Friday, October 31, 2025

A Neighborly Competition

It started four years ago as an un-declared competition between my new neighbor Fred and me. I was never the competitive type, but seeing his Halloween decorations lit a spark in me. The fact I didn’t much like Fred and his “I’m better than you are attitude” provided another reason.


The first year my display was small, just a few plastic tombstones with funny sayings. A single strand of orange lights outlined the tops of the shrubs. The next year Fred and I doubled the number of items and drew the attention of our neighbors and their friends. Of course, the kids still liked the candy best. 


Last year the event turned into a community competition, with the addition of orange and purple lights outlining every available surface on most of the houses along Trippet Street. Yards crammed full of spooky characters completed the displays. Robotic witches that cackled when someone walked by were especially entertaining.


Fred had a final addition he said would make his display the best ever. What was his grand surprise? Fireworks, which explains the three firetrucks, two cop cars, and ambulance blocking the street. It’a also why my roof is on fire. 


Fred spent the night in jail. He, along with the rest of us, didn’t know rocket-style fireworks were illegal in populated areas. It didn’t help his cause that he drank more than his share of beer and bloodied a policeman’s nose. The saddest part for me was Fred missing my display winning the prize for Best in Neighborhood. I guess I wasn’t the only one who didn’t much like Fred.


Thursday, October 9, 2025

Francisco’s Last Party

First published in Suddenly and Without Warning

Two Years Ago


Rachel heard the noise from the party as she stepped off the elevator. She’d forgotten the bi-monthly event had been switched from Saturday to Friday, due to Saturday being Christmas Eve. This party was special, not because of the holiday, but because Francisco—his real name Frank—had sold three paintings for a six-figure payday. She opened the door to their condo and felt her shoulders relax. A smile traversed her face. She hung her coat on the fake copper hat tree and began unbuttoning her blouse. She would soon forget her crappy day at work.

One Year Ago


Rachel stepped off the elevator, forgetting the day of the bi-monthly party had been switched, due to the regular date conflicting with Christmas Eve. The sounds of the revelers in her condo were more than she could handle tonight. Work had been a bitch, and no amount of partying would change that. She slipped quietly into the foyer, hung her coat on the fake copper hat tree, and tiptoed to the master bedroom, almost knocking Francisco’s bowling trophy—from high school—off the fireplace mantel. She put on her noise-cancelling headphones and queued up Ravel’s “Pavane pour une infante défunte.” She closed her eyes but couldn’t sleep, wondering when Francisco-—his real name Frank—would finally realize there wasn’t enough money for the rent, food, his expensive taste in cars, and these juvenile parties. If only he’d start painting again.

Today


Rachel hovered over Francisco—his real name Frank—his head resting on the carpet. He’d promised to cease his garish lifestyle after they married. She’d arrived home a day early from her business trip to Los Angeles—before Francisco had finished cleaning up from last night’s party. Now the blood puddle, his head, and the Merlot stain on the plush, grey carpet formed a perfect Venn Diagram. Rachel continued to stare at what might have made a perfect painting for Francisco. Finally, she dropped the trophy on the floor, skipped the eulogy, and walked out of their condo for the last time.


Friday, August 8, 2025

Alone Time

Jacob knew better than to rock climb alone. His usual partner, Martha, was out of town attending a business meeting with their boss. Jacob couldn’t help but wonder if Martha was banging the boss. He tried to push the thought out of his mind. He didn’t need the distraction, especially since this particular cliff was tricky. Falling was a possibility, even for a climber of his ability.

He found a toe hold sufficient to allow him to continue his ascent when his boss’s image invaded Jacob’s thoughts. He handed Joseph a bundle of papers in an accordion folder. “I’d like you to prepare and deliver a presentation for the senior staff.” Jacob wondered if this was a way for the boss to justify taking Martha with him to Vegas.  He decided one decision had nothing to do with the other. Just as he felt more secure, he lost his toehold and began to fall.

He regained his balance and continued his ascent. His mind perked up when he heard a voice. A female. One he thought he knew. Martha? Wishing him luck? Laughing at him?

He looked up for his next perch when the wall groaned and opened a schism in the mountain side. He pushed off to get around the opening, but it moved with him. The gap increased and so did the number of voices, some speaking in languages other than English.

Jacob looked down hoping for a miracle as the wall continued to open so that only his toes were touching the moss-covered rock. He flexed his knees preparing for one last lunge but was sucked inside the wall and held in place until the gap closed. 

The interior made Jacob think of a womb, warm, non-threatening. He also saw the source of the voice he’d heard. “Mom?”

“Welcome home.”

Wednesday, July 9, 2025

My Friend

First published in Flash Phantoms.

Binky’s Bar was full of grown, yet still adolescent, men. The smells of sweat and garlic pizza permeated the darkness. A jukebox struggled to be heard. Once acclimated, I turned my attention to the young woman sitting at the bar. Auburn hair capped a gentle face. The voice in my head named her Queen Bee for the way the nearby drones swarmed around her. I wanted to ask her out, but I couldn’t. I had to bury the twins first. I’d planned to do that right away, while they were still warm. My friend wouldn’t let me. Damn my friend.


Tuesday, July 8, 2025

OOPS!

 A post went out earlier today stating this site is no longer being updated. This not the case. This site is, and will remain, active. You can expect new stories over the next few days.


Thanks for you patience.

Jim