Investigating a Disturbance

He was eating a burrito when the call came in that there was a disturbance at a local Inn…

… the odd thing you see, was the Inn was no longer occupied and hadn’t been for over a half of a century, which poised a mystery to Officer O’Reilly…

the Inn was once a landmark of fame where the wealthy came, but had hit on hard times many years ago, it’s interior splendor disguised by dust and rust, a sad and forgotten tableau…

Officer O’Reilly read the report by a citizen who walked by the Inn that night claiming he heard noises and saw an eerie light…

approaching the front door O’Reilly remembered the local lore that told of a hidden horror lurking there forevermore…

and peeked into the window instead, hoping he wouldn’t see the walking dead, when he suddenly saw a head and let out a moan of dread, because it was moving until it disappeared into the dark interior…

flashlight pointed straight ahead O’Reilly kicked in the front door and plunged into the dark gloom rapidly moving his flashlight around the room…

when he saw a man with an old-fashioned lantern in his hand, barely able to stand, O’Reilly called out and asked why he was there, but all the man did was stare…

deciding he was a harmless old vagrant seeking shelter he let him stay for one more day, and he went on his way when the old man had nothing to say, unaware he disappeared the moment he walked away.

****

The Champion

The Roman arena on display with the blood of humans and animals on a scorching August day…

we see a massive iron gate rise and out strides two gladiators in armor with killer eyes, ready to find out which one dies…

the blistering heat from the sandy arena floor shimmers on their swords as they walk through the gore and stand before the emperor, listening to the crowd’s roar…

“We who are about to die…” is drowned out by the crowd’s excited cries from spectators with blood in the eyes…

the emperor gives a slight nod and sat down, and the combatants turned around until they faced each other in the open ground, weapons held high, both hoping the other would die…

metal rang against metal in the raging heat, as each athlete refused to retreat so that blood covered each from head to feet while spectators passed out in the terrible heat…

finally one of the men clove open the other’s head, striking him instantly dead, leaving the victor the champion for the day, a title he’d be forced to defend again and again until his last day

****

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 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…”

The Returning Knight’s Story

(Editor’s note: I’m experimenting with a hybrid writing genre combining Flash Fiction/Poetry – let me know what you think. Does it work? Input appreciated – 326 words)

after years he returned from his duty as a crusader in a foreign land, riding a weary war horse in battered and bloody armor, the knight struggled not to think about the terrible things he saw in the Holy Land, where massacres of innocents were common and his soul shriveled watching and participating in…

the sun bore down mercilessly on his and his horse’s rusting armor, and his tortured brain, as he stared from behind unblinking eyes down the long dusty lane, where clusters of cobblestones laid by Roman engineers still existed after hundreds of years, reminded him of the rubble he left behind…

lurking behind his empty eyes was a shadow of recognition that he was once a husband and a father living peacefully in a green valley, where he and his bride were born so long ago, before the Catholic church came by and said he had to go, and defend Christianity for the sake of humanity, or be excommunicated by the church…

that man was just a memory as the knight rode down the road and considered what lay ahead with no emotion like he was dead, but instead he plowed ahead with no plan in mind, no speech to give about his harsh life when he thought about his young wife…

finally the day arrived and the familiar landscape of home rose like a blessing in green rows of trees surrounded by grassy knolls and a farm house at the bottom of the hill ahead, as the knight’s powerful horse picked up it’s gait unconsciously for his master to see his wife standing by a tree…

no Muslim warrior ever wounded the knight so badly

than after talking with her by the tree, when she said she thought he was dead and married again and was happy, with a tear in her eye that he could see, she turned and went back to her new family …

the knight got back on his horse, and rode into history.

***

Dance of the Hypocrites

they go through each day

doing the “Hully Gully

in their hypocritical way

they do the “Twist” with facts

holding reality at bay

hypocrites always dance

to the opposite side of sense

doing the “Hokey Pokey”

and a “Tango” on a fence

they go “Gangnam Style

when caught redhanded

they do the “Moonwalk”

down denier’s aisle

you can easily see

a hypocrite

doing the “Monkey

A “Macarena” line forms

when hypocrites gather

defying norms

They do the “Shimmy”

and the “Shake”

whatever it’ll take

to hide what’s true

recognizing the dances

that they do

is a good warning

for you