It can be said or it can be read by adding a mark or two.
The wonders they create when arranged in the right order draws mystery in the air.
This power to invoke a response in another’s imagination has my own mind in an unfocused whirl. Looking out over nothing and nowhere I like the possibility of reaching out past this time in which I live. To speak to another I will never meet, finding him or her as a friend.
I know there are many better words for this but I just can’t seem find them right now. I laugh at the thought of words hiding from me. If I find them do I win the game?
Can you say it with two or why not eight?
I’ll use words to make them blush; laugh, no, the warmth from a memory in their own heart.
Nudge it just a little till it spills out through tears or held in their fist like a sword ready to slash out with words of their own.
Starring back to my pen there is a wonderful magic waiting inside this tiny reed of possibilities and only the limits of my imagination are my shackles.
“I’m fine Doctor, here’s my proof” (Flash Fiction)
Entrapment that’s what it was but I was caught. I could almost hear the unwritten portion of the story laughing. She had put on the sexiest red dress I had ever seen whispering in my ear.
“Come on big boy, you know you want to.”
Yes, yes I did, I couldn’t wait. Grabbing for my favorite pen; But I was seduced it’s not my fault. After all, I’m a writer. It’s my job, my mission in life, to do these things.
She lifted the end up slowly letting me peek. Then she went too far, showing me the happily ever after part at the bottom of the page. I can’t take it; I must write more.
The dirtiest trick she pulled was when she promised that people would remember my name forever. I’ll do it quick turn the page. I’ll spread it all out.
Wait, this is where they are and this is where they’re going. Yes, I know, just stop touching my paper. I can’t see the page before the end when you do that. Oh, a little lower please. That must feels so good.
Turning up the heat, she said this but wanted that; he knew it was wrong. What they did to his family last year justified his actions.
I got it keep going. Don’t worry I’m scribbling it all down as fast as I can write.
Then I stopped. There it was, the dreaded “Penultimate page” waiting to be written. But I can’t let him do that to her on paper.
Don’t tell me I must, I have a choice and get that adjective away from my noun. I can’t do this. They will hang me for sure. Tacking a sign to my gallows, “Smut writer”
Oh the horror of it all why did I listen to you.
I should have written a flash fiction comedy about a man that has gone over the edge.
The Ghosts of the masters (Flash Fiction 345 words)
Shifting wind settled. The calm returned to the shadows under the trees. Three more spirits gathered like crows on a wire. The moon watched over them marking this hour of freedom in its silver glaze. Voices in question echoed as the last of their words caught up to their first. William greeted Monsieur’ Rodin, the latest to arrive.
“Tarry not as thy fellows await thee midst the guarded arms of strong drink and cheer.”
Ernest shook his head as he settled back down,
“Damn-it William, knock off the crap, we’re dead not on stage.”
Monsieur’ Rodin didn’t say a word as he remained deep in thought silently toasting the others as they drank.
Ernest grumbled as he riffled through the stack of papers he borrowed,
“Not one, not a single one of them has it.”
“Has what?”
“Soul, feeling or fire. Yes the words are here; written with order and with the rules we gave but….”
He let his words fade as his wishes took him back. Back to the days spent in empty lighthouses with clouds of smoke choking, throat burning liquor dulling the pain as he wrote.
William’s shoulders gave way letting the earth drag them closer. He too missed the scratching of the quill the excitement of painting worlds of wonder with finely crafted meter and verse.
Auguste spoke softly, “It will return, in the cycle of time there must be drought between the days of plenty even in the writings of men.”
The sound of the night winds haunted distant leafs in their lofty perches. They all stood knowing the hour was nigh.
William lifted his hand to the others, “Fair thee well for the master calls once more. Yonder beckons my mind, gleaming yet a spark of light in the hearts of some that order ‘RULES BE DAMNED’ and sing as we once did.”
The breath of the night blew and their mist returned to the place of waiting. The papers danced on the breeze drifting back to the quiet ground. Till they lay scattered and still under the stars.
This isn’t a game, it’s about as serious as it gets. First Sergeant usually barks and screams at everyone when we have an alert. This morning, if you consider zero-three-hundred a morning Top-Sergeant is flying low and moving fast. Instead of loading our gear, it gets stacked on pallets for shipping out later if it’s needed. First platoon has been ordered into the Day-room for a briefing after we are issued our 16’s.
Normally we gotta sign logs with two armors checking and re-checking numbers on each weapon that comes out of the vault. This time they just snatched the card out of my hand and stuffed it into the slot where my rifle was.
One of the armors is ripping open cases of new ammo. As we step away from the window, he shoves an entire bandoleer of bullets at everyone holding a gun.
Most of the time you can hear bitchin-an-moanin about doing this shit in the middle of the night but when we get live ammo everyone held their tongue.
The C.O. is usually hiding in his office while this circus is going on but he’s waiting for us in front of a map they taped to the vending machines. Out back you can hear a half ah dozen choppers landing. No this aint a game at all.
It seems a Two-Star General was snatched while checking things over and we gotta go get him or put a bullet in his head before they make him talk. This isn’t that romantic war-movie shit you see on TV to keep our mothers from tarring up D.C. this is the way it really is. On a mission like this we don’t play that ‘no man left behind’ crap. If you bite it I got orders to remove the bolt from your gun, stuff it in my pocket and bust what’s left of it against a tree. Don’t get me wrong; when it’s over we’ll go back for you with a bag but mission comes first.
Third and Fourth squad was inserted into a clearing an hour ago. Five more clicks and we bust up into fire teams to sweep this sector of the jungle. Staff-Sergeant grabs his ear piece and gives us the sign to hold. First and Second squad made contact flushing them this way All eyes are on him as he scopes out the area. He is waving his arms like he’s silently directing planes. Each sign tells us where to go, which teams heard them into the kill-zone and what the signal will be to open up.
No time to dig in they’ll be here in twenty. A trained eye can pick out the dark sweat soaked uniform of a soldier even through the thick foliage. However, we know a few tricks they don’t show you in the movies.
Sliding your machete under the thick grass and roots on the jungle floor is like slicing a strip of carpet that can be unrolled over you like a living blanket.
Locked and loaded. Fishing out two more thirty round mags, one click off Safe and I’m ready to rock-n-roll.
Bugs crawling everywhere; can’t move. Damn here comes the rain across the canopy again. This is gonna fuck with my ears they’ll be closer before I’ll be able to pick em out.
Okay here they come; the high-pitched ‘tat-tat’ of the sixteen’s flushing them right down our throat. Yup that’s L.T.’s whistle, one long blow followed by two quick blasts. That means were going to get about twenty targets.
That must be their lead scout, damn he’s moving fast that means the rest are haulin-ass too, had better click on over to full auto. Here they come, wait for it ….wait…. WAIT
*~*
Brokenhearted Violin
I pray thee forgiveness, as your heart is breaking.
Your cry of anguish fills my soul with the sweetest tear.
Mournful longing crushed in the blackness of pain.
Yet for the long drawings notes that echo, filling the air with gentle caressing, they do lift me.
For you were blessed to have once known that which we can only dream.
The greatest of loves that destroys you in vacant shadows.
Surely, God himself hears you’re grieving as a prayer for peace.
Your sorrows are the melody of angels in my ears.
I swear to hold this precious in memories yearning for the day that I too might kiss the love before it passes from my grasp as well.
“Jan where are you; all the good stuff is gonna be gone if you don’t kick it in high gear.”
“I can’t make it Linda”
“Sweetie what’s wrong you sound like you’ve been crying?”
“I just, it’s nothing to, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Nonsense girl we’ve been friends since the second grade and I know when you’re in trouble; are you alone?”
“Yes, Dan’s at work”
“I’ll be there in a flash, either tell me now or I’ll pry it out of you in two minutes when I pound on your door.”
“I’m pregnant”
“YOU’RE WHAT”
“I said I’m pregnant”
“But you and Dan said you didn’t want kids”
“No Dan said that not me”
“Let me in I’m pulling up now.”
Linda almost sprinted to the door hugging her best friend, kissing her repeatedly on the cheeks until she kissed a tear.
“Honey what’s wrong; you should be happy, well happier, being a mom isn’t that bad.”
“In this case it couldn’t be any worse.”
“Ah so you and Dan don’t get to go to Grease next year just do it the following year and I’ll baby-sit for you two. By the way when do I become an aunt?”
“I not sure if I can”
“Jan surly you aren’t thinking of that; Dan will just have to get use to being a Daddy.”
“Well not exactly.”
“Now I’m confused, get me a cup of your coffee and let’s hear it.”
“Well you know of the problems Dan had with his parents, he always told me he would never be a dad because of that.”
“Yeah-yeah, and so”
“I found out this morning I even bought two of them to make sure.”
“Damn this has gotten to you”
“So I followed the instructions to the letter and yup, two lines is positive. When I brought it up asking him if he was totally sure he never wanted children, he said not only was he sure but he made sure it would never happen. It seems he got snipped before we got married.”
“So then how…..OH-NO, you didn’t…..did you? And he doesn’t know does he?”
“No I closed the bag and threw it away before he saw it.
“Okay then who, just tell me I promise he’ll never hear it from me, my lips are sealed, whose is it?
Gary’s motor cycle was almost full throttle heading for home. He could have sworn he just past his wife and kids on the freeway going the other direction. What he didn’t understand was the suitcases in the back of the truck. She didn’t even wave but the sun was in her eye so she might not have seen him.
Pulling up in the drive he dropped the kickstand but waited a few moments before getting off. The double shift he worked was unexpected and unavoidable. Every muscle in his body was sore and he still had traces of grease under his nails as he unlocked the front door. Busting ass to save his house meant he was gone more. This put a strain on them and they seemed to fight a little more. Last weekend he had taken the time go to the state fair trying to spend a little quality time with the family.
The quiet house was almost spooky with all the lights off. The long shadows outside were enough to him from stumbling. The kitchen light brightened the mood a little and a coffee cup full of cola was enough to wash the road grime out of his mouth.
After the second swallow of the bubbles he looked out into the dining room. There on the table was that green bottle of that Jäger or hager however you pronounced it crap that he hated. That bottle had been a present from his sister but he refused to drink it.
Looking at the folded note tucked under the edge of the bottle Gary knew it was a message.
Dropping his tired butt into one of the chairs he started to reach for the note.
His heart stopped sitting on the yellow paper was her rings. Not just the wedding band but her engagement ring too. His hand started shaking and the note took on the look of a poisonous viper. He jerked his hand back not able to pick it up.
Everything inside him that was a man screamed as it tore his heart out. She left, this can’t be but he saw it with his own eyes the suitcases and the kids and the dog all gone.
The sun finished going down and he just starred at the note and the rings. The final kick was that third ring, it was the prize he won her at the fair. The way it fit her finger was perfect and she liked it, well he thought she did.
Now the silence in the house was deafening. Leaving that crap for him to drink must have been her final joke to him but he wasn’t laughing. She walked away and the booze he hated the most must mean “I hate you” in woman speak. God she knew how to gut a man with a simple message.
Putting his head down on his folded arms he couldn’t bare to read her final “Screw-you” note. When every memory in his head started playing for him he started to cry.
If she wanted him to drink to her leaving then why the hell not. Breaking the seal he poured the thick nasty liquor into his cup. Slamming it down it seemed to claw all the way down his throat. Another then another and when this bottle is empty it’s going through the front window. He might even take a midnight ride but who gives ah shit now.
By the time the bottle was half empty he openly cursed and spit at the memories that flashed and were shattered. Scooping up the rings he flung them into the living room hearing them bouncing off the walls to god knows where.
Pouring another he now wanted to read what she said but his cloudy eyes couldn’t focus on the words as they wobbled on the paper as much as he did.
Morning found him on the floor with the crumpled note still in his hand.
“Baby couldn’t wait, scouts campout this weekend. Don’t forget to take my rings to Mr. Frizzenher, tell him to size them to the one from the fair. Kisses
P.S. His daughter says this is his favorite drink so take it to him for a Thank you.
C U later my boogieman, XOXO
Four old guys are sitting in a bar in Alaska, drinking and listening to Merle Haggard.
A young girl from California strolls in with Peta written on her shirt. She asks the barkeeper, “May I have a Shirley Temple.”
He scowls, and with a voice that sounds as if it came from an old bullfrog, tells her, “We only serve whisky or beer.”
Disgusted with his response she then asks, “May I have a glass of wine?”
He shakes his head. A look of disdain washes over her as she then asks for a glass of water. The barkeeper begrudgingly gets her a glass of water.
The four old guys have stopped talking and quietly stare into the mirror behind the bar watching the girl walk through the place as if she owns it. She looks at all the trophies on the wall and spouts, “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves.”
One of the old guys turns around. “You should see the other room.”
The girl props one hand on her hip and walks around the corner to look into the pool table room. She sees nothing but Peta shirts hanging on the wall.
The other old guys turn around to look closely at the expression on her face.
“Don’t worry sweetheart, we only hunt to thin the herd nowadays.” *
It was quiet, not a single customer until he walked in.
“What can I get you tonight my friend?”
“Make it bourbon….neat and don’t go too far with the bottle. I plan on having a few.”
“Bourbon it is, what brings you out on a night like this?”
I set a snifter on the napkin in front of him. As I started pouring, the man twirled his finger indicating he wanted me to keep pouring until the glass was almost half-full.
“If you don’t mind me asking, if this is going to be your first one; did you drive here?”
“No I walked, been walking for hours but the rain started up again as I passed and all of a sudden a drink seemed to be a fitting conclusion for my night.”
Since there were no other customers in the place, I poured myself a cup of coffee and leaned on the bar near enough we could quietly talk without raising our voices too much.
“You and the little woman have words did you?”
“Yeah you might say that. She left a note on the table saying she was leaving me.”
“That’s a rough way to find out.”
“Oh, that’s not the best part. I came home early with flowers and found the note and her rings. She hadn’t finished packing and was still there.”
I took a drink of coffee so I wouldn’t need to say anything. So he continued.
“When I got back to the room she had a few suitcases on the bed throwing stuff in them as fast as she could. She had been crying and when she saw me, she looked terrified.”
The man took another sip of his drink and stared at the bottles behind the bar.
“The thing is, in eighteen years, never once have I ever given her a reason to be scared of me. I’m not one of those guys that swats on a woman. Oh, we’ve argued but I’ve never hit her so that look she gave me was like a kick in the gut.”
The rain battered against the roof. It served only to intensify the silence.
“I didn’t have a clue why she was leaving me but as I leaned on the doorframe and looked around I could tell she was going whether I wanted her to or not. My first reaction was to stop her but…..”
The man closed his eyes and rubbed his balding head with a callused hand. The stains of grease and oil had set so deep in his skin I would have known he was a mechanic even if he was in a suit. The scars and blisters told me this wasn’t a lazy man and his quiet words were a testament to his self-restraint. The hand he used to rub his head now guarded his mouth while he thought for a minute. After taking another drink, he pressed further into his story.
“When I asked her not to go she clenched her teeth and balled up like she was ready to fight. I’m not her jailer, or her father, if she wants to leave, I can’t stop her either. So I told her to take her time. I didn’t want her to get hurt by hurrying because I knew the weather was changing and the last thing she needs is to be rushing around on slick roads, mad and upset.”
That impressed me, this mans wife was leaving him and he was concerned for her safety. The man picked up his glass as if he were going to take another sip but set it back down and slid it away. He pulled out a twenty and set it on the bar.
“Will this cover the drink?”
“Let me get your change.”
“No you keep it.”
He turned on the barstool and started to head for the door. When he looked up a little redhead was standing there. Neither one of us heard her come in. She was soaked to the skin and her hair matted from the rain. Streaks of mascara ran down her face but she looked relieved to see him.
I moved to the other end of the room to let them have some privacy but I couldn’t help but watch. The man towered over the little woman, she had to be five foot nothing and he was at least six foot tall.
They never said a word to each other as far as I could tell but their eyes spoke volumes to. He stood in front of her but held himself humble. She had the look of regret in her eyes. He reached into his pocket and took out the rings he said she left on the note. She glanced at what he held and then back into his eyes almost too ashamed to take them.
The woman slipped the rings back on her finger and took his arm as they walked out together.
I looked at my wedding band then at my watch and reached for the phone. *
“Hello God, yes this is Howard from accounting. Could you meet me in the design lab Jerry is freaking out…..okay we’ll see you in about ten minutes.”
* * *
“Alright Jerry tell him what you told me but slow down and breath once in a while.”
“Well G, you sent over these two models. The A.D.A.M.-1 and the E.V.E.-1 and we programmed both of them exactly as you instructed. Because of the morality program, phase one with a life span of just shy of a thousand years will jump-start the population. Then here on the graph, you wanted to introduce the two-point-oh with a four-hundred year span. Then phase three, the two-hundred year model and finally, phase four, the four-point-oh with eighty-three, no eighty-six years.”
“What Jerry is trying to say is, with every new download we introduce, the morality program degrades. I’ve crunched the numbers and here when they figure out how to start eating right and exercising, they are out living their span.”
“Howard suggested I come up with a few, shall we say speed-bumps we can throw at em to slow them down. I dumbed-down this model and made him think he is better in bed than he really is. We came up with a potbelly, male pattern baldness, and sports.
On that one, after a few children, those droop and she stops lying about his performance. Oh, and I’ve tweaked the Mother-in-law program here and here.”
“Yes but this is the part we wanted your input on. We wanted you to reconsider plastic- surgery and, wait, Jerry show him page six. There in paragraph seven…. Will you zap that dirt-bag before he invents that damned blue pill, it’s screwing up all the stats…no pun intended.”
My last confession? Father, I’m not even Catholic. I’ve just never talked about it and thought that for once I would tell someone. With you being a priest and all, I knew you fellows swore an oath to keep these things a secret.
Well, first time I killed a man for money was my fourteenth birthday. Now I’d robbed guys and popped them because they gave me a hassle, you know, just to shut-em up. The worst is some broad that doesn’t want to give up her rings. Talk about mouthy, and boo-hoo, my grandmother gave this to me. Well kiss my ass, they should’ve just slipped it off their finger and I would have left them alone.
Well, I hooked up with this guy, that knew a guy, that knew a guy, you know how it is. He started slipping my buddy- hope you don’t mind if I don’t use his name because he is the type that may come to see you Fathers himself. I’ll just call him “B.”
B, started handing me envelopes with a shit-load of cash and all I had to do is tap some guy and I had more bread than I could spend. We thinned out the neighborhood of all the competition and undesirable elements. I even did a few, out of town jobs, but the secret is don’t fly, there are cameras everywhere and that’s how they end up catching you.
As things do, business slowed down so we branched into contracts to help the common guy, the everyday John-Q- nobody, that couldn’t get justice. But only for the bad stuff, you know how it is.
Oh and every now and then the cops will stop and frisk ya for weapons. So I made this zip-gum from a .357 barrel that I can hide in my sleeve. Them dummies are looking for a cannon in your belt and its tucked in a sweat band on my wrist. Here let me show you, see, right here. All I gotta do is wear long sleeves, and see you’d never know.
Well, B hands me an envelope and along with the cash is this letter from this sixteen year old girl. Come to find out she didn’t have any money, B told her he’d handle things and so he paid me.
In the letter, she tells me how this asshole has been raping her since she was a kid and she can’t take it any more. Guess who she said was doing it. One more thing, I also found out you ain’t even a priest. You killed him and took his place. The reason I know is, that buddy of mine, B, well that was his uncle and you ain’t him.
Now don’t make a fuss, just put your hands up here on the ledge like you’re praying. And say a few words if you want because you’re gonna be seeing him or the other guy in a minute. Oh, one more thing, if I want to catch the L-Line after, do I go left or right when I leave here? *
I really loved reading your blog. It was very well written and simple to undertand. Unlike additional blogs I have read. I also found it very interesting. In fact after reading, I had to go show the spouse and she ejoyed it as well!
Words of magic in my pen
So many to choose, do I want this or that?
It can be said or it can be read by adding a mark or two.
The wonders they create when arranged in the right order draws mystery in the air.
This power to invoke a response in another’s imagination has my own mind in an unfocused whirl. Looking out over nothing and nowhere I like the possibility of reaching out past this time in which I live. To speak to another I will never meet, finding him or her as a friend.
I know there are many better words for this but I just can’t seem find them right now. I laugh at the thought of words hiding from me. If I find them do I win the game?
Can you say it with two or why not eight?
I’ll use words to make them blush; laugh, no, the warmth from a memory in their own heart.
Nudge it just a little till it spills out through tears or held in their fist like a sword ready to slash out with words of their own.
Starring back to my pen there is a wonderful magic waiting inside this tiny reed of possibilities and only the limits of my imagination are my shackles.
**~~**~~**
Beautifully written! A wonderful piece.
“I’m fine Doctor, here’s my proof” (Flash Fiction)
Entrapment that’s what it was but I was caught. I could almost hear the unwritten portion of the story laughing. She had put on the sexiest red dress I had ever seen whispering in my ear.
“Come on big boy, you know you want to.”
Yes, yes I did, I couldn’t wait. Grabbing for my favorite pen; But I was seduced it’s not my fault. After all, I’m a writer. It’s my job, my mission in life, to do these things.
She lifted the end up slowly letting me peek. Then she went too far, showing me the happily ever after part at the bottom of the page. I can’t take it; I must write more.
The dirtiest trick she pulled was when she promised that people would remember my name forever. I’ll do it quick turn the page. I’ll spread it all out.
Wait, this is where they are and this is where they’re going. Yes, I know, just stop touching my paper. I can’t see the page before the end when you do that. Oh, a little lower please. That must feels so good.
Turning up the heat, she said this but wanted that; he knew it was wrong. What they did to his family last year justified his actions.
I got it keep going. Don’t worry I’m scribbling it all down as fast as I can write.
Then I stopped. There it was, the dreaded “Penultimate page” waiting to be written. But I can’t let him do that to her on paper.
Don’t tell me I must, I have a choice and get that adjective away from my noun. I can’t do this. They will hang me for sure. Tacking a sign to my gallows, “Smut writer”
Oh the horror of it all why did I listen to you.
I should have written a flash fiction comedy about a man that has gone over the edge.
**~~**~~**
The Ghosts of the masters (Flash Fiction 345 words)
Shifting wind settled. The calm returned to the shadows under the trees. Three more spirits gathered like crows on a wire. The moon watched over them marking this hour of freedom in its silver glaze. Voices in question echoed as the last of their words caught up to their first. William greeted Monsieur’ Rodin, the latest to arrive.
“Tarry not as thy fellows await thee midst the guarded arms of strong drink and cheer.”
Ernest shook his head as he settled back down,
“Damn-it William, knock off the crap, we’re dead not on stage.”
Monsieur’ Rodin didn’t say a word as he remained deep in thought silently toasting the others as they drank.
Ernest grumbled as he riffled through the stack of papers he borrowed,
“Not one, not a single one of them has it.”
“Has what?”
“Soul, feeling or fire. Yes the words are here; written with order and with the rules we gave but….”
He let his words fade as his wishes took him back. Back to the days spent in empty lighthouses with clouds of smoke choking, throat burning liquor dulling the pain as he wrote.
William’s shoulders gave way letting the earth drag them closer. He too missed the scratching of the quill the excitement of painting worlds of wonder with finely crafted meter and verse.
Auguste spoke softly, “It will return, in the cycle of time there must be drought between the days of plenty even in the writings of men.”
The sound of the night winds haunted distant leafs in their lofty perches. They all stood knowing the hour was nigh.
William lifted his hand to the others, “Fair thee well for the master calls once more. Yonder beckons my mind, gleaming yet a spark of light in the hearts of some that order ‘RULES BE DAMNED’ and sing as we once did.”
The breath of the night blew and their mist returned to the place of waiting. The papers danced on the breeze drifting back to the quiet ground. Till they lay scattered and still under the stars.
**~~**~~**
This has to be one of my favorite pieces by you. Absolutely imaginative and a wonderful read.
Thank you Chris
Kill Zone
This isn’t a game, it’s about as serious as it gets. First Sergeant usually barks and screams at everyone when we have an alert. This morning, if you consider zero-three-hundred a morning Top-Sergeant is flying low and moving fast. Instead of loading our gear, it gets stacked on pallets for shipping out later if it’s needed. First platoon has been ordered into the Day-room for a briefing after we are issued our 16’s.
Normally we gotta sign logs with two armors checking and re-checking numbers on each weapon that comes out of the vault. This time they just snatched the card out of my hand and stuffed it into the slot where my rifle was.
One of the armors is ripping open cases of new ammo. As we step away from the window, he shoves an entire bandoleer of bullets at everyone holding a gun.
Most of the time you can hear bitchin-an-moanin about doing this shit in the middle of the night but when we get live ammo everyone held their tongue.
The C.O. is usually hiding in his office while this circus is going on but he’s waiting for us in front of a map they taped to the vending machines. Out back you can hear a half ah dozen choppers landing. No this aint a game at all.
It seems a Two-Star General was snatched while checking things over and we gotta go get him or put a bullet in his head before they make him talk. This isn’t that romantic war-movie shit you see on TV to keep our mothers from tarring up D.C. this is the way it really is. On a mission like this we don’t play that ‘no man left behind’ crap. If you bite it I got orders to remove the bolt from your gun, stuff it in my pocket and bust what’s left of it against a tree. Don’t get me wrong; when it’s over we’ll go back for you with a bag but mission comes first.
Third and Fourth squad was inserted into a clearing an hour ago. Five more clicks and we bust up into fire teams to sweep this sector of the jungle. Staff-Sergeant grabs his ear piece and gives us the sign to hold. First and Second squad made contact flushing them this way All eyes are on him as he scopes out the area. He is waving his arms like he’s silently directing planes. Each sign tells us where to go, which teams heard them into the kill-zone and what the signal will be to open up.
No time to dig in they’ll be here in twenty. A trained eye can pick out the dark sweat soaked uniform of a soldier even through the thick foliage. However, we know a few tricks they don’t show you in the movies.
Sliding your machete under the thick grass and roots on the jungle floor is like slicing a strip of carpet that can be unrolled over you like a living blanket.
Locked and loaded. Fishing out two more thirty round mags, one click off Safe and I’m ready to rock-n-roll.
Bugs crawling everywhere; can’t move. Damn here comes the rain across the canopy again. This is gonna fuck with my ears they’ll be closer before I’ll be able to pick em out.
Okay here they come; the high-pitched ‘tat-tat’ of the sixteen’s flushing them right down our throat. Yup that’s L.T.’s whistle, one long blow followed by two quick blasts. That means were going to get about twenty targets.
That must be their lead scout, damn he’s moving fast that means the rest are haulin-ass too, had better click on over to full auto. Here they come, wait for it ….wait…. WAIT
*~*
I liked the “I’m fine doctor” piece. Very slick.
Good work Skip.
Christopher Silva
http://christophersilva.wordpress.com/
Thank you Christopher this helps knowing someone found pleasure in my stories
Brokenhearted Violin
I pray thee forgiveness, as your heart is breaking.
Your cry of anguish fills my soul with the sweetest tear.
Mournful longing crushed in the blackness of pain.
Yet for the long drawings notes that echo, filling the air with gentle caressing, they do lift me.
For you were blessed to have once known that which we can only dream.
The greatest of loves that destroys you in vacant shadows.
Surely, God himself hears you’re grieving as a prayer for peace.
Your sorrows are the melody of angels in my ears.
I swear to hold this precious in memories yearning for the day that I too might kiss the love before it passes from my grasp as well.
Linda’s Troubles (410 / spit-fire dialog)
“Hello”
“Jan where are you; all the good stuff is gonna be gone if you don’t kick it in high gear.”
“I can’t make it Linda”
“Sweetie what’s wrong you sound like you’ve been crying?”
“I just, it’s nothing to, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Nonsense girl we’ve been friends since the second grade and I know when you’re in trouble; are you alone?”
“Yes, Dan’s at work”
“I’ll be there in a flash, either tell me now or I’ll pry it out of you in two minutes when I pound on your door.”
“I’m pregnant”
“YOU’RE WHAT”
“I said I’m pregnant”
“But you and Dan said you didn’t want kids”
“No Dan said that not me”
“Let me in I’m pulling up now.”
Linda almost sprinted to the door hugging her best friend, kissing her repeatedly on the cheeks until she kissed a tear.
“Honey what’s wrong; you should be happy, well happier, being a mom isn’t that bad.”
“In this case it couldn’t be any worse.”
“Ah so you and Dan don’t get to go to Grease next year just do it the following year and I’ll baby-sit for you two. By the way when do I become an aunt?”
“I not sure if I can”
“Jan surly you aren’t thinking of that; Dan will just have to get use to being a Daddy.”
“Well not exactly.”
“Now I’m confused, get me a cup of your coffee and let’s hear it.”
“Well you know of the problems Dan had with his parents, he always told me he would never be a dad because of that.”
“Yeah-yeah, and so”
“I found out this morning I even bought two of them to make sure.”
“Damn this has gotten to you”
“So I followed the instructions to the letter and yup, two lines is positive. When I brought it up asking him if he was totally sure he never wanted children, he said not only was he sure but he made sure it would never happen. It seems he got snipped before we got married.”
“So then how…..OH-NO, you didn’t…..did you? And he doesn’t know does he?”
“No I closed the bag and threw it away before he saw it.
“Okay then who, just tell me I promise he’ll never hear it from me, my lips are sealed, whose is it?
“I can’t tell you.”
“Oh come on now, you have to know who.”
“I do, but I can’t…..”
Night of horror
Gary’s motor cycle was almost full throttle heading for home. He could have sworn he just past his wife and kids on the freeway going the other direction. What he didn’t understand was the suitcases in the back of the truck. She didn’t even wave but the sun was in her eye so she might not have seen him.
Pulling up in the drive he dropped the kickstand but waited a few moments before getting off. The double shift he worked was unexpected and unavoidable. Every muscle in his body was sore and he still had traces of grease under his nails as he unlocked the front door. Busting ass to save his house meant he was gone more. This put a strain on them and they seemed to fight a little more. Last weekend he had taken the time go to the state fair trying to spend a little quality time with the family.
The quiet house was almost spooky with all the lights off. The long shadows outside were enough to him from stumbling. The kitchen light brightened the mood a little and a coffee cup full of cola was enough to wash the road grime out of his mouth.
After the second swallow of the bubbles he looked out into the dining room. There on the table was that green bottle of that Jäger or hager however you pronounced it crap that he hated. That bottle had been a present from his sister but he refused to drink it.
Looking at the folded note tucked under the edge of the bottle Gary knew it was a message.
Dropping his tired butt into one of the chairs he started to reach for the note.
His heart stopped sitting on the yellow paper was her rings. Not just the wedding band but her engagement ring too. His hand started shaking and the note took on the look of a poisonous viper. He jerked his hand back not able to pick it up.
Everything inside him that was a man screamed as it tore his heart out. She left, this can’t be but he saw it with his own eyes the suitcases and the kids and the dog all gone.
The sun finished going down and he just starred at the note and the rings. The final kick was that third ring, it was the prize he won her at the fair. The way it fit her finger was perfect and she liked it, well he thought she did.
Now the silence in the house was deafening. Leaving that crap for him to drink must have been her final joke to him but he wasn’t laughing. She walked away and the booze he hated the most must mean “I hate you” in woman speak. God she knew how to gut a man with a simple message.
Putting his head down on his folded arms he couldn’t bare to read her final “Screw-you” note. When every memory in his head started playing for him he started to cry.
If she wanted him to drink to her leaving then why the hell not. Breaking the seal he poured the thick nasty liquor into his cup. Slamming it down it seemed to claw all the way down his throat. Another then another and when this bottle is empty it’s going through the front window. He might even take a midnight ride but who gives ah shit now.
By the time the bottle was half empty he openly cursed and spit at the memories that flashed and were shattered. Scooping up the rings he flung them into the living room hearing them bouncing off the walls to god knows where.
Pouring another he now wanted to read what she said but his cloudy eyes couldn’t focus on the words as they wobbled on the paper as much as he did.
Morning found him on the floor with the crumpled note still in his hand.
“Baby couldn’t wait, scouts campout this weekend. Don’t forget to take my rings to Mr. Frizzenher, tell him to size them to the one from the fair. Kisses
P.S. His daughter says this is his favorite drink so take it to him for a Thank you.
C U later my boogieman, XOXO
* Hunting in the off-season
Four old guys are sitting in a bar in Alaska, drinking and listening to Merle Haggard.
A young girl from California strolls in with Peta written on her shirt. She asks the barkeeper, “May I have a Shirley Temple.”
He scowls, and with a voice that sounds as if it came from an old bullfrog, tells her, “We only serve whisky or beer.”
Disgusted with his response she then asks, “May I have a glass of wine?”
He shakes his head. A look of disdain washes over her as she then asks for a glass of water. The barkeeper begrudgingly gets her a glass of water.
The four old guys have stopped talking and quietly stare into the mirror behind the bar watching the girl walk through the place as if she owns it. She looks at all the trophies on the wall and spouts, “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves.”
One of the old guys turns around. “You should see the other room.”
The girl props one hand on her hip and walks around the corner to look into the pool table room. She sees nothing but Peta shirts hanging on the wall.
The other old guys turn around to look closely at the expression on her face.
“Don’t worry sweetheart, we only hunt to thin the herd nowadays.” *
* Every time it rains, I call home
It was quiet, not a single customer until he walked in.
“What can I get you tonight my friend?”
“Make it bourbon….neat and don’t go too far with the bottle. I plan on having a few.”
“Bourbon it is, what brings you out on a night like this?”
I set a snifter on the napkin in front of him. As I started pouring, the man twirled his finger indicating he wanted me to keep pouring until the glass was almost half-full.
“If you don’t mind me asking, if this is going to be your first one; did you drive here?”
“No I walked, been walking for hours but the rain started up again as I passed and all of a sudden a drink seemed to be a fitting conclusion for my night.”
Since there were no other customers in the place, I poured myself a cup of coffee and leaned on the bar near enough we could quietly talk without raising our voices too much.
“You and the little woman have words did you?”
“Yeah you might say that. She left a note on the table saying she was leaving me.”
“That’s a rough way to find out.”
“Oh, that’s not the best part. I came home early with flowers and found the note and her rings. She hadn’t finished packing and was still there.”
I took a drink of coffee so I wouldn’t need to say anything. So he continued.
“When I got back to the room she had a few suitcases on the bed throwing stuff in them as fast as she could. She had been crying and when she saw me, she looked terrified.”
The man took another sip of his drink and stared at the bottles behind the bar.
“The thing is, in eighteen years, never once have I ever given her a reason to be scared of me. I’m not one of those guys that swats on a woman. Oh, we’ve argued but I’ve never hit her so that look she gave me was like a kick in the gut.”
The rain battered against the roof. It served only to intensify the silence.
“I didn’t have a clue why she was leaving me but as I leaned on the doorframe and looked around I could tell she was going whether I wanted her to or not. My first reaction was to stop her but…..”
The man closed his eyes and rubbed his balding head with a callused hand. The stains of grease and oil had set so deep in his skin I would have known he was a mechanic even if he was in a suit. The scars and blisters told me this wasn’t a lazy man and his quiet words were a testament to his self-restraint. The hand he used to rub his head now guarded his mouth while he thought for a minute. After taking another drink, he pressed further into his story.
“When I asked her not to go she clenched her teeth and balled up like she was ready to fight. I’m not her jailer, or her father, if she wants to leave, I can’t stop her either. So I told her to take her time. I didn’t want her to get hurt by hurrying because I knew the weather was changing and the last thing she needs is to be rushing around on slick roads, mad and upset.”
That impressed me, this mans wife was leaving him and he was concerned for her safety. The man picked up his glass as if he were going to take another sip but set it back down and slid it away. He pulled out a twenty and set it on the bar.
“Will this cover the drink?”
“Let me get your change.”
“No you keep it.”
He turned on the barstool and started to head for the door. When he looked up a little redhead was standing there. Neither one of us heard her come in. She was soaked to the skin and her hair matted from the rain. Streaks of mascara ran down her face but she looked relieved to see him.
I moved to the other end of the room to let them have some privacy but I couldn’t help but watch. The man towered over the little woman, she had to be five foot nothing and he was at least six foot tall.
They never said a word to each other as far as I could tell but their eyes spoke volumes to. He stood in front of her but held himself humble. She had the look of regret in her eyes. He reached into his pocket and took out the rings he said she left on the note. She glanced at what he held and then back into his eyes almost too ashamed to take them.
The woman slipped the rings back on her finger and took his arm as they walked out together.
I looked at my wedding band then at my watch and reached for the phone. *
Design Dilemma 4.0 Code-Blue (Flash Fiction)
“Hello God, yes this is Howard from accounting. Could you meet me in the design lab Jerry is freaking out…..okay we’ll see you in about ten minutes.”
* * *
“Alright Jerry tell him what you told me but slow down and breath once in a while.”
“Well G, you sent over these two models. The A.D.A.M.-1 and the E.V.E.-1 and we programmed both of them exactly as you instructed. Because of the morality program, phase one with a life span of just shy of a thousand years will jump-start the population. Then here on the graph, you wanted to introduce the two-point-oh with a four-hundred year span. Then phase three, the two-hundred year model and finally, phase four, the four-point-oh with eighty-three, no eighty-six years.”
“What Jerry is trying to say is, with every new download we introduce, the morality program degrades. I’ve crunched the numbers and here when they figure out how to start eating right and exercising, they are out living their span.”
“Howard suggested I come up with a few, shall we say speed-bumps we can throw at em to slow them down. I dumbed-down this model and made him think he is better in bed than he really is. We came up with a potbelly, male pattern baldness, and sports.
On that one, after a few children, those droop and she stops lying about his performance. Oh, and I’ve tweaked the Mother-in-law program here and here.”
“Yes but this is the part we wanted your input on. We wanted you to reconsider plastic- surgery and, wait, Jerry show him page six. There in paragraph seven…. Will you zap that dirt-bag before he invents that damned blue pill, it’s screwing up all the stats…no pun intended.”
* Pray for Justice
My last confession? Father, I’m not even Catholic. I’ve just never talked about it and thought that for once I would tell someone. With you being a priest and all, I knew you fellows swore an oath to keep these things a secret.
Well, first time I killed a man for money was my fourteenth birthday. Now I’d robbed guys and popped them because they gave me a hassle, you know, just to shut-em up. The worst is some broad that doesn’t want to give up her rings. Talk about mouthy, and boo-hoo, my grandmother gave this to me. Well kiss my ass, they should’ve just slipped it off their finger and I would have left them alone.
Well, I hooked up with this guy, that knew a guy, that knew a guy, you know how it is. He started slipping my buddy- hope you don’t mind if I don’t use his name because he is the type that may come to see you Fathers himself. I’ll just call him “B.”
B, started handing me envelopes with a shit-load of cash and all I had to do is tap some guy and I had more bread than I could spend. We thinned out the neighborhood of all the competition and undesirable elements. I even did a few, out of town jobs, but the secret is don’t fly, there are cameras everywhere and that’s how they end up catching you.
As things do, business slowed down so we branched into contracts to help the common guy, the everyday John-Q- nobody, that couldn’t get justice. But only for the bad stuff, you know how it is.
Oh and every now and then the cops will stop and frisk ya for weapons. So I made this zip-gum from a .357 barrel that I can hide in my sleeve. Them dummies are looking for a cannon in your belt and its tucked in a sweat band on my wrist. Here let me show you, see, right here. All I gotta do is wear long sleeves, and see you’d never know.
Well, B hands me an envelope and along with the cash is this letter from this sixteen year old girl. Come to find out she didn’t have any money, B told her he’d handle things and so he paid me.
In the letter, she tells me how this asshole has been raping her since she was a kid and she can’t take it any more. Guess who she said was doing it. One more thing, I also found out you ain’t even a priest. You killed him and took his place. The reason I know is, that buddy of mine, B, well that was his uncle and you ain’t him.
Now don’t make a fuss, just put your hands up here on the ledge like you’re praying. And say a few words if you want because you’re gonna be seeing him or the other guy in a minute. Oh, one more thing, if I want to catch the L-Line after, do I go left or right when I leave here? *
I really loved reading your blog. It was very well written and simple to undertand. Unlike additional blogs I have read. I also found it very interesting. In fact after reading, I had to go show the spouse and she ejoyed it as well!