COCOA FIERCE & THE PANTYHOSE STRANGLER by Sean C. Wright-Neeley

1977
He drove to a secluded, leafy spot, and looked at Cocoa covertly when they stopped. She patted her blonde wig, contrasting her chocolate skin, and popped her gum, pretending not to notice him pulling out a pair of nylons. Cocoa slammed his head against the steering wheel before he could act. He was out cold. Cocoa handcuffed him to the steering wheel. Vice arrested The Pantyhose Strangler. However, his car remains where he intended to assault and kill his fourth prostitute.

Continue reading “COCOA FIERCE & THE PANTYHOSE STRANGLER by Sean C. Wright-Neeley”
Advertisements

There’s a story here somewhere…


This abandoned car is oh, I don’t know, maybe a half mile or so from my humble yet lovely abode and it’s been parked right there for as long as I’ve lived in my said humble yet lovely abode, which has been oh, I don’t know, maybe eighteen years or so.

Every time I pass the beautiful, wabi-sabi of a relic on one of my walks, I always think to myself, I bet there’s a heck of story to go along with that thing…

And I also always tell myself that one of these days Ima gonna write my own story about it.

Continue reading “There’s a story here somewhere…”

A Poem Illicit by Cindy Knoke

The popular photographer and poet Cindy Knoke wrote us a poem in response to our ongoing flash fiction contest (which ends at midnight tonight so go vote for your favorite story!). Unfortunately, per the fine print of the contest rules, only flash fiction responses meeting the stated criteria will be accepted. All other responses are to be deleted. Yeah, I get down like that. However, reading Cindy’s poem felt to me like listening to a Tom Waits song and if anyone knows me they know I have a huge man crush on Tom. No way I could abandon her poem to a trash can death. So instead I share it here with you where it can shimmy and shake for all eternity as a special supplement to our weekly Sunday Song to Spark the Spirit and Summon the Moves of the Dance…

Continue reading “A Poem Illicit by Cindy Knoke”

NEW RELEASE

LEAVE: And Other Stories Short and Shorter

I’m happy to announce the release of my fifth book, a short story collection entitled: LEAVE: And Other Stories Short and Shorter.

Within the collection, there are 30 stories new and old. Some are short in length as are traditional short stories, and some are shorter in length, as are the more contemporary flash fiction stories. Some were written as recently as this past winter; others, as long ago as the early ’90s. Many have been published previously on my website and other places, but there are several new stories that have not yet been released until now.

Continue reading “NEW RELEASE”

WRITE EDIT WRITE: Flash Fiction by Author Pam Schloesser-Canepa

WEW Facebook Ad-1200x299
Last week I announced that we were starting a private Facebook group for Writers and Readers called WRITE EDIT WRITE. Well I am happy to say that we have had a great response to the announcement and our group includes a growing host of active and creative members. And while we’re still getting situated and figuring things out, we have held our very first WEW CHALLENGE, a challenge where members were asked to post a 250-word or less flash fiction or flash essay. I am again happy to say we had a fantastic response, with the following selection being representative of the fine writing being exhibited by all.

To read all the submissions, visit here.
To learn more about the private group, visit here.

Please check out the writing and stop by the authors’ websites to show them your support.

Write on!



THE POST OFFICE BOX
by Pam Schloesser-Canepa
pamelascanepa.wordpress.com

Tussling with the dog. That was Jasmine’s story, this time. The scar would dissipate in a week, she knew. It did hurt. This was so unfair, yet, all too familiar.

Driving to work, Jasmine noticed she’d inadvertently put on one navy blue shoe and one black. An understandable mistake; they were almost identical, and those colors were close. I wonder if anyone will notice? She realized the light had turned. I sure don’t need a ticket.

To her left was the post office. Darn, I forgot that electric bill. Rick will lose it. Do I go back? She worried it might make her late, yet she didn’t need one more fight about the mail.

Her thoughts drifted to the invitation that had arrived the week before, for her ten year high school reunion. Of course, with a four month old baby and a full-time job, she hadn’t seriously considered. Still, she had thought of going.

“You just want to see all your old boyfriends! You wench!” Rick had screamed, holding the baby in his arms.

“No, Rick, don’t worry, I don’t need to go.” That’s how it always went. Keeping the peace. When she never received any in return.

Abruptly, she pulled into the post office. “I need a post office box,” she announced to the clerk. JUST for me.

With receipt of the key, she found the assigned box. It was cool inside. She imagined fitting inside of it, this doorway to distant places.


So, about that newsletter of mine…

Have you had a chance to check out what’s going on with Newsletter Love lately? We recently announced that we will be sending out 2015 in style, meaning me sharing your poetry and other writing via the newsletter on New Year’s Eve and with a selected few being published right here on the blog as my first post for 2016.

So check it out, subscribe, and help us send 2015 out in poetic style.

Right on?

Write on!

 
 

The Man Crossing Lombard Street… Selection

– randomwordbyruth wins the Make Kurt Scratch His In Complete Befuddlement As He Tries to Comprehend the Linkage Between the Story and the Prompt award.

– Josh Wrenn comes in with another powerful submission. Josh’s story is set up perfectly in both tone and pace. I loved all the unknowns, especially the unknown of why all of a sudden the San Franciscans turned on the lonely man. I only wish it would have ended right after the unknown lonely man purchased the rope. For after that, everything becomes known and a bit too trite for me with the play on the Beatles song. I say this not to be publicly critical, but to publicly express how great I think the story is and to strongly urge Josh to consider submitting his story, after taking my public feedback under consideration, to a literary journal. Congratulations, Josh, on yet another fine piece of work.

Which takes us lastly to our first submission…

It is my pleasure to present to you tonight’s Flash Fiction Friday selection, which is yet another well written, powerful submission and one that is selected despite it implicating yours truly in a Big Brother role of sort. In fact, it just may have been selected for that spot-on implication because its presence is really felt and it adds a heavy layer of paranoia and wonderful creepiness to the story that might not otherwise have been there. The dialogue is perfect and the story is completely relevant to our times. Bravo, karen.


THE MAN CROSSING LOMBARD STREET
by karen rawson

“People oughta mind their own business, I say.” Henry raised a curled fist to his mouth and coughed into it.

“What people, Mr. Schmoll?”

“Them. Those people.”

“I see. Can you take a deep breath for me?”

Henry wheezed and brought up a rattling breath. Dr. Redmond tipped her head, listening. Congestion, for sure. But there was something strange in there. “How long have you had that cough, Mr. Schmoll?”

“Aw. I dunno.” He heaved and cleared his throat. “Awhile. That ain’t why I’m here. It’s the internet people. They’re bugging me.”

Dr. Redmond pulled back and eyed him. “What internet people?”

“The people! All the people, watching me. Writing stuff down. All the way down Lombard. Watching me. Goddamn people. They oughta mind their own business.”

“I see. And how long has this been the case?”

“Aw jeez. Aw jeez.” Henry shook one leg, pounded a fist on it. “Goddamn. Someone just wrote me a war injury. I wasn’t even in the war.”

The doctor took another step back. “Someone wrote you a war injury?”

“They say I live alone! I don’t live alone. I got family.”

The doctor backed to the door and reached back for the knob. “Mr. Schmoll, I’m going to consult another physician on this. Can you just sit tight until I’m back?”

Henry blanched and curled an arm around his stomach. “Okay then. But hurry. Someone just wrote me a bad case of indigestion. If you don’t hurry up, those goddamn people gonna write me to my grave.”

karcherry.wordpress.com


Thank you, Authors, for sharing your fine skills with us. Have a fantastic weekend.

 
 

It’s Only “Weird” If… [Weird Wednesday Prompt]

I like those beer commercials that were airing a couple years ago about how it was only weird if it didn’t work.

If that isn’t one of the most true and profound beer commercials in the history of beer commercials then I don’t know what is…

I mean, if we do something strange or have a less than normal personality, then we are automatically labeled as weird. But have someone rich and/or famous exhibit the same behavior then it immediately goes from not working and being weird to working and being, you guessed it, eccentric.

Eccentric… What every weirdo strives to become.

Imagine an average joe* walking down, not the red carpet, but the average city street in a dress made of meat… I doubt the eccentric defense will work well with the average city cop.

Yet another example of the long, hard, enduring struggle between the classes…

But if you think about it, weird ain’t easy to do. It’s hard to go against the grain, against convention. Normal is so easy, welcoming. We’ve been doing normal for most of our lives and it now is hard not to do it.

Don’t get me wrong, normal is cool. Whoever invented it was a genius – and I suspect female – for how else to get us stupid men from bashing in each other’s stupid heads with clubs and rocks and whatever else we could get our hands on than to create a system where such behavior is strange, odd – not normal.

So I’m all in for normal, while knowing very well that weird is where the action is.

So, for today’s Weird Wednesday prompt…

Put together something – a poem, an essay, flash fiction, a drawing, whatever – stream of consciousness perhaps, whatever – something less than normal, something against convention, but something that, at least in your mind, is normal and as conventional – and preferable, enlightening to all – as can be.

My guess is, it won’t be easy…

And I suspect Josh Wrenn, the author of yesterday’s Tanka Tuesday selection, just may be tapping into some of that brandy he waxed so poetically about for some weird inspiration.
 

*non-gender specific


This may explain things a bit.
Submissions close at 7PMish.
Selection posted some time after…

 
 

Rub-a-dub-dub?! [Flash Fiction Friday Selection]

Ha ha…what more can I say about the two submissions in response to today’s prompt other than they both are frikkin’ awesome and just the bizarre fun and wonder I was hoping for. The only problem is having to choose one over the other.

I had pretty much resolved myself to the international standard selection process of the Flipping of the Coin to let Chance decide. However, right before the flip, as the coined balanced precariously on my thumb, I manned* up, so to speak, and decided that I would not choose my selection by such a cop-out of a way.

The selection had to be up to me not a coin. I had to find a way to differentiate between the two. So I got to thinking about what if it were me writing a response to the prompt. Which response would I be more likely to write – the humorous or the macabre? Yeah, you guessed it, I probably would have gone dark with this one.

Consequently, it is my pleasure to present to you…


THREE MEN IN A BLOODY TUB
by Josh Wrenn

England:

Detectives are baffled by findings of human remains found floating in the Channel. All of the dead were cut into pieces, but meticulously scrubbed clean of blood, fingerprints, and other evidence.

Lead Detective Jeff Murdock would not confirm the rumors that there is a serial killer on the loose, but did confirm that there are multiple victims.

Anonymous sources within the department tell BBC News that they believe there are at least two victims who were dismembered, cleaned, and then dumped into the Channel.

BBC News has also learned that a task force dubbed “The Butcher” has been set up within the department but has been unable to determine whether it is related to this case. We have also learned that at least one witness may have been brought in for questioning by the task force.

In other news:
The families of Westham’s famous Candlestick Maker, and his friend and world-renowned Baker are asking the public for assistance in finding the two men, who never returned home after a fishing trip. Anyone who knows anything about their whereabouts is asked to call 111.
 

myfridayblog.wordpress.com


 

Thank you very much Doug and Josh for your awesome stories. If either of you would like a digital copy of one of my selections at Amazon, please contact me through the Contact page and let me know.

And thank you to all who joined in the fun and took the time to “Like” the selections for yourself. You all, too, are frikkin’ awesome.

Until tomorrow…
 

*non-gender specific

 
 

Rub-a-dub-dub?! [Flash Fiction Friday Prompt]

You know, some of our fairy tales and nursery rhymes can really make one wonder. Well, at least they make me wonder. For instance, I really wonder what the heck the impetus was for the creation of Three Men in a Tub.

Rub-a-dub-dub,
Three men in a tub,
And who do you think they were?
The butcher, the baker,
The candlestick-maker,
They all sailed out to sea,
‘Twas enough to make a man stare.

Weird.

But weird is cool because with it there often comes such wonderful possibilities. Such as the all the possibilities for the development of interesting back stories that bring light to such an odd, interesting poem.

And that weird also brings with it the possibility for today’s Flash Fiction Friday prompt.

Write a 750 word or less fully developed story that includes who the butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker are, what their relationship with each other is, and the events and plot lines that lead up to and conclude right before the famous and oft-recited nursery rhyme begins.

Cool?
Cool.

A couple of logistical notes before we begin. I ask that henceforth all submissions for daily prompts be in by 7PMish each evening. That way I’ll have time to read through them and publish the selection by 8PMish.

And I also ask that there be no comments or other responses to the prompts other than prompt submissions. While I always love to hear from you, as witty and interesting and smart as you are, responses other than ones to the prompt kinda muddles things up a bit and will be deleted. Sorry ’bout that.

Cool?
Cool.


This is germane.