J. Scott Coatsworth’s “The Death Bringer” Releases This Week:

Posted on September 17, 2024 by jeffbaker307

My friend J. Scott Coatsworth is releasing his latest novel “The Death Bringer.”

It’s the fourth book in the Tharassas Cycle that began with…but maybe I’d better let Scott talk about it:

AIK WILL NEVER BE THE SAME… AND NEITHER WILL HIS WORLD

War is coming. Aik has become the Progenitor, and the Seed Mother has released him to transform the world for her alien brood. Silya and Raven, Aik’s former friends, are the only ones who can save him and the world. But what if the cure is worse than the invasion?

As Silya rushes to prepare Gullton for the battle to come, she’s determined to save as many people as she can. But new crises emerge that demand her attention.

Raven has his own hands full, keeping the dragon-like verent in line, while helping Silya to save the world. But what if the only way to do so is to sacrifice Aik, the man that he loves?

It’s the end of the world … or could it be the start of something new?

Series Blurb:

The Tharassas Cycle is a four book sci-fantasy series set on the recently colonized world of Tharassas. When humans first arrived on planet, they thought they were alone until the hencha mind made itself known. But now a new threat has arisen to challenge both humankind and their new allies on this alien world.

Non-Exclusive Excerpt:

Chapter One
Regroup

He floated, weightless and naked, surrounded by a reddish light and suspended in fluid. Something connected to his mouth and wrapped around his head, like a lover’s embrace.

He used to have a name. He searched his mind for some clue to his identity. I exist, so I must be someone. Or something.

That made sense, but got him no closer to an answer. He blinked. Who am I?

There was no immediate reply.

He lifted his hand. It was encased in metal. The gauntlet. That much he remembered, though it meant nothing to him. Except… it seemed different, somehow. Thinner.

He moved his arms in the liquid, and it sparkled around him where his shifting disturbed it. The metal extended down his wrist and along his forearm, like before, but now it went farther, around his elbow and up his bicep. He touched it with his free hand.

I can feel it. It was as if the metal had become a part of him, his nerves growing through it. He held out his metallic hand and flexed his fingers. What is it?

We call it uurcaa. It’s a sacred metal—it will protect you, and if your host dies, it will collect and save your soul. He could feel the emotions she held back from him. It is the last of its kind from our homeworld. Like us.

He blinked. Then what am I?

You are my son, Iihil. The progenitor, the one who has come before and the first of many more like you. The voice was deep and comforting.

Mother. Warmth infused him at her voice, and an eagerness to please her.

Still, something wasn’t right. He was more than that. He searched his mind, running up against that stubborn blankness. Somewhere beyond it were the answers he needed.

He’d been someone else. Before.

Who was I? Memories of a face—dark hair, intense eyes that nevertheless twinkled at him. Raven.

It came flooding back to him. His mother. His life in Gullton. Training to be a guard and meeting Raven for the first time. My name is Aik.

He reached for the mask that covered his face. It was suffocating. Something was stuck in his throat, and he coughed hard, trying to force it out, whipping around and causing the liquid around him to flash red in alarm.

Calm yourself. The voice was as thick and heavy as an ix hide, and just as soft and warm.

Aik pushed back. What are you doing to me? I don’t want this! Let me out! He thrashed about, trying to force his way through the suffocating liquid. The metal crept up his shoulder. If it covered all of him, he would be lost.

Calm yourself! It was more insistent this time.

Aik stiffened as an enforced lethargy settled over him. He lost control of his limbs, falling still in his floating prison. The voice pressed against his mind. You’re safe. Be calm, my little one.

He closed his eyes and thought of Raven, trying to stay fixed on that face. I can’t let myself forget again.

Then the world around him dissolved, and he was swept up in a torrent of memories that weren’t his own.

Universal Buy Link:

The Death Bringer

Author Bio:

Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.

He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, Liminal Fiction, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and was the committee chair for the Indie Authors Committee at the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA) for almost three years..

Author Website: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworth/

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworthauthor

Author Mastodon: https://mastodon.otherworldsink.com/@jscottcoatsworth

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jscottcoatsworth/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8392709.J_Scott_Coatsworth

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Author Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/J.-Scott-Coatsworth/e/B011AFO4OQ

Posted in Action/Adventure, Books, Fantasy, Fiction, J. Scott Coatsworth, LGBT, Science Fiction, Tharassas Cycle, The Death Bringer | Leave a comment

Rainbow Snippets and “The Simple Life,” from Jeff Baker. September 15, 2024.

Posted on September 15, 2024 by jeffbaker307
Photo by Alexander Grey on Pexels.com

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: https://www.facebook.com/groups/963484217054974

Here are a few longer snippets from a story I wrote (and re-wrote for various markets; it was actually erotica at one time!) called “The Simple Life.” Written as by “Skip Hanford.” Ronnie and T. J. are happily ensconced on T. J.’s family farm where they are raising experimental crops that will thrive in all kinds of weather (they hope!) But it all may be changed by dire news…

One more note; these characters first appeared in a flash fiction story I wrote before I did the longer story. https://authorjeffbaker.com/2018/03/09/a-stop-at-the-neighborhood-cafe-for-friday-flash-fics-march-9-2018-by-jeff-baker/ Then I did another flash story set in the same world. Enjoy “The Simple Life.”

It happened when they were in bed. Ronnie had gotten up to use the bathroom and when he climbed back in bed, T. J. had mumbled something and rolled over. Ronnie, half-asleep, had moved closer as T. J. started to snore. A moment later they heard the low rumble and felt a shudder. T .J. had sat up and stared around the darkened house. Earthquake, he thought.

“Fracking,” Ronnie muttered, as he pulled in closer to T. J. They were both asleep when the streetlight outside flickered out.

That was what somebody later called “the first volley.”

Ominous. Here’s Ronnie and T. J. checking the news—while they can…

“Okay, phone’s on. See what you want me to…” T. J.’s voice trailed off as he scrolled through his messages. After a few moments, he breathed out “Jesus Christ…”

“Yeah,” Ronnie said. “Wichita’s gone. That was the one we felt. “L. A. was hit too.”

“My God, my God, my God…” T. J. said. Hey! We’ve got e-mail!”

“Yeah, I know,” Ronnie said. “Wait, how do we…”

“How do we still get stuff like this?” T. J. asked. “They didn’t get everything, but I bet it won’t last long. Hey, check for something else. Your news feed. Local news. Anything.”

Okay, just a little more, and a little more than six lines…

After a few moments, Ronnie looked up. “I can’t get on Facebook,” he held up his phone “but I found this.”

It was a video of a news broadcast from a local station, they weren’t sure where. The newscaster looked haggard and pale.

“If you are just joining us, the news, as far as we know is the following: at 2:24 Eastern time, several explosive devices went off in this country, including one in Los Angeles, one outside Washington D.C. and one in Wichita, Kansas. These devices were not, repeat were not nuclear. At the same time across the world, similar devices exploded in Moscow, London and the United Arab Emirates. The President of the United States is aboard Air Force One at this hour, and at last report, had been in contact with surviving world leaders…”

“Surviving,” T. J. breathed. “My God!”

And on that ominous note, I will say farewell for now! I’m going be a little busy the next few months so my snippeting will be more occasional than weekly, but it’s still fun! (Besides, I’m running out of stories!)

Thanks for reading and I’ll see you all soon!

——-jeff

Posted in LGBT, Rainbow Snippets, Science Fiction | 4 Comments

Flash Fiction Draw Challenge For September 2024. A Little Costume Shop Of Horrors And A Dumpster Too! From Mike Mayak, September 15, 2024.

Posted on September 15, 2024 by jeffbaker307

September 16th, 2024

I’m Mike, alias Jeff Baker.

The Draws for the September Flash Fiction Draw Challenge were;

A Horror Story

Set in a Costume Shop

Involving a Dumpster

E. H. Timms wrote “(Don’t) Mind the Dumpster” https://thinkingthinking123.blogspot.com/2024/09/flash-fic-challenge-dont-mind-dumpster.html

And I wrote “The Scar Of the Phoenix.” https://authorjeffbaker.com/2024/09/11/the-scar-of-the-phoenix-september-2024-flash-fiction-draw-challenge-story-by-mike-mayak-from-jeff-baker-september-11-2024/

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 October 6th (Sunday this time, my schedule’s kinda wonky!) See you then! —–mike

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

Who Has Seen The Wind? Friday Flash Fics by Jeff Baker. Friday September 13th, 2024.

Posted on September 13, 2024 by jeffbaker307

Who Has Seen the Wind?

By Jeff Baker

“Yeow!” Eddie said as they pulled the city truck up to the big parking lot.

“Yeah,” Mack said, the older man shaking his head.

The old grocery store was used for a thrift shop but not today. The wind that had blown through had knocked the big tree to one side into the parking lot and had totaled the electrical pole on the corner. A crew from the city had shut down the power last night and rolled up the wire which was hanging on a smaller tree that was still standing.

“Ironic they turned to power off,” Mack said. “The power to this area stayed on. Not so in much of the south side.”

“Look at this,” Eddie said, staring down the street. “It’s like there’s a line. Wrecked stuff on one side and the other side looks ready to open for business.”

“Yeah, but nobody’s opening here today with the power out and the street closed.” Mack said as they got out of the truck.

“That’s the way life is, I guess,” Eddie said. “Sometimes the storm hits you sometimes it hits across the street.”

“Never take things for granted,” Mack said.”

“Right.” Eddie said.

“Okay,” Mack grinned. “Let’s get at that tree so things can open up again.”

—end—

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

The Scar Of the Phoenix. September 2024 Flash Fiction Draw Challenge Story by Mike Mayak, from Jeff Baker. (September 11, 2024)

Posted on September 11, 2024 by jeffbaker307

The Scar of the Phoenix

by Mike Mayak

AUTHOR’S NOTE: The draws for the September 2024 Flash Fiction Draw Challenge were: A Horror Story, set in a Costume Shop, involving a Dumpster. Here’s mine.—-mike

The sign on the little downtown shop read simply: “Margolis’ Costumes.” Scrunched in between a key shop and a closed-down garage it was part of a row in an old brick building that dated back to the thirties at least.

Joey Margolis and Matt Wieks were crouched over in the cramped back room going through boxes of old theatrical costumes Joey’s Aunt (who owned the shop) had bought in a blind lot at auction. So far they hadn’t found anything that would have been out-of place at the thrift shop a few blocks away, including a suit that looked like it had stepped out of the year 1975.

Joey glanced around the room, glad his Aunt paid the two of them to do stuff like this. They were both twentysomethings who’d moved into a cramped apartment not much bigger than this back room. They needed the money.

“Hey, look at this!” Joey had pulled out a long, flowered dress that looked like it belonged in 1890. It was out of a separate and very dusty box that had been in the lot.

“That’s from that play your Aunt talked about,” Matt said. “Pretty rare stuff.”

“I can’t believe she’s thinking about getting rid of it,” Joey said, holding the dress next to him. “She’s funny that way. Hey, give me a minute or two, okay?”

Joey stepped into the next room with the dress while Matt inspected the box. On the outside was a printed label: THE SCAR OF THE PHOENIX. Original Production, 1911. Besford Theater.

Matt rummaged through the clothes, pulling out an old red derby which he set to one side. Then searched the name on his smartphone.

“Hey, Joey!” Matt called out. “I think I know why this stuff creeps your Aunt out. The original production lasted one night after one of the actors killed another one during the first performance. Yeow! Wasn’t in the script.”

Matt scrolled down and read some more.

“Hey get this; during a revival of the play in 1947 one of the cast went after her fellow cast members with a knife during dress rehearsal. They subdued her and canceled the performance. The guy who wrote the play, Chambre, was a notorious Occultist who died under mysterious circumstances and the play is believed to be cursed.”

He looked up and whistled. Joey was standing there in the dress. He wasn’t doing full on drag with wig or makeup but the dress did something for him.

“Nice!” Matt said. Joey had done an amateur drag show at a local club the night when he and Matt had first made out. That had been their sophomore year of College. They were still taking classes but hadn’t graduated. They were “an item” if not officially a couple.

“Glad you like it,” Joey said. The voice somehow wasn’t quite his, it spoke of an earlier time and ancient things that had not all crumbled to dust. “I serve the Ravager. Dark Dolggna and the Low One.”

Joey advanced on Matt. He was holding a screwdriver like a knife. The point looked dangerous.

Joey swiped at Matt barely missing him.

“Hey, what the hell?” Matt yelled. Joey stabbed at him again cutting Matt’s shirt and drawing blood from his shoulder. There was a look in Joey’s eyes that wasn’t Joey.

“You will be for the Servitor an entry into greatness.”

“Joey!” Matt yelled as Joey moved in. But Matt had dated biker guys, he aimed a kick at Joey’s crotch doubling him over. Matt quickly pushed Joey down on the ground, knocked the screwdriver away and jumped on top of him. He clutched the fabric of the dress as Joey struggled and snarled; it felt warm, humming, alive.

“This stuff is cursed,” Matt said. “I don’t believe it but it is,” Matt said. He began to rip the dress off Joey. The ancient fabric gave away and tore easily and in a moment Joey stopped fumbling for the screwdriver and stared up with a blank expression.

Matt tore the rest of the dress of Joey, leaving him there in his t-shirt and jeans.

“What the hell is going on?” Joey breathed. He looked up at Matt. “Did I? Was I? Oh my God! That wasn’t me!”

“Yeah, I know.” Matt said. “There’s evil in this stuff. Your Aunt was right.”

“What’re we gonna do?” Joey asked.

“Burn it out back.” Matt said. “In the dumpster. All of it.”

He helped Joey to his feet and then they kissed for a moment, Joey not noticing that Matt had tossed the screwdriver under the cabinet on the wall.

“I bet Aunt Belinda wanted it burned anyway.” Joey said.

“Let’s not wait to ask her.” Matt said, picking up the big cardboard box of clothes from the ancient play.

It wasn’t as if they’d never burned old stuff before, Matt reflected. He followed Joey out as he tossed the torn-up dress in the dumpster and fumbled around in his pockets for a lighter. Matt was balancing the box full of clothes in his arms and had put the old derby on his head, making it easier to carry. Matt remembered that Joey had always admired his muscles. Matt worked out a lot. So it was easy for Matt to use one of the costume’s belts to throttle Joey from behind.

Matt let Joey’s body fall to the ground and pressed the hat down more firmly on his head. There would need to be more sacrifices, he realized. He walked back into the shop remembering where Joey’s aunt kept the pair of scissors, the names echoing in his head as they were once called out in lost Carcosa; “Hastor! Hali! Uoht! And Icy Thabbas!”

They would see blood run…

—end—

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Okay, “Kill Your Gays” is a trope I justly despise, but I figured what the hey! And I dedicate this to the late writer Robert W. Chambers (1865-1933) with thanks for the inspiration! —-mike

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

Costumed Dumpster Horror. September 2024 Flash Fiction Draw Challenge Draws from Mike Mayak (September 9, 2024)

Posted on September 9, 2024 by jeffbaker307

FFDC Draws, September 9th, 2024

First, here’s the prompts for the September 2024 Flash Fiction Draw Challenge. Then my usual long-winded explanation:

A Horror Story

Involving A Dumpster

Set at A Costume Shop

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 Ten of Hearts (a Horror Story), the Jack of Diamonds (A Costume Shop) and the Queen of Clubs (A Dumpster.) So we will write a Horror Story, set in a Costume Shop, involving A Dumpster.

We’ll have the results here in this same space around Monday September 16, 2024.

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 in about week!

And have fun!

——mike

Flash Draw Sheet for 2024 (“*” indicates prompt has been used.)

Clubs

*A A Slippery Slide

2 A Rubber Duck

*3 Warm Woolen Mittens

4 A Snow Globe

5 Rubber Baby Buggy Bumpers

*6 A Pepper Mill

*7. A Giant Mallet

*8 A Giant Penny

* 9 A Box of Rubber Bands

*10 A Grapefruit

J A Cellphone

*Q A Dumpster

*K A Comic Book

Hearts

A. Science Fiction

2 A Romance

3 Paranormal

*4 A Mystery

* 5 A Thriller

*6 An Adventure Story

*7. A Bedtime Story

8 A Monster Story

*9 A Fantasy

*10 A Horror Story

*J A Crime Story

*Q A Melodrama

*K A Legend

Diamonds

*A A Burger Place

* 2 A Herd of Horses

*3 A Roomful of Hats

*4 An Empty Gymnasium

*5 The Temple of Diana In Greece

*6 A Field of Lettuce

7 A Haunted House

8 A Western Ghost Town

9 A Greenhouse

*10 A Giant Teepee

*J A Costume Shop

Q A Cake Shop

*K An Outdoor Stage

Posted in Mike Mayak, Monthly Flash Fiction Draw Challenge | 2 Comments

Rainbow Snippets: “Tea And Enmity” from Jeff Baker. September 8th, 2024.

Posted on September 8, 2024 by jeffbaker307

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: https://www.facebook.com/groups/963484217054974 This one is from a little flash fiction chiller I wrote about five years ago for the Flash Fiction Draw Challenge. The drawn prompts were a science fiction story set in a castle and including a tea press; consider it an homage to one of my very favorite authors. Enjoy “Tea And Enmity.” https://authorjeffbaker.com/2020/01/14/tea-and-enmity-by-jeff-baker-for-cait-gordons-flash-fiction-draw-challenge-january-14-2020/

“Got your flashlight?” Luc asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Hey, if we find the gold, maybe we could split it with Giancarlo, if he’s still your boyfriend.”

“He’d like that,” Luc said, as he stepped inside the room. I picked up the device from where Luc had set it down. It was heavy, but I was able to swing it and connect with the back of Luc’s head with a sickening crunch. He fell to the floor.

Giancarlo had been my boyfriend.

Nasty when old friends have a falling-out like that, isn’t it? (I feel like the Crypt Keeper!) Next week something just as fun!

Till then, take care! —–jeff

Posted in LGBT, Rainbow Snippets | 4 Comments

Drat! Friday Flash Fics Gets Poetic! From Jeff Baker; September 6th, 2024.

Posted on September 6, 2024 by jeffbaker307

Drat

by Jeff Baker

Drat! Said the cat.

Jumped on this screen and now I’m flat

Against this window, not where I sat

The dog indoors is looking at

Me, undignified, splayed here, splat!

Claws on the screen, that’s where I’m at

I’ll claw that dog, the little brat!

“Hey! I’m challenging you to a combat!”

When I get down to that floor mat

Just release the claws and jump down pat

And once indoors, there’ll be no chat

What? Wrong house?

Oh, hell!

I’ll scat!

—end—

AUTHOR’S NOTE: A poem not a short story, but it does tell a story! Meow. —-jeff

Posted in Cats, Friday Flash Fics, Friday Flash Fictions, Poems, Poetry | 2 Comments

The Chicken Queen Lurks in Rainbow Snippets from Jeff Baker. (August 31st, 2024)

Posted on August 31, 2024 by jeffbaker307

August 30, 2024

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: https://www.facebook.com/groups/963484217054974 I’ve written several stories about 1970s superheroes Captain Ecology and Compost Boy (the latter of which is 25 years old and in it for the money and to meet guys) and this is the latest. https://authorjeffbaker.com/2024/07/26/the-chicken-queen-hits-gotha-i-mean-goats-town-friday-flash-fics-from-jeff-baker-july-26-2024/ Our scene opens after dark at Liverwurst Labs…

“Golly Captain Ecology!” Compost Boy whispered. “Why are we staking out the Labs on tonight of all nights?”

“My sources tell me that The Chicken Queen has been nesting in Goat’s Town, and with his vast intellect and thirst for power the labs are his most likely target.” Captain Ecology said. “Why their work on computers alone could…Compost Boy are you all right?”

“Uh, yeah, Cap. It’s just that…well I guess…”

“There you are, caped do-gooders!” came the familiar, nasal voice, a voice somehow tinged with a leer. Captain Ecology thought it sounded like the actor who was in the center of that tick-tack-toe game show. “I’ve got the plans for the technology that will revolutionize storing information right here in my grubby hand!”

Holy floppy discs! Will our heroes escape? (Do both of them want to?)

Next week, we travel someplace very dark (but there’s tea!)

As a bonus, here’s the PSA from the 70s that inspired this goofball series of tales. Enjoy! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UCusGJ60AhQ

Posted in Action/Adventure, Captain Ecology and Compost Boy, LGBT, Rainbow Snippets | 3 Comments

Uncle Gil And the Peach Tree. Friday Flash Fics By Jeff Baker, August 31, 2024.

Posted on August 31, 2024 by jeffbaker307

The Puzzle Of the Peach Tree

by Jeff Baker

You have to understand about my Uncle Gil. He always meant well. He invented a light bulb he said would never burn out, but it blew out the power for the entire block when we tried to use it. He’d had it plugged into the generator at the old farmhouse outside of town he used as his laboratory.

He tried shooting something into the clouds to make it rain but it just made a bad smell.

Then there was the incident with the peach tree.

Uncle Gil had a bunch of trees on his property, usually fruit trees including one with crab apples which he let the birds get. He said it was part of an experiment and I never found out what. But that was back when I was about nine years old.

Anyway when I was about fifteen he fenced-off one of the peach trees and said he’d been busy crossing and splicing them for years and finally “got the consistency.” The peach tree wasn’t that tall and the peaches were nothing to brag about; they were small and green like the under-ripe ones my brother and I used to pull off the tree in our own backyard. But on closer inspection they were bluish-green under the covering of fuzz.

“They’re perfect!” Uncle Gil said.

He explained that he had crossed a peach tree with cuttings from an African Baobab tree; “a tree that can be used for anything,” he declared.

“And these little gems will save households millions,” he said, holding up one of the little green peaches. It was about the size of the screw top of a bottle of soda.

“What do they do?” I asked.

“They’re laundry detergent!” Uncle Gill said. “Natural laundry detergent! Toss one of these in with the wash with a load of clothes and they’ll be clean as a whistle! Can you imagine how much money people will save by growing their own detergent?”

“Have you tried it?” I asked, eyeing the peach the way I would a big cockroach. I’d seen Uncle Gil’s experiments work and I’d also seen them go haywire.

“Of course I’ve tried it, Jason my boy!” He turned around twice and I realized he was displaying the clothes he was wearing. “I did my own laundry with a peach this morning!”

I had to admit his clothes looked really clean.

“Here, you try it out!” Uncle Gill pulled out a small paper bag and proceeded to plop several off the mini-peaches in and hand it to me.

I managed a “thanks,” wondering what I was getting myself into.

“Remember, just one peach per load,” he said. “Unless you have a really big, dirty load.”

I nodded and rode my bike home, hanging on to the little peach bag.

It was the weekend and Mom and Dad were out so I grabbed my gym shorts, sweatpants and sweatshirt, went downstairs to the laundry room and tossed the clothes in the washer along with one of Uncle Gil’s peaches. (Mom and Dad had made sure I knew how to do stuff like do my own laundry part of “helping around the house.”)

About a half hour into washing I opened the washer and inspected the load. My sweatshirt, shorts and sweatpants in with water and suds. Just like a normal load of laundry. I shut the lid and turned the wash back on wondering if the peach would leave a pit. I’d kept remembering TV shows where a kid tried to do laundry and filled the house with suds.

Two hours later the clothes were washed, dried and back in my room.

Next day in Gym Class I was wearing those clothes when Coach made us run laps outside first thing. That was when I really broke into a sweat as it was one of the first really warm days. And the first I noticed anything was wrong was when Kenny Beasley ran past me yelling “Run!”

A couple of other kids ran past me too and I glanced behind me and saw the line of kids who had been jogging along scattering every which way. And over them was a huge cloud of what looked like little dots swirling in the air, heading my way.

Bees.

After me.

I had already turned on the track and was heading for the gym and I don’t know if I set a school speed record but I made it back inside, tore off my clothes, leaving them in a pile on the inside floor and ran for the locker room slamming the door behind me. I hid there until Coach pounded on the door to be let in.

He said bees were swarming around my discarded clothes and I explained all about my Uncle’s crossbred peaches. I wasn’t sure he believed me but he made me shower and change into my street clothes. By then they had somehow shoved my gym clothes (and the bees) outside and left them there.

“An unforeseen side effect,” Uncle Gil said. “Your sweat must have activated something in the formula that made it attract bees. Maybe some kind of hyper sweetness. You know, this could be a boon to beekeepers.”

I never found if he sold the peach tree process to any beekeepers. I just know I gave him back the bag of laundry peaches and went to buy new gym clothes.

But it beat wearing bees!

—end—

Posted in D'artagnan, Kansas, Fiction, Friday Flash Fics, Friday Flash Fictions, Kansas, Short-Stories, Uncle Gil | Leave a comment