The View


The powerhouse was abandoned years ago.  The smokestacks rises over the small buildings   The legend of what happened here grows with each generation.

Today,  a camera crew has come.  The plant in it’s prime couldn’t power the gadgets set to explore it’s mysteries.   Legends and ghosts die hard.  When they intertwine. .. they are immortal.   Three people fell from the stairs, coming down.   All looked like they were pushed.   Adeia was sacred land to Huron tribe centuries ago.   They were pushed off the land.

Electro Magnetic Kinetics have overrun the place.   Spikes of energy light up the buildings.   The experts all have theories.   And teams that do their work.

Stephen Malik was coordinator here. His tv series ruled Wednesday. Light flashes, voice enhancements, knocks, telekinesis, you name it, week in week out. This was big! A ratings killer.

Junkana, last full blood Huron, came. Sacred land was bring honored (on camera). His concern was Indian grave yard run amuck. His people weren’t savages. Curses didn’t come from them.

The crew sets up first trading at top of stairs. Stephen smiles, described the view. Turns to Junkana, asks about Huron grave yard. Flying forward Stephen falls off staircase to death, 75 feet below. Junkana explains the ghost had Shawnee war paint.

The ratings are killer.


As Sure as the Sun – Sunday Photo Fiction

The Sunday sounds come streaming in window.  Birds calls replace car noise.   Sylvia’s wall of sleep tumbles as movement crosses her left leg.  Bojangles, a calico colored wildly outside the lines, parks between her shoulder blades.   Waking up she sees across George sits Major, a black German Shepard inching closer to bed. 

Turning over Sylvia notices the clock reads 4:46.  “Oh god, we slept all day”

Major knows Sunday is paper day, car ride and walking George in the park. 

Every clock is different but all seen off.   Sylvia searched for why it looks like morning but feels afternoon.

“Dad’s watch says 9:52.   Old watch never loses time. Power went out”  George taking Major

The corner store, the dog friendly keeper of news print.  Today it’s closed.   The guy points at sign.  The watch says 10:25.

Across from beach, George grabs paper. 
At the beach, no-one is there.  Major is thrilled.  George let’s him run off leash.  George watches the sky,  Clouds building and moving in from the east.  Off for the time of year.  He turns to see a man in silver jacket with fedora hat.  His face is blurred.  

“Have you got the time?”  Mr silver asks.

“It’s 10:46.” George replies.

“Oh it’s 5:46.   Sure as the Sun sets in the East” the man fades.

When the Vulture Comes


The big brown Chevy Blazer growls turning in the driveway.   It’s lack of muffler and coming to a sputtering stop emphasize his arrival.  The body appears to be held together by rust alone. Groaning open the doors reveal two polar opposite people. 

One barely five feet and hundred pounds, Peggy looks rough by most people’s standards. Her black hair and eyes set back on her.   The other, Russell wearing grimy jeans and wife beater t-shirt.  Huge man weighing 300 pounds and six five tall, ill-kept in clothes and grooming.  They look to the house then each other.   Her tiny hand disappears in his as they drag themselves to the front door.

Julian waits for them. He gives Peggy a big hug. It’s been weeks since she was over.  Day before Celeste’s accident.  

“It’s so good to see you,  both of you guys.   I’m going crazy here.   Not many visitors been by.   Come in. I’ll grab beers.”

Russell and Peggy look him over.  Then follow him inside a small dark house.   The door opens to stairway that splits the house, kitchen to left,  and living room to right.  The living room is a disaster.   Boxes, papers and clutter fill a small room.   The open window does little to move the stale air.  Russell sinks into a recliner. Peggy stands by table with glass characters lined up like soliders marching.

“Julian, I miss her everyday.   You know she has just started selling these. …”crying steals her breath.

Julian appears with beers in hand.  “Honey, she was happiest with her things. You know it was all collectables.   It made her happy.”

“You miss her, don’t you,  Julian” Russell isn’t really asking but telling him. “I mean if that happened to Peggy, I’d kill someone.”

“Big guy,  It’s different when it happens.   You think it will be ok and it’s not.” Julian has lost touch with Russell toying with him.   Russell wants him to know he’s aware of what he did. He’s half believing maybe it was a  accident.   Playing the part of shatter spouse isn’t his best role.

“Son of a bitch!  Look out that window!  Buzzards, walking in your yard.   Watch yourself Julian!  That’s a sign.”  Russell wags his giant mitt toward the scene.

“Julian, come over tomorrow. We’ll bbq.  I’m not gonna stay long, can’t. Hope you understand.”  Peggy’s voice had no life to it.

They quickly drink up and leave.   Julian and his thoughts.   Outside the window fills with a dozen buzzards in the yard.   It’s disturbing.   Not as much as the faint cigarette smoke that drifts through the room.   The house had no smokers in it at one time.   As the smell hits his nose, a fireplace poker strikes the back of his thighs.

“I’m gonna kill you.  I’d beat you until this poker has the outline of your face.   What’s left of your face.  I’ll teach you how you kill someone alright! Do you understand me?!”  Jimmie looking much like the mad man. Looking down on Julian ready to make good on his words.

“Jimmie, whoa. Hang on.  I got your money.  You chaaanged it on me.  I dddidddn’t have itttt then.   Youu was gonna cut me up man!” His eyes are shaking, his voice is quaking.  The pain in his legs keeps him on the ground.   Or the pain he’ll receive if he gets up.

“I’ll get my money.   Not the two grand, but five grand!  You was getting ten thousand, I got my share. But you thieving bastard. .. It was twenty-five.   My cut was with more.   Then you shot me, you piece of shit! “Swinging the poker hard on his chest.  “You’ll pay.   You’ll not know the day or time.  First off, if you don’t have it all.  Consider broken bones.   The difference in money is the number of bones.  Do you understand me clearly?” Striking him four more times on the chest making his ribs black from bruises and cracks.

“Julian, you can’t go to the police. Your a murderer.  They’ll fry you in a chair.   You might want that afterall is said and done.   Get my money.   I’m gonna think of your last day.   I’ll check my schedule and find a convenient time for us both.” Jimmie’s smile is evil.

He’s reaching out to help him up.  Jimmie follows Julian to a closet.  With the poker raised over Julian’s head, Jimmie let’s him open the door.  Julian hands him backpack.

“It’s six thousand.   More than the extra cut.   I’m gonna lay down, try  breathing, wait to die you know.”  Another poker strike to the legs and he’s laying down.  The vulture was gone.

More pieces of puzzle

Finish It #16 Things That Get Bumped in the Night


She knew she’d hit something. But what? She saw the shade suddenly jumping or running right in front of her car. Oh no! Her heart was racing while she got out of the car. Maybe it was just her imagination. Maybe it was the fog and the darkness setting in. Maybe she did not hit anything. Maybe it was just the fog. But she felt it too. She slowly made her way to the front of the car. And then her heart froze. There it was.

It’s her first new car. The damage is just awful. Her silver arrow more had a broken noise! Julia must figure out how to explain this. Her new baby crushed.

She screamed once, then twice. Stomped her three inch heels, snapping one in the process.

“Oh Julia. We talked about you getting that car. I thought it was too much power for you. I’m so glad you didn’t kill yourself. ..” She mocked the voice that would tell her how bad it was. She cried a little. Uttered some more semi coherent phases. She once more limped around here vehicle on one broken heel
She kicked the object responsible. Then again. Then again.

“Aaaahhhhh, my shoes are ruined. My car is ruined. What is wrong with you?!” She terse voice looks for something to blame here.

“Ok calm down Julia. You got to call. Get it over with. He’ll come get you. Make you feel loosy about it. Then he’ll fix the GOD DAMN PIECE OF SHIT CAR!” Talking to herself on isn’t working. But the echo from the other side of fog is. The echo chides her as well.

The Baxter freeway. Road to nowhere. Expressway to avoid everyone. Here she sits. Staring at broken car. One person there. It’s really quiet. Because there’s no cell phone service.

Gulp. The body in front of the car is no longer in front of the car. Julia thinks to herself. Maybe it wasn’t an animal at all. That’s right it’s a shadow. Could of been a deer. … bounced off to the side. It happen fast. Surely nothing could have walked off with the damage to the car.

The fog that was thick parts showing the rock wall keeping cars from falling down forty foot drop. Tree tops stand very dirty on front of her. The full moon casts their shadow at her. The birds of fog dance in the moon’s glow.

“It would be so beautiful. ….”

Her thoughts and voice cut short. There’s a figure kind of sitting on the rocks. Engulfed by shadow but it’s there. She can feel it. It can feel her too.

“Oh god, it’s not dead. I need to know what it is. Why is it just sitting there?” She whispers. She half crouches and leans toward her companion still thirty plus feet away. Her heart beating like bingo drums in her ears. She stands frozen for a minute or half hour. Time has all about stopped.

She checks her phone. No signal! She walks backwards to car. Her eyes on that dark shape. Her mind finds what looks like legs but not quite right. Are they human? Not quite right. Are they animal? Just a little too thick. She looking for movement. Hoping for no movement. Her hand feels the car behind her. The sharp edge of bent nose pricks her finger. Slow warm blood drops from those manicured nails.

Then it happens. The thing in shadow moves. It’s stretching to upright itself. The fog rolls up from the side of road. In a flash she thinks it stands on two legs but didn’t seem like a person. The moon light fades beneath the fog. Darkness and headlights. No creature. Julia is now in the car with a very loud door slam.

“Calm down girl. It’s alive. See you didn’t kill anything. .. But the car. .. I wish I could see it. That fog covered everything. Oh no what’s that sound?”

There is a single sound piercing the fog. It could be a howl. It could have been a scream. It didn’t sound hurt.

From the corner of her eye, comes movement. A flash of brown. Then the window shatters. A clawed hand grabs her by the hair. Screaming replaces breathing. She fights off the first wave. Then a second. It leaves her sitting. Alone. Sitting. Dark road. It’s going to be a long night.

Of Fleas and Dogs

Jimmie lay awake. The middle of the night. Every noise from the suburban neighborhood coming windows.   Random noises.  Muffled rattle becoming a clear sound of passing trucks.   Cats, dogs and raccoons take turns passing thru his mind.  He tosses side to side alone. 

“Julian, damn it. Get your ass up or go to sleep.” Celeste snaps at him.  Ripping away the sheets, she turns away.

Julian’s scream fills the suburban night.  It’s that dream ever night since the accident.  Guilt is making an appetizer of his psyche.   The morality police come at night with 2×4’s.  Tasting what might be left of that thing known as the soul.  

What has he done? Oh he knows that.   Why was clear two weeks ago.  He keeps saying Jimmie brought it up to him.

“Clean, simple.  You’ll just wake up and start all over.   All your problems gone.   A fat check, minus my fee.  No-one will be to the wiser.” His mind casts Jimmie with pointed beard and ears.  His features diabolical, his voice of angels.

“When will it all end. ..”  It slowly leaves his mouth, much like tire leaking overnight to strand you.

Other pieces of story

Random Phone Picture


My mind is not cooperating today.  My characters have deserted me.   So if mountain would come to. .. That’s not working either.

Much like the guy climbing Rapuzel’s hair, how do you get back down?   I’m guessing after you pull on her hair getting there, she’s not happy to see you any more.  She’s locked in the room right?   Good ideas turn sour quickly.

Welcome to random picture on my phone.   This is actually part of Clearwater,  Florida Sugar Sand Festival.   This year’s theme fairy tails.   Aladdin and his lamp only add a picture no storyline yet.


Animal welfare

Strange topic in land of fiction.   I watched a episode of Nature (PBS series) about bionic pets. Prosthetics adapted to animals.  Seriously, inspiring stuff beyond belief.

As highly evolved animals, we change everything we can.   Watching a dog with no front legs and then one with no back legs walk with different prosthetics.  They are so quickly changed.

Too bad there isn’t a monument that says give me your poor, huddled masses yearning to be free and it included animals.   I’m a sucker for animals. Four rescues (cats) walk over me every day.   Your problems are never as bad as they could be if you can help one other person or animal.

Bad Choices

Julian looked over at an empty walnut box.  She wasn’t supposed to suffer.   She was mixed with her sculpture new.   None of this went as planned.  He had become an empty box as well.

He had become a killer.   Can’t undo that now. It was simple plan.   Jimmie brought it up.  Brake lines fail, no-one would be the wiser.   We had a deal.  He renegotiated terms but didn’t bring the gun.   He lost the gun below the damn, washed away to rust   Left Jimmie in the woods.   Celeste is in the ground.   No loose ends left.  

Julian looks over at the metal thing.   Sighs and goes back in the house.   What to do next? Her things keep her alive here.  

“Got to get rid of that stuff.  It’s like she’s waiting here for me.  Come out, come out where ever you are!  No ghost will get Julian”he starts to laugh. .  His hair is still standing on his neck.

More pieces below.

Last Piece of Junk

pleisiosaur_Julian sat there staring at the thing.  She wasn’t here to explain.  But in his mind he hears her.

“That is art.  The Nebraska guy who did carhenge made it.” Celeste explains the $100 away.

His voice rings out. “That is the last piece of junk you’ll ever buy.”

The next day the brakes failed.  She suffered broken bones, lasted a couple of days. His heart sank.

Julian mixed up concrete to secure the sculpture. Plant them together that was the plan. He lifted the bag out of the walnut box. Rest in peace my dear.

96 words

Other pieces of puzzle below