Out of breath after barely catching the bus, I looked for a seat. Being a haole, no alohas were found in the faces of the Islanders – except his. Mine said mahalo as I sat. I told him my divorce was new; that in the end my ex saw me as poke and I saw…
Category: fiction
#FFFC 65 — Origin
The assembled team had been following clues across terrains on continents for a decade. The virus had decimated two-thirds of the human population. All attempts to build a vaccine failed as more died. Consensus was reached that the origin of the virus needed to be found. The rumor it was in some open air market…
Finish The Story — The House on Clearwater Lake
Jim Adams has tagged me to write a chapter on Teresa Grabs’ fun challenge, Finish The Story. ________________________________________ Here’s how Teresa kicked things off. A house sat perched precariously on the edge of Clearwater Lake. It was a house that should not have stood, yet stand it did. It had been there for centuries and…
What do you see # 28 — With you every day
An innocent victim of a drive-by shooting, he’d been in a coma for six months. Attached to intravenous drips, a ventilator, a catheter, with various electrodes attached to monitor his life functions, the twenty-year-old Rafael, to all eyes, professional and personal, looked like inert material that needed to be cared for in the coma unit…
#FF — Mysterious Disappearance
Mysterious Disappearance After 10,000 Earth years since the last visit, today was Earth’s turn. The Angelic Scientific Krew (ASK) chattered happily (telepathically) at how good the planet looked. Clean skies and water, lush vegetation of all kinds, and a full complement of fauna — but curiously no humans. It was surprising, as humans had a…
What do you see # 27 — Surprise
Surprise At 102 years old, the best part of her day was sitting on the warm wooden bench, in the sun, watching the wind ruffle the water’s surface and rustle through the oak and willow trees. Her sons and their wives, now in their 70’s, joined her a couple of times a week at the…
#FF — For the first time
I’d allowed myself to be talked into attending the farce of a wedding, then reception. The dunce cap napkins said it all. Everyone knew Melinda’s marital pattern of marriage-to-millionaire followed by unfortunate-death-of-groom, then whirlwind-romance-leading-to-engagement-with-next-rich-dupe. She forgot what number Harold was: 4? 5? Even my hard-boiled cynicism couldn’t ignore how Melinda and Harold looked at and…
