"…his stories are always sharp and compact and interesting." ——Angel Martinez "(One of) the hottest authors in the independent horror scene…" —-Hellbound Books
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]
Tales are told of the wandering Prince Almazotz, and of his many adventures attempting to escape his Royal Father’s wrath as well as an arranged marriage to a stuffy and boring prince of another realm. But when the three moons ride high in the sky the ancient chronicles recall the wild night of the Prince’s encounter with the Horse-Drover YoPo and his attempt to find the legendary Horse of Gold.
It had transpired earlier that evening that the Prince (disguised as usual in more humble garments) had come across the Horse-Drover watering his horses at the Fountain Of the Really Smelly Animals. The Prince remembered the Prophecy about the Golden Horse. (The Prince had a mental catalog of any prophecy that involved gold, silver or jewels.)
Prince Almazotz is my attempt to do a de Camp style comic fantasy, so I set it on my mystical sci-fi-ish World Of Three Moons and have several stories posted on my blog and a longer story making its way through the slushpiles. And yes, there will be a book!
Next week, something for those of us who are watching the thermometer! —–jeff
Flash Fiction Draw Challenge January 2024; The Results! January 13th, 2024.
Hi, again! Mike here, also known as “Jeff Baker.”
The draws for the January 2024 FFDC were:
A Legend
Set in a Herd Of Horses
Involving a Grapefruit
Can you believe it’s 2024? Rod Serling would have been 100 this year!
It’s only Saturday January 13th here but I’m posting these stories early! (If I get any more I’ll stick them on!) Happy reading! Here’s a story and a poem!
My Brother and I were renting an old house for about a year when he started joking about the thermometer by the front door. It was one of those things with a digital display, this one showing a line drawing of a smiling young man, usually attired for the day’s weather either in shorts, a rain coat with an umbrella, a parka, even swim trunks while the image behind him was of like sun, rain or snow and the current temperature was displayed beside him.
Patrick joked that the display guy looked like that Gay You Tube guy I’d been crushing on. I laughed and we both started calling the guy on the thermometer “The Li’l Gay Dude.”
To myself, I grumbled that the crush on the You Tube guy was about as practical as my bust of a love life had been lately. But Patrick actually tried to help out. He fixed me up on a blind date with this guy he knew from work.
“Is he Gay?” I asked. (I’d been set up on a date with a straight guy once!)
“Of course!” Patrick said. “He’ll meet you at the Monarch downtown at one o’clock Saturday.”
“Afternoon, right?” I asked.
Patrick just glared and laughed.
Saturday arrived and I was dressed in my best jeans, a shirt that wasn’t too fancy for a sandwich bar (I hoped) and I headed out the door, giving a glance at the thermometer. 68 degrees. Good. It barely registered with me what the figure was doing.
It registered with Patrick. He took a picture of it with his phone and sent it to me.
The Li’l Gay Dude was standing there frowning, holding out his hand, thumb down.
The date went okay, but later that week I found that the guy had two other boyfriends, a girlfriend and a wife in another town. Open relationships I could probably deal with but not this blatant dishonesty.
Thursday at home I sat down on Patrick’s sofa with a bottle of beer and stared at the pic I’d saved on my phone. Had the Li’l Gay Dude had been trying to tell me something? Or was it some kind of glitch in the thermometer?
Patrick said “glitch,” and I agreed. But we weren’t all that sure.
A weekend later I had another date. Late lunch at this little outdoor cafe downtown. Weather was nice. I dressed casual. As I walked out the door I did glance at the thermometer and this time the Li’l Gay Dude was wearing slacks, a jacket (like mine) and was frowning and actually holding his nose.
Yes, I took a picture.
The date was a disaster. We got into an argument about politics which ended with my tossing a piece of my chicken on his plate and saying “Here’s the part you like; the right wing!” and storming out of the cafe.
“That guy’s started predicting my bad dates,” I said to Patrick back home, not adding that predicting bad dates for me wasn’t really that difficult.
“He doesn’t seem to register for me, just the weather,” Patrick said.
“You aren’t a Gay dude,” I said ruefully.
“This is like a Gay Twilight Zone,” Patrick said.
I just sat there and thought.
I didn’t go out for another couple of weeks. I was getting gun shy. Then another friend of Patrick’s from work dropped by with a guy my age. Introduced him as Brian and they said they were there to see the Li’l Gay Dude. True to form it was just showing the temperature, the Dude wearing a tank top, shorts and sunglasses, a beach chair in the background.
“Probably because you aren’t going out on a date right now,” Patrick said. I nodded.
“Let’s test it out,” Brian said. “There’s a hot dog place a block over from here. Wanna walk down there and get a soda?”
Patrick was grinning at me. I’d sworn no more blind dates. But…
“Sure,” I said. “What the hey!”
We went out the door actually smiling. I ducked back inside to grab my wallet. I checked the Li’l Gay Dude.
For a moment, just a moment, he was standing there smiling in the display. Wearing what even in black-and-white I could see was a rainbow flag t-shirt. Along with a cutaway formal coat and formal striped pants. And a black top hat.
Like for a wedding.
I grinned again and headed out for my soda date with Brian.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: The draws for the January 2024 Flash Fiction Draw Challenge were for a Legend, set in a Herd of Horses involving a Grapefruit. So we travel to the mysterious World Of Three Moons for an adventure of the not-that-mysterious Prince Almazotz. Enjoy! —jeff
Tales are told of the wandering Prince Almazotz, and of his many adventures attempting to escape his Royal Father’s wrath as well as an arranged marriage to a stuffy and boring prince of another realm.. But when the three moons ride high in the sky the ancient Chronicles recall the wild night of the Prince’s encounter with the Horse-Drover YoPo and his attempt to find the legendary Horse of Gold.
It had transpired earlier that evening that the Prince (disguised as usual in more humble garments) had come across the Horse-Drover watering his horses at the Fountain Of the Really Smelly Animals. The Prince remembered the Prophecy about the Golden Horse. (The Prince had a mental catalog of any prophecy that involved gold, silver or jewels.)
He was able to bribe YoPo to let him travel with him for the night, but the Drover was well aware of the legend of how “a man of Royal birth will encounter a Drover at the Smelliest Fountain and how, under the Three Moons, they shall encounter the Golden Horse.” The Prince had told him he was related to the Royal House but had not given his real name.
As the sun set, YoPo and Prince Almazotz set off across the desert with the five or six horses (the legend is not clear on this) which YoPo was taking to The Grand Market. The Prince walked beside them, making sure the horses did not run off and carrying the basket of sour Grape-Fruit these horses preferred. The Prince occasionally was munching on one of the Grape-Fruits and keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of the Golden Horse.
The night was lit by the three Moons high in the sky when they saw the shape in the distance, coming towards them. The Prince quickly hopped on one of the horses and urged it forward, to meet with this mysterious figure.
The horse wouldn’t move. It looked up at the Prince with an annoyed expression. The Prince climbed down from the horse he was riding on and stood with YoPo.
“Look! It is coming towards us! We need not pursue!” YoPo said pointing. “And behold! The horse is made of gold!”
Indeed they could see clearly in the moons-light the glistening yellowish-golden color of the horse as it approached.
“The Golden Horse!” Prince Almazotz breathed. “And it is ours!”
Within moments, the Golden Horse trotted up to them and to the herd who whinnied and snorted, maybe in greeting. The Golden Horse walked over to Prince Almazotz and nosed the bag full of Grape-Fruits at his side. The Prince handed the horse one of the fruits and he munched it happily
YoPo and the Prince stared. Up close the golden color was the yellowish mud and clay of one of the oases that dotted the area.
Prince Almazotz sighed.
“Doubtless this horse was trying to cool off during the heat of the day and was covered in the clay of the oasis.” YoPo said.
“So the prophecy was worth about as much as a half-eaten Grape-Fruit expelled from a muddy horse,” the Prince said. “Wonderful.”
“On the other hand, we now have another horse to take to market if we do not find its owner.” YoPo said.
“We do? Oh, we do!” Prince Almazotz said. “And the owner could give us a substantial reward!”
“He may even pay us in Grape-Fruit,” YoPo said with a smile as they resumed their walk through the desert.
Thus ends the tale of Prince Almazotz and the Golden Horse. As for whether there ever was a real Golden Horse and what its true nature was, alas! On that, the Chronicles remain silent.
First, here’s the prompts for the January 2024 Flash Fiction Draw Challenge. Then my usual long-winded explanation:
A Legend
Involving a Grapefruit
Set in a Herd of Horses
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 January 15th, 2024.
As I’m no good making videos I did the drawing offstage and the results were the King of Hearts (a Legend), the Two of Diamonds (A Herd of Horses) and the Two of Clubs (a Grapefruit.). So we will write a legend set in a herd of horses involving a grapefruit.
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.
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: https://www.facebook.com/groups/963484217054974
The house had originally been owned by a man named Peregrine and there had been a stone falcon set into the concrete of the low wall at one end of the spacious, welcoming front porch until it had been worn away by generations of young children and toppled by a falling tree branch during a storm. It had been part of the Rawley family since the late 1950s when it had been bought by the patriarch and then inherited by the younger son, Gus Rawley, along with a lot of money and Gus lived there, wrote articles for magazines there and was happily ensconced with “Bertie,” really Bertram, the man he had met at a party and they were the rare couple in that generation of the family who actually stayed together over the years. They were, in fact, together in the house for just over forty years before they both passed away.
“I don’t like ‘Passed Away,’” Gus had said at a family Christmas at the house. “It makes it sound like someone just farted.”
Okay, that one sentence was waaaaay too long! (Bad habit of mine!) Next week, something a little more adventurous! Until then, pleasant dreams! —-jeff
December 31st, 1969 my Mom & Dad went down the street to a party, leaving me with a babysitter; Jan, the girl who lived next door who was about five years older than me (I was nine. I had this big, unrequited crush on her!)
I wanted to see the New Year come in. Mom & Dad said it was okay as long as I went to bed first, I could get up just before Midnight.
I had dinner from the fridge, drank a bottle of 7-Up and checked my watch. I don’t remember what was on TV. I don’t remember what day of the week it was. (Wednesday. I just looked it up.)
I hopped in bed around nine or so and set my alarm for about 11:50. Jan stayed downstairs and did homework.
I snoozed, the alarm went off, I got up, we watched the clock and then 12:00am came and…
Nothing.
We turned on the TV, nothing on but an old movie. (Remember, 1969.)
We went outside. Nothing. Night, stars, breeze.
We figured the clock was off. So I checked my watch, re-set my alarm and in a few minutes it went off at 12:00.
Fireworks popped outside!
We yelled, we jumped, we danced, we welcomed 1970!
I had another bottle of 7-Up and went back to bed. And that was New Year’s when I was Nine…
Every week we post six lines of a story of ours, a work-in-progress or from someone else’s work that we recommend that has LGBT characters on Rainbow Snippets, here; https://www.facebook.com/groups/RainbowSnippets
I hadn’t planned on working New Year’s Eve when I got the text message. Enough cash to pay off my post-Christmas credit card balance, so I packed a toothbrush and my private eye license and checked into one of the ritziest hotels downtown for the night. Another working holiday for Andrew Navarro. I was between boyfriends, so no big deal. The party was on the top two floors, a New Year’s bash with booze and snacks and a posh room to safely crash in after ringing in the New Year. All part of an expensive package. I got with hotel manager, my latest employer, about Noon in the hotel lobby on December 31st.
Here’s more.
The rest of the partiers trickled in as the afternoon went on, and most of the guys were pretty well-behaved at first, but some of them had evidently started partying early. About five-thirty with the lights coming on in the darkening city I saw a buff young guy in the hallway wearing nothing but a red speedo, a Santa Claus hat and “Naughty or Nice” printed in black marker across his chest and abs.
“Happy New Year, dude!” he said, giving me a thumbs-up. I gave him a nod and grinned.
And just a little more…
I checked in at the ballroom from time to time but mainly I patrolled the hallways, keeping my eyes and ears open for any trouble. It was after nine thirty and the music was blaring from the ballroom when I found trouble. The kid from earlier in the hallway with the Santa hat was lying face down on the floor. It didn’t take me more than a minute to realize he wouldn’t be ringing in this or any other New Years.
Hope your New Year’s isn’t anything like that, except maybe for seeing hunky guys! (Live ones, of course!)
Wishing you all the best for the New Year, 2024! —-jeff
AUTHOR’S NOTE: No Friday Flash Fiction story this week, but I have a story for New Year’s that I’m posting this week. The picture that inspired it I took right before Halloween and I wrote the story a week or so later. Enjoy! ——–jeff
Peregrine House was the name attached to the stylish old brick house, one of a neighborhood of stylish houses that had stood in that area near the river since just after World War One.
The house had originally been owned by a man named Peregrine and there had been a stone falcon set into the concrete of the low wall at one end of the spacious, welcoming front porch until it had been worn away by generations of young children and toppled by a falling tree branch during a storm. It had been part of the Rawley family since the late 1950s when it had been bought by the patriarch and then inherited by the younger son, Gus Rawley, along with a lot of money and Gus lived there, wrote articles for magazines there and was happily ensconced with “Bertie,” really Bertram, the man he had met at a party and they were the rare couple in that generation of the family who actually stayed together over the years. They were, in fact, together in the house for just over forty years before they both passed away.
“I don’t like ‘Passed Away,’” Gus had said at a family Christmas at the house. “It makes it sound like someone just farted.”
The house was vacant for a few months before a Rawley nephew took possession and moved in. But he didn’t stay. Little things moved when he wasn’t there. Strange noises in the night. Laughter. Voices. The nephew believed the house was haunted. And that was how Peregrine House’s reputation stayed until several years after when the nephew’s cousin and her husband took possession.
They heard no creaking, no noises, found the house warm and inviting and dismissed the stories and the stories were forgotten. They raised children who they didn’t tell about the house’s reputation and nobody saw anything unusual.
Almost nobody.
One bright, brisk New Year’s Day morning one of the neighbors, John by name, was walking home from spending the night on another neighbor’s couch after a New Year’s Eve party a few doors down from Peregrine House. As he passed buy, he glanced up at the porch.
There, sitting on the metal chairs that stayed out there in all kinds of weather were two full-sized human skeletons.
“Bout time to take those Halloween decorations down, isn’t it?” John said to nobody in particular, his head throbbing.
One of the skeletons sat up off the chair and waved.
“We’ll do that,” the skeleton said.
“Hi, John!” the other skeleton said, waving.
John stared for a second and ran, barely registering the laughing from the cozy porch as a ghostly couple celebrated the arrival of yet another year.
No better place on Christmas Week to visit than a Christmas Party. And no better book for our purposes than ‘Nathan Burgoine’s excellent Christmas story “Handmade Holidays.”https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/55992618-handmade-holidays?ref=nav_sb_ss_5_17The book follows Nick, on his own after his homophobic parents toss him out at age nineteen, on a series of Christmases over the years. Nick and his friends call themselves “The Misfit Toys.” Let’s join them. The party is in full swing…
“When your number comes up, you get to pick an ornament off the pile,” Nick explained to Erik, while Haruto shredded the wrapping paper. “Or if you like something someone else already has, you can take it from them, and they get to do the same thing—open a new present or take something someone else has. But the ornaments can’t change hands more than once a round. Once they’re all open, you trade instead, or you can keep the one you’ve got. You’re in the deck three times.”
‘Nathan Burgoine says that the collecting of Christmas ornaments to symbolize a year came from his own experience. Which he put into the highly recommended book.
Next Week; A New Year’s Eve party that does not turn out as well.
And I wish you all the very best for the Holiday Season! —–jeff
authorjeffbaker 