope you liked it! —-mike

Posted in Fiction, Monthly Flash Fiction Draw Challenge, Short-Stories | Leave a comment