"…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: https://www.facebook.com/groups/963484217054974
The trouble was, Joey Bianchi was just as good as he said he was, and he told everybody that too. He was damn good in the water and won most of the events at the State Collegiate Invitational Swim Meet the College held my Junior Year. Joey had a tanned, toned body, “built like a torpedo with biceps” my buddy ‘Berto had said over coffee. Yeah, Joey had the tan, perfect teeth, wavy dark hair and deep green eyes.
The girls noticed him and I’m sure even the straight guys checked him out. My friends and I weren’t all straight and we all liked looking at him. But we didn’t like listening to him. His every word was about how good a swimmer Joey was, how good Joey was with the ladies, how good-looking Joey was. You get the idea.
Okay, broke the rules but it was just too good to resist! Next week, something from somebody who is NOT me! —-jeff
It was about six in the evening, the Friday before Labor Day Weekend when the car turned onto Millington Street in Wichita.
“You’re just in time, Dad,” I said, looking at the row of cars parked on either side of the street. “Any later and festivities would be underway.”
“Festival! Festival!” cracked my younger brother Nick, in his Star Trek shirt.
“Cut it out,” I said. I’d almost decked him when he’d tried to give me that neck pinch a while back.
“If we’re lucky, we’ll find a parking space and—ahhhh!”
Dad slid the car into the driveway beside my Great-Aunt and Uncle’s RV which was parked on the lawn between the driveway and the hedge.
“Okay! Everybody out!” Dad said. “We’ll grab the bags later.”
“Sure!” I said. “Hey, Uncle Randy!”
“Hey guys,” my Uncle said, looking tall, tanned with hair flecked with grey. “You beat the Labor Day traffic?”
“Yeah, looks like it’s all over your street.” Dad said.
My family had been coming here for Labor Day at this house since my Grandparents had lived there in the nineteen-fifties. Nick and I were born in the early seventies and Uncle Randy lived in the house now with whoever he was married to at the time.
Some of my earliest memories were of driving here and grilling out hot dogs. Even the month after Mom died three years ago, Dad had insisted on coming out here.
“Okay, Bill,” Uncle Randy said. “I, uh, have a surprise for you. We’re not barbecuing until tomorrow, so I thought you might want to go out by yourself…sort of.”
Dad stopped. “A blind date?”
The front door opened. The woman who stepped out wasn’t seriously hot, she looked a lot like someone who taught school, complete with glasses. But she was in jeans, a nice print shirt, curly brown hair that hit her shoulders, I mean I was only fourteen and I had realized I liked guys and hadn’t told anybody but I could tell she was pretty.
They introduced themselves (she was “Maybelle”) but I could tell something had happened; they weren’t taking their eyes off each other.
That was the moment I knew this was going to be real.
“Maybe you two would like to get a cup of coffee?” Uncle Randy said.
“Uh, yeah.” Dad said, looking up surprised. He had been staring at her eyes and smiling. “That would be nice. Uh, that would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Dad asked her.
They both laughed.
They decided to walk down the street (easier than driving through the traffic jam on Millington) to the old Twin Lakes Shopping Center which was a few blocks away. It was where I used to buy my comic books but now about all they had was storage and a chain coffee shop.
“We’ll see you boys later,” Dad said as they both walked away and waved.
“What’s he doin’? We just got here?” Nick said.
I grinned. “You’ll find out!” I said.
These Days, Dad and Maybelle live in the house on Millington, and we still have the family Labor Day get-together. When we all get up there, Nick on his second wife with five kids and me on my one and only husband and whichever cousins decide to show up, we still grouse about the cars, cook out on the grill and sit out and watch the stars in the late Summer sky.
—end—
AUTHOR’S NOTE: The title “Roads” was taken from an old Seabury Quinn story. It seemed to fit!
NOTE: The draws for the September 2023 Flash Fiction Draw Challenge were; A Comedy, set at A Swim Meet, involving an Empty Box. Here’s what I came up with.—–mike
The trouble was, Joey Bianchi was just as good as he said he was. And he told everybody that too. He was damn good in the water and won most of the events at the State Collegiate Invitational Swim Meet the College held my Junior Year. Joey had a tanned, toned body, “built like a torpedo with biceps” my buddy ‘Berto had said over coffee. Yeah, Joey had the tan, perfect teeth, wavy dark hair and deep green eyes.
The girls noticed him and I’m sure even the straight guys checked him out. My friends and I weren’t all straight and we all liked looking at him. But we didn’t like listening to him. His every word was about how good a swimmer Joey was, how good Joey was with the ladies, how good-looking Joey was. You get the idea.
The day’s events were over and a group of us guys (including Joey) were standing around the University pool shooting the breeze. It was my job to lock up but Joey wasn’t going anywhere; he was bragging about how good he’d done at the first day of the meet and how good he was in general.
“Y’know, nobody’s that good,” said the voice with a slight Oklahoma drawl.
Joey swiveled around with that curled lip Elvis sneer he did and stared at the speaker. He was a kid who barely looked eighteen, but he had on a lanyard with an I. D. on it so I guessed he was. Pale, short blonde hair, built like a high school soccer player wearing swim trunks and a “STATE” t-shirt. He couldn’t have been more than five foot nine.
“You know who I am?” Joey asked. “Who my Father is?”
“Yeah,” the kid said. “Your Dad is that superhero with the Crisis Squad, Mister Ocean.” The kid grinned. “You’re Joey Bigmouth.”
The rest of us were snickering as Joey glowered. Yes, people called him that. Usually not to his face.
“Who the hell are you?” Joey demanded, bending down to get nose to nose with him.
I’ll give this to the kid, he didn’t so much as flinch.
“I’m Si Asphalios,” he said. “They don’t let Freshmen compete but how ‘bout we go for a race across the pool right now?”
Joey glared. “Long way,” he said. Si nodded.
“I’ll leave you behind in my wake,” Joey said. He didn’t like being challenged.
“Hold on a sec,” Si said. “What’ll we play for?”
Gambling was against the College rules but I saw Joey’s eyes dart across the pool.
“Tell ya what, Phallus…” Joey said.
“Asphalios,” Si muttered.
“How ‘bout we play for these?” Joey tugged at the elastic waistband of his swim trunks. “Winner gets both pairs. Loser has to make it back to his car,” he glared at Si “or tricycle, au naturale.” It figured that was the only French Joey knew.
“Deal,” Si said. They didn’t shake hands. Joey pointed at a corner across the pool.
“Go grab that box, Kauffman,” Joey said to me. “We’ll keep the trunks in there so you can hold on to them and give ‘em back to the winner.” As I jogged over to get the box I wondered what I disliked more; Joey taking charge or the way I fell into it. But I was kind of the Junior-In-Charge and so I figured I’d be the responsible one. I brought back the cardboard box which wasn’t that big and may have had the plastic flags they used in it earlier. Empty now.
The two competitors shucked off their trunks and tossed them in the box, trying not to look at them. Si pulled off his shirt and tossed it in too. I tried not to look at Joey.
It was over fast.
I yelled “One-Two-Three-GO!” Both Joey and Si dove into the water. As usual, Joey was sheer poetry, a muscled dynamo leaving a magnificent wake on the surface of the pool. But Si darted underwater moving as fast as a fish I’d seen in the shallows of the lake one summer. Si darted underwater to the other end of the pool and then back to his starting point before Joey even made it to the middle of the pool.
We were all standing there, all but falling over laughing when Si hopped out of the pool, walked over to me, hand extended and calmly said “Trunks, please. Both pair.”
I happily handed Si his and Joey’s trunks and Si’s shirt. He had them on by the time Joey stormed back to our side of the pool and clamored out of the water.
Joey glared at Si. “Gimmie my damn trunks!” Joey growled. Before he could reach him, Si tossed Joey’s trunks to ‘Berto who grinned and ran out the door waving the trunks in the air like a flag, pursued by the angry Joey.
We were all laughing again and I shook Si’s hand and offered to buy him a beer.
“Thanks, but I only drink water,” Si said.
“Oh, and I’m Mark,” I said. “Mark Kauffman.”
“Si Asphalios,” he said. “I’m named after my dad.” He grinned again. “Si is short for Poseidon.”
—end–
Dedication: For L. Sprague De Camp, who used a similar setting, but there’s nothing in the rules about re-using a set! —-mike
“Well, they really did a job on them, didn’t they?” the Fae said, his greenish hair glinting in the summer sunlight.
“Yeah. Look, this is all my fault,” Mac said. “If we hadn’t stayed in bed so long…”
“Hey, I liked it!” the Fae said with a grin.
“But now you’re stuck here until this ring grows back…” Mac said.
“Or until we find another one.”
Well here’s another snippet…
The Fae waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry. There are other ways to access Faerie. If nothing else, I can wait ‘till the Winter Solstice when I can cross through from anywhere.”
“Not on Halloween Night?” Mac said, grinning himself.
“Oh, puh-lease!” the Fae said. He tugged at the t-shirt he was wearing. Blue, with a baseball on the front emblazoned with the name ROYALS.
“And thanks for the shirt,” the Fae said. “I dunno what the Faerie Court will think about the Royals thing, though.”
Went over the six lines but the Royals gag was just too good! 😀
Next week we attend a swim meet. Till then, happy reading! —–jeff
The two men stood staring at the ground. One of them had reddish-brown hair and a soccer player’s build. The other also looked like he was in his twenties, about the same height (5’10”) skinny with light brownish skin that had looked a little greenish in the Moonlight. Green eyes and very definite green hair that hung down around his ears.
On the green grass in front of them was a half-circle of dirty-white mushrooms, part of what had been a perfect circle growing out of the ground. Scattered a little further up the slight rise were clumps of broken mushrooms that had probably been kicked by kids on their way to the pool or something.
“Well, they really did a job on them, didn’t they?” the Fae said, his greenish hair glinting in the summer sunlight.
“Yeah. Look, this is all my fault,” Mac said. “If we hadn’t stayed in bed so long…”
“Hey, I liked it!” the Fae said with a grin.
“But now you’re stuck here until this ring grows back…” Mac said.
“Or until we find another one.” The Fae waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry. There are other ways to access Faerie. If nothing else, I can wait ‘till the Winter Solstice when I can cross through from anywhere.”
“Not on Halloween Night?” Mac said, grinning himself.
“Oh, puh-lease!” the Fae said. He tugged at the t-shirt he was wearing. Blue, with a baseball on the front emblazoned with the name ROYALS.
“And thanks for the shirt,” the Fae said. “I dunno what the Faerie Court will think about the Royals thing, though.”
“Hey, you can grab another shirt for the trip back,” Mac said. “So, I guess you’re staying with me for a while.”
“Yeah,” the Fae said with another grin.
“Beats the heck out of couch surfing.” Mac said.
The Fae laughed. The two of them started walking back to Mac’s apartment.
“Oh!” Mac said, stopping and looking at the Fae. “What do I call you? You do have a name, don’t you?”
The Fae thought for a moment. “O’Brien,” he said. “Like Oberon.”
The two men kissed.
“Hey, isn’t that an Earth cliché?” O’Brien asked. “Having to ask the name of the guy you spent the night with?”
They laughed again.
“At least with the kids today that green hair will blend in,” Mac said as they started walking again. “I’ll like having an otherworldly roommate. Hey, you don’t have antenna, do you?”
First, here’s the prompts for the September 2023 Flash Fiction Draw Challenge. Then my usual long-winded explanation:
A Comedy
Involving an Empty Box
Set at a swim Meet.
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 September 11th, 2023.
As I’m no good making videos I did the drawing offstage and the results were the Six of Clubs (an empty box) the Ten of Hearts (a comedy) and the Nine of Diamonds (a swim meet.) So we will write a comedy, set at a swim meet involving an empty box!
So, get to writing and I’ll post the results next week!
Every week we post six lines of a story of ours, a work-in-progress or from someone else’s work we recommend that has LGBT characters on Rainbow Snippets here https://www.facebook.com/groups/963484217054974
This is from another of my stories posted on the RoMMantic Reads e-zine. https://rommanticreads.wordpress.com/2023/08/18/summer-flash-challenge-2-jeff-baker/ The idea here was to select a couple of pictures and have the regular writers do a summer story. I used both pictures, one of a sand sculpture of an alligator and the other of a spiral staircase with Christmas lights. So I had a little fun with Christmas in August!
“Well, we got the pictures for the museum Christmas card taken,” Luke said. “Glad they shut the place down for the night so we could do this.”
“Glad they left the air conditioning on,” Wally said.
“The digital pics will be easy to send but y’know, sometimes I miss the old way. Darkrooms, the feel you were doing it yourself.”
Wally trotted down the stairs and walked up to his boyfriend, moving the camera hanging down on his chest to the side so they could embrace.
“I remember doing a few things in a darkroom.” Wally said.
The two men kissed for a minute.
Just a little longer than six lines but I couldn’t resist! Especially when the lines about it being more fun the old way were actually said to me by a photographer! —–jeff
‘Nathan Burgoine’s YA novel “Stuck With You” is the latest Hi/Lo from Lorimer Books’ “Real Love” imprint.
A Hi/Lo being a “high interest, low reading complexity book” meant for young readers who do not have a high reading level for one reason or another.
“Stuck With You” is told from the vantage point of Ben Ross. About to turn eighteen and on the train from his yearly visit to his Father in Toronto going home to his Mom and Stepdad in Ottawa. He’s Gay, out and without his cellphone as Caleb Khoury had accidentally broken it with a basketball back at school. Ben, therefore has been without contact to his support system of friends and the school’s Rainbow Club during his stay with his Father with whom he has nothing in common.
The last person Ben wants to see is Caleb Khoury.
Guess who sits down in the seat next to him?
The last thing Ben wants is a four-hour train ride with Caleb.
So it stretches to over five hours thanks to a rainstorm.
This gives the two teens a chance to talk, reluctantly and with a lot of tension at first as they begin to open up because they have nothing else to do. And here is where I, as a reader, worried because this was a “frenemies to boyfriends” story, so I wondered if the inevitable changes in their relationship would seem contrived or forced or fake. None of that happened. It seemed natural and very genuine, including Caleb’s revelation that he is bisexual.
It says a lot about Burgoine’s skill as a writer that he humanizes these two characters who could have been wooden cliches in lesser hands.
The train ride (on the “Via Train”) is evoked perfectly. Readers who have ridden that route have praised the descriptions, and I must give a nod to Burgoine’s fun chapter titles, all of which reference Caleb. (“Caleb Khoury Never Shuts Up,” Caleb Khoury Flexes a Lot,” “Caleb Khoury Is Into Guys.”)
Aimed at a YA audience, “Stuck With You” is a fun, breezy read. A train ride into the world of young love, and is highly recommended.
—end—
NOTE: This review was also posted on Goodreads. —–jeff
The two boys were born a day apart and had celebrated their birthdays together since they could remember. It helped that they grew up next door to each other.
“Look down there,” Kelvin said, pointing down the alley.
Dirt and gravel road, lined with trees and phone poles stretching into the distance and seemingly framing a far off grain elevator.
“Yeah,” Les said.
“Someday I’m gonna go down that alley and walk right out of this town for good.” Kelvin said.
“And I’ll be right behind you,” Les said.
“Hey! I’ll race ya! C’mon!” Kelvin said, pulling his bike out from the tree.
“All right!” Les said jumping on his bike and peeling out from under the tree. They were not too old or mature to race down a dirt alleyway in the middle of a small-town summer.
In later years, the summers of their youth would blur in memory. Kelvin would fall head-over-heels with a local girl and wind up working for her father in town.
Les, after many misadventures would wind up working in Sacramento.
The hot California summers would sometimes make him think of that brightly-lit summer alleyway when they were both fourteen years old.
