I would not calumny Jim Fradering’s good name with the accusation that he could cook. He couldn’t. Jim’s idea of a meal not prepared by some other body was deli ham, mayonnaise, and white bread. In camp he had been known to boil eggs that gnawed like rubber, tasted like iron sulfide, and could be … Continue reading Jim’s Ham and Eggs
Category: flash fiction
Denny and the ADA
The waiting area for flight Delta 3332 was absolutely mobbed. It was standing room only. There were squalling kids, frazzled mothers, and fathers so deeply in denial they were either nose deep into Red October or scanning the flesh. There were the usual assortment of business travelers, leaning over the laptops proped on their knees, … Continue reading Denny and the ADA
On the Seventh Day
Eric was frosted. The new young Bishop had not asked him to narrate the Christmas program. For the first time in twenty-seven years, the Bishop had not called on him, with his trained voice, to read the verses of Luke and introduce the Elders, the women, and the children each in their turn. For the … Continue reading On the Seventh Day
A December Twenty-First Argument
“It’s the Win’er’s Solice today,” Bert Osburned said. “I think. Isn’t it?” He pulled his heavy brows down over his little eyes, a serious frown, which is about the way he made all his proclamations. He wore a wide brim hat and scuffed boots and had been a history teacher at the high school. Since … Continue reading A December Twenty-First Argument
Nine out of Eleven Connections are not so Good.
Gale Vasher was pretty tired. He was tired of work, he was tired of airports and airplanes, he was tired of the na na na na of meetings that never got anything done, and he was just plain tired. Gale Vasher wanted to get home, finish a week of reports and analysis of na na … Continue reading Nine out of Eleven Connections are not so Good.
The Promises of Another Day
Ira pulled the door to Jean’s apartment closed. He had spent the last three nights trying to sleep on her couch. Davy, her brother, was in her spare room. Ira was an old man, and had expected to die before any of his children. What little hope he had of that was gone. Jean was … Continue reading The Promises of Another Day
Ike Pleads the Fifth
Judge Ira Pottsdinger was not happy, he was a man of Justice. Mercy was an afterthought. A day without a conviction was a day when hell froze over for Judge Ira Pottsdinger. “What the hell (he was going to say ‘fuck’ but Defense was a woman, and so he was in mixed company) do you … Continue reading Ike Pleads the Fifth
Midge and Ike on the Lam
“Zip it,” Midge always said. “Zip it kid, or you’re gonna die.” And she would mug what she meant by zipping her thumb and forefinger across her grim lips. "Zip." So this is exactly what Ike did. He zipped it. He was eight years old at the time and figured that zipping it was his … Continue reading Midge and Ike on the Lam
The Nature of Josiah Smith
In the spring OC arrived to see how “the fool’d wintered.” He found an empty cabin with the diary open on the rough log bench to a page dated February 12. The entry was, “The onliest hunt that matters is a man hunt. Going hunting.”
A Day Too Cold for Goat
Sometimes I wish I never opened that parcel that mom gave me for Halloween. So, I was glad to see the way it was on Sunday. It was gray and cold all day. The wind was cold. It shook the trailer and scratched the branch of the dead cottonwood back and forth across the window. … Continue reading A Day Too Cold for Goat
