Wednesday, August 16, 2017


        Chancellor Beaumont buttoned his doublet as he bowed before the queen.  She’d sent for him in the middle of the night, once again. “I came as quickly as I could, Your Majesty.”
        “You prig. Go to hell.”
        “As you wish, Your Majesty.” Impervious to her abuse, he spun on his heel and started for the door.
        “Come back, idiot. I need your help.”
        His smirk turned into a confident smile. “I’m at your service, my queen.”
        She glared at him. “The king has taken a mistress. Did you know that?”
        Chancellor Beaumont nodded. “The rascal.”
        “What poisons do you have?”

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Beauty Dreams

        Jenny had wanted to be a cosmetologist ever since she was eight years old. She’d experiment with her own hair, recreating the styles the movie stars wore. In high school, she changed her hair color from dull brown to deep auburn and then to bubblegum pink. Her color matched her mood.
        Now at beauty college, her dreams were coming true. Until today.
        “I want a beachy cut,” the woman said. “Heard of it? Or is that beyond you?”
        Jenny used a razor and then rubbed in gel. She’d made a poor job of hiding the damage.
        Beachy for the bitchy.

Wednesday, August 2, 2017

No Surprise

        Jeremy sat in the metal chair, feeling claustrophobic in the small interrogation room. The investigator sat across the table from him, browsing through a file folder of papers. 
        Finally, he looked up. “I’m not really surprised that you murdered him.”
        “I didn’t. He was my boss.”
        “Robert Compton had a criminal record. Everything from drunk in public to vehicular manslaughter.”
        “That’s why he never drove.” Jeremy wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. “I took him everywhere.”
        “Where did you take him last Saturday night?”
        “The airport. He stopped for a drink first.”
        The policeman leaned back, chuckling. “Of poison?”


Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Who is it?

        The life of an assassin isn’t easy. I’m always on the run After a while, all the hotel rooms look alike—ground floor, cheerless modern.
        When my latest assignment came in an encrypted email message, I slumped down in the chair. Ricardo Perez, the Mexican gang lord, had resurfaced in Cancun.
        I was sad to see that he still existed. We’d crossed paths before. Why didn’t he stay dead?
        Someone knocked at the door, and I closed the laptop. “Who is it?”
        “Room service.” The accent was Spanish.
        “Adios, amigo.” I grabbed my gun and jumped out the window.

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Vampires vs. Zombies

          “That’s enough of that!” Alison Higley thumbed the remote and turned off the TV.    
        “What didja do that for, Mom?” Jayden asked. He lay on the floor with his head propped on a couch pillow.
        She reached for her ipad. “I don’t want you to watch zombies.”
        “They’re funny. All the kids watch this show.”
         “Zombies are disgusting.” She swiped the screen.
        “You watch vampires.”
        “They’re different.”
        “They drink blood. Yuck!”
        She looked at her son. “Zombies eat brains. They’ve done frightful things.”
         “Zombies are make-believe.”
        She laughed. “And vampires aren’t?”
        “Justin Bieber’s a vampire. You said he sucked.”

Let’s read what the others wrote with this prompt:

Wednesday, July 12, 2017

Scientific Excuse

        The men in white lab coats crowded around Jeremy, peering over his shoulders at the computer screen.
        He sat with itchy fingers on the mouse. “It’s bad,” he said. “The data doesn’t prove our theory.”
        One of the scientists adjusted his glasses. “It worked the last time. What should we do?”
        “We’ll lose funding,” another man said. “There goes my job.”
        “It’s a simple fix,” Jeremy said. He pressed delete.
        “What did you just do?”
        “The data’s gone. A computer malfunction. We’ll have to start over.”
        “That’s unethical.”
        Jeremy smiled. “If we stick to the story, they can’t prove anything.” 

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Loud Mouth

This flash fiction is a little late. The prompt: It was as if she didn't understand the concept of "shut up."

        The zookeeper’s day began before dawn, but the birds were already active in the free-flight aviary. Blue and gold macaws, bright yellow parakeets, and white cockatoos darted among the branches. The loudest bird was Gabby, a green Amazon parrot.
        She had become the zookeeper’s favorite, squawking to greet him each morning.
         “Shut up!” he’d yell.
        And she answered back, “Shut up!” It was as if she didn’t understand the concept of “shut up.”
        This morning the zookeeper had woken up with a headache. He yelled, “Be quiet!” and waited, expecting Gabby to mimic his words.
        Finally, she answered, “Shut up!”