The Meteorite

(132 words- flash fiction/poetry)

In the chronicles of Narmer the first King to unite the Upper and Lower Nile, a strange thing happened one night when a brilliant light streaked across the desert sky…

the light, which was actually a meteorite, hit a site near a Hittite temple hundreds of miles away, glowing where it lay, night and day, with a mysterious inner fire that attracted followers by the day…

who listened to the priests gathered there to pray to the meteorite, creating rites and calling it a god for lost souls seeking their way to eternity, a powerful entity that soon inspired a new prosperous Hittite city…

The inevitable clash of nations happened within a century, as the dark gods of both civilizations clashed, like opposing meteorites created by ideologies that couldn’t survive future centuries.

*****

The Last Match

(238 words- flash fiction/poetry)

The wind hammered down the narrow Sierra Nevada Mountain trail, followed by hail and then a blanket of snow as the man looked for somewhere safe to go…

he was covered by his old slicker poncho pulled over his sagging hat and leather clothes, a lone traveler who was nearly froze, but who was able to walk even though he couldn’t feel his toes…

… when the snow stopped and the night crept up like a rattlesnake, the traveler had a decision to make, if he were to survive he’d have to find a shelter to stay alive…

when to his relief he found a small cave in the mountain’s side, an opportunity to get warm inside, where his biggest desire was to start a fire so the heat could get to his frozen feet…

… he gathered some twigs and leaves off the dirt and knelt down while drawing a little cardboard box from his shirt, that to his horror only contained one match…

that he could feel and dimly see, a wooden key to warmth and being frostbite free, he sat there for what felt like an eternity, hesitant to see if the match would be able to relieve his misery…

holding the cardboard box on it’s side he took the match and let it slide across the rough surface and suddenly there was a spark, he lit the fire, and chased away the cold and the dark.

*****

The Grocery Clerk

(162 words- flash fiction/poetry)

Monica was a grocery store clerk who worked for a jerk, but because she had bills to pay she couldn’t just walk away, so she tried to make the most out of each day….

One afternoon she was confronted by a goon with a gun who demanded all the cash in her drawer, to her utter horror, while she complied her manager was trying to hide nearby behind a display of a soap called Tide

After the goon grabbed the cash he was still unsatisfied, and demanded to know where the manager could hide, so Monica looked away from the Tide and was quick to abide pointing up at the office where he would normally reside…

When the police arrived they caught the goon, talked with the manager for a little while, as Monica cleaned up a mess in an aisle, the manager came by to say, “Thank you!” and “… it’s time for a raise in your pay.”

The Last Train

(158 words- flash fiction/poetry)

He waited impatiently on the wooden bench in front of the one-room train depot that sat in the middle of nowhere sweating in the high desert air, when he heard a faint whistle…

Dust devils danced gleefully in the distance, forerunners for a giant sandstorm gathering in the West, but the man was unimpressed, as he stared like he was possessed…

… into the direction of the whistle which grew louder with each heartbeat, and soon he could see a train through the shimmering heat, as he got to his feet, ready to board and take the back seat…

as the train idled and plumes of steam shrilly screamed with the whistle’s urgent blast, the man moved fast to get aboard and ignored the other passengers who looked bored…

There was no need to look back as they went down the track with their memories already fading with the light, something new was just ahead in the gathering night.

****

Mystery of the Maze

He traveled far, through hostile lands for days, hoping to locate and solve the mystery of the maze, which ancient legends say a treasure lurks dating back to another day, when the giants of the earth held sway…

When he saw the opening in a wall of granite it was so huge it made him feel small, but he stepped inside and discovered a great hall, that stretched as far as he could see lined with marble pillars and blocks of ebony…

he trod on the polished serpentine floor, listening to the voices of those who lived no more, who, like him where once an explorer, until something terribly happened and unleashed a nameless horror…

the music of the spheres assaulted his ears, and magnified his fears, so that to gain his sanity and harmony he plunged blindly into the darkening maw screaming at everything he saw…

until a light ahead lessened his dread, and the more he looked ahead the brighter it got until it appeared he found what he sought, a golden corridor and door… he grinned happily and opened what was a dimensional door, becoming part of the Maze’s lore.

****

A Word For My Readers and Fellow Scribes/Bloggers

It’s been a good year for continuity as I’ve been able to post something – a poem or flash fiction – every day since January 1st, 2019. It’s crazy to think I’ve passed the halfway mark of this year, and am still slogging along – for better, or worse.

I want to take this moment to acknowledge my readers and fellow scribes/bloggers for stopping by and visiting. Your interest makes this blog possible. I’m currently at 286 followers and counting…

About some of my followers/fellow scribes:

One of my favorite followers and fellow scribe has a blog called FictionistaFlash Fiction/Musing of Darnell Cureton

Another favorite follower (ahh heck! They’re all my favorite followers!) is the blog called Monkey’s Tale that features fellow scribes Richard and Maggie, from Calgary, Canada.

Another favorite follower, Matthew Richardson (from England) is a prolific and much-published writer. His blog has a little of everything from haiku’s to short stories.

Another delightfully diverse blog is Ray of Sunshine with beautiful poetry by fellow scribe Priyamvada.

Another fellow scribe and prolific writer is H.K. Gayshir whose blog artpends offers daily poetry and art.

Another fellow scribe, Melody Chen, has a blog called HEARTBEATINGWINGS with inspirational poetry

I have a list of other great blogs that I highly recommend checking out on the right hand side of this page under BLOGS I FOLLOW.

To my readers and fellow scribes/bloggers,

Thank You for your interest, encouragement, and camaraderie

Write On!

Strange Days

have you ever had a day when everything seems strange?

like normal routines interrupted with a sudden change?

days when nothing seems right?

days darker than night?

days when you wonder what you’re doing?

days when you feel like people are pursuing?

days when you find nothing going your way?

days when you just don’t get to have your say?

days that seemed like some sort of odd dream?

days when to your horror nothing was as it seems?

then you’re just agreeing

that you’re a human being!

The Lords of Factory Town

(146 words – flash fiction/poetry)

In the massive new industrial age of 2061 where cities glittered like the sun with copper shields and chrome walls that frowned down upon the shining halls of Factory Town, a legendary producer of machines and the biggest around, there was a group of controllers who ruled as lords…

Passage from The Book of Lords of Factory Town:” “… And you shall hold no other adjusters above us… for we are your mechanics, and hope for eternity.”

Passage from The Book of Deus ex machina “… therefore nothing can be built without the blessing of the God from the Machine Deity who makes us free by constantly seeking tranquility…”

One day, the Lords of Factory Town looked around and found robots following the Book of Deus ex machina in their city…

Last Passage from The Book of Lord’s of Factory Town: “... and they rose up against the false deity, and made it’s death a terrible sight for all to see, but they still had to flee to another country…”

A Deadly Sense of Grace

slithering sideways across the desert sand

the scaly predator rules the land

it’s deadly fangs and sharp eyes

are assurance that it’s victim dies

the snake moves swiftly

and surely

looking for spore

on the desert floor

a sleek desert dancer

with a sense of grace

and place

Little Red Riding Hood in the 21st Century

(184 words -Flash Fiction/Poetry)

They called her Little Red in Sedona, Arizona where crystal-gazers told the fortunes of tourists who came to see the famous red sandstone hills beauty, that explodes in orange and red splashes of brilliant colors when the sun rises, or sets.

Little Red was from the barrio on the wrong side of town, a collection of homeless people who gathered around, helping one another, like a sister and brother, to survive in a merciless economy of the 21st century…

The local homies who respected her gig of taking from the rich and giving it to the poor, had a good rapport with the Harley-riding Little Red who stayed ahead of the law gaining the awe of all the local gangs…

One day Little Red went to see her grandma who lived by the sea, to see if everything was the way it was supposed to be, when she discovered an anomaly that led her to believe an imposter was there to deceive…

Little Red hopped on her Harley and headed for open country determined to be free from the constraints of fairytales and history.

***