My Stories

A few free stories of mine here and a listing of where you can find others, if I sell any more.

Oops, keep forgetting to post a story here. I need to clean it up a bit first. I will get to it.

Okay can't figure out how to add another post this page so I will have to do it this way.

Not the first one written but I'm finally remembering to post one...we'll see where it ends up.
This is a short...flash... simple story, not one of my best but I don't think too bad either. You will see if I'm right about that last.

Boredom and Inspiration---500 words  Probably needs more commas but I think I got most of the misspellings, typos and such. Too many had-s but that is the way it goes with this story.
One the rights return to me I will have another story to post here. 

Stomping on the ant was such a simple act, yet the man had done it.
     Sighing, the man thought, I’m so bored I’m jumping on ants.    
     He stood, in a gray business suit and solid red “power” tie, waiting for the bus with five others.     
     The incident had started a few minutes ago as he watched the ant make its way along the sidewalk in front of the four bus stop benches. He had, by taking very small steps, followed the ant as it climbed over an ice cream stick. He kept pace with it as it stopped to exam an unidentifiable piece of debris.
     Once the ant had gotten close to the end of the bus stop the man had suddenly leaped as high as he could jump. He came down with his left foot on the ant, smashing it. 
     After he was done he went back to his seat mumbling, “I’m so bored I would do anything for excitement.”
     He seemed to be disappointed that the show was over, even though he was responsible for its ending. 
     Or so thought another man sitting on one of the other benches. He had been watching the people waiting at the bus stop and those walking by, hoping for an inspiration. He hadn’t had one for weeks.
     Now as he thought about the other man’s reaction to boredom he grabbed his briefcase, fumbling with the locks in his hurry to get it open. Once he had it opened, he reached in and pulled out a small legal pad and a pen. He flipped a couple of pages and started scribbling. 
     Two pictures had come to his mind. The first one, showing a giant ant breaking through the concrete of the sidewalk close to where the bored man was seating he rejected. It was too cliche-ish. The second one, of a supernatural being who was bored out of his skull. The Being couldn’t be killed and he could have whatever he wanted, and was bored out of his mind. After noticing a man walking by, he followed him, to watch how the human overcame obstacles. That one had potential, even if it to was cliche-ish.
     On second thought the giant ant idea had potential also, he could make it not so much like a cliché, if he wrote it right. So thinking he draw a line under what he had just wrote. Next he began to write out the ant story idea.
     As he was writing his bus arrived. The bored man was the first to get on, followed by the others who had been waiting. The writer was tempted to keep writing, but as the last of those in line paid their fares, he stuffed his pad into the briefcase. 
Running up the steps, he drew a card out of his shirt pocket. He flashed his prepaid card and found an empty seat, as the bus pulled back out into traffic.  
     He thought about what he had told his son, one never knew when inspiration would hit. A man fighting boredom, and he got two ideas. He thought, the one about the supernatural being was one of my better ideas.    

                               The End    

Finally I have decided to add three stories. Two of them--the first and last of this batch--are old tales I wrote five to six years ago. I have revised them a couple of times over the years, as I learned more about writing and just now I added some to them to make them read better. So even with the revisions they are not my best. At the same time I think they are solid stories you might enjoy. Each of these three are Science Fiction. I must add though, that even though I tried more than likely they could use some help with nitpicks and commas. I worked on those two problems, but I assume I didn't catch everything--which I apologize for. All together they are around 6,000 words.  

So here is Story 1:

 Correcting My Vision
      I entered the Vision Center filled with dread. The place smelled antiseptic, but with various colognes and deodorants mixed in with it. That various odors didn’t do anything to help my mood; they actually made me want to chew gum. Its apple-mango-wasabe flavor would do away with bad tastes that would form. 
     The procedure needed to correct my vision is simple with very little danger. That is what, Dr. Hue, my optometrist, and my friends have told me more than once, however I’ve seen it done. It looked simple all right, but still it made me nervous.  
     The low voices, and the rustle of smart paper didn’t calm me either. The cool air inside did however, for some reason I didn’t understand. I’m only sixteen, I’ve had my eyes checked every year for the last nine years, just like the tell me to do. 
     As with every previous checkup I felt amazement when the optometrist seated me in front of the photoropter. In this age of advancements, they still liked to use the old fashion equipment. A computer flipped the lens down over my eyes, but it’s still very much like the original. I looked it up online.  
     When I first saw it, I thought it was an antique, for display. I was greatly surprised when Dr. Hue seated me in front of it. During one of my later check ups I asked about it. My optometrist explained that it was the same device they had used for over one hundred years. They thought it did better job, with hands on, than a 3-D image or laser measuring device. 
     As I finished this last time, I was greatly disappointed to learn my vision what it should be. I hadn’t notice anything out of the ordinary; Dr. Hue explained that most people didn’t notice anything because the deterioration was gradual.  
     Now I sat, getting more nervous the longer I stayed there. I tried to think of nice things, but that didn’t help. I looked down and noticed some magazine covers, and thought I could distract myself by reading. I picked up one cover with three magazine sections on the front. I pressed the section I wanted and waited the few seconds it took for the smart ink to rearrange itself into the correct issue. I flipped open the cover and started reading. 
     Someone called my name, as I was deep into the second article, about a movie star that had just gotten married. I had to jerk myself back to reality. Looking up I saw a middle age man, in a white smock, holding a folder. When he called my name again I jumped up, walked to him. 
     He introduced himself as Jordan, and said to follow him. He led me to a half moon shaped table in the back of the vision 
Center. I sat in the only chair on my side of the table.
     Once we were facing each other he said, “I see that you’re 
nervous. Most people are when they come here, but there’s no reason to be. We have been correcting vision this way, for fifteen years, and I personally have been doing it for ten. I’ve been trained in all the latest techniques. Of course things could go wrong even with something this simple, but I’m very careful and have a perfect safety record. You can watch someone else having their vision corrected if it would help.”
     That idea, made me feel even more uncomfortable, so I said, “No, just go ahead and start on me.” 
     He nodded and got out a narrow box about six inches long and three inches wide. Next he brought out what looked like a medical instrument. Finally he pressed a button and I felt a tingling sensation on my hands and face. He opened the box, but I kept my eyes on his face. He reached up to my right eye with the instrument and did something. I couldn’t see what and I didn’t want to know, even when I felt a slight tug.  
     Jordan put the device on the table for a moment, while he got something out of the box. He did something else to my right eye. When he paused for a moment I couldn’t help it, I glanced down at the table top. I immediately looked back up. What I saw made a bit of bile come up, but I swallowed it back down as fast as I could. Jordan repeated the procedure on my left eye. When he was finally done he gave me a treated cloth to wipe my eyes, because both were tearing. I blinked several times and looked around. I could see better. My eyesight really had deteriorated after all. Jordan had me read a few lines on a piece of paper, than to describe a painting ten feet away. I passed every test and he smiled.
     “Your vision is now twenty-twenty. You may need some of these drops,” here he handed me a small bottle, “and if you have any problems by sure to contact us immediately, or if there is something you don’t like we have a thirty day, no questions asked, return policy.”
     I wondered if he was joking about that, but I said, “Everything looks fine.”
     He smiled again. We stood, he shook my hand. 
     I said, “Thank you” and walked out of the center. The payment had already been taken care of, so I went home. 
     My mother asked how things went and I said the procedure went fine and I really could see better. I went to my room and, using my computer, called a friend of mine. 
     Once he answered Jason asked how things went. Again I said they went fine. 
     I continued, “It was freaky though. I glanced down and saw my old eyeball sitting on a white cloth. I knew it was mine, but I was seeing through the new cloned eyeball, so it didn’t feel like it had ever belonged to me. It was surreal. Up to that point I had kept me eyes on him, so I hadn’t see my new eyeballs, but I couldn’t help it. I looked at my old ones.”
     He said, “I told you there was nothing to it. I’ve had the same procedure done three times and it has always gone smoothly. No pain, with that field they use.”
     “I know you said that, but it’s still freaky. I mean it took them only two weeks to grow new eyeballs for me. Two designed to give me perfect sight.”
     “Well, it’s over now.”
     “I’m glad it is.”
     “Since it is over...and you can see better, come over tomorrow for a game. I’ve been wanting to play you with the new 3D Dragons but you have been avoiding a rematch for three months. If you really can see better you should be able to score better,“ He said with a smile.
     I wasn’t sure if I would be scoring better, but I agreed to the game anyway. It would be a good way to test my new eyes.
                            The End

Story two which has something special. I wrote it a few weeks ago to go along with National Talk Like A Pirate Day. On a whim I decided to add some half-way hidden references to other published stories. I have noticed that even pros will do that, so I thought I would give it a try. They name no names-and I don't either-but at times it easy to figure out what is meant. That is why I decided to place the story here instead of sending it to any markets. If you can figure out all of the references I will name you in a blog post and if it is before Oct 29-2014 I will give you a coupon code for half my E-book at Of course that code has been placed in two blog posts but just in case you missed those I will give it to you. So here is 2:

 The Captain in the Captain’s Chair

     The four captains walked from the crowded main room to the side room. It had it’s own small bar with a smaller grill. Popcorn, peanuts and something none of the humanoid captains wanted to try--they smelled worse and moved. The long bearded man dressed in a thick overcoat with large brass buttons sat down first.
      When they others found their seats he said, “Arrrrg, Welcome to the Captain’s Chair, a small dingy of a bar.” 
       The other three nodded at the description of the overflow room, compared to the larger room with all of its amenities it could be a dingy to a large sea going ship.
       The bearded captain turned to one man who wore a gold short sleeved shirt and black pants, “Aye Captain, welcome to thee. It’s been too many sea voyagers since we last spoke.”
       The gold shirted captain nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but the first guy continued, “Ye must tell us of another adventure of yours, fighting with those bony headed bastards. They should all be keelhauled, or made to walk the plank. But before ye do we should order our drinks. They have the best grog here than on all of the seven seas and even under in Davy Jones Locker.”
      He turned to the only female captain in their midsts, she wore a darker, long sleeve uniform with one shoulder padded.  A patch covered one eye.
      The bearded captain said, “And Captain ye have become much sever since we last met. And I see ye have a good pirate’s patch and a metal arm now. Ye have to tell us how you received them, in good honest combat I have no doubt. That will be a tale to shiver me timbers I be sure.”
      She glanced at one arm, it appeared flesh and blood, so she may wonder how he could tell it wasn’t. 
       The last captain sat tall and straight. His body looked narrow and he spouted pointed ears. He wore a white outfit that looked like a robe and pants combo. 
      The bearded captain said to him, “And last once we have our drinks I will toast ye, for your story last time of the bearded wizard and his trip to the far mountains with his companions to help defeat the evil man was the best tale I have heard in all me trips over the ocean blue. Ye need to go on with that tale tonight. Those pint sized cave dwellers are landlubbers to the worse degree, they need be stopped.”
      The female captain stood, “I will get our drinks then, so I can get what I like this time, you want grog and captain,” she turned to the gold shirted man, “you want Ro....” A loud clash sounded as a short, scaly creature with tentacles and captain’s bars down each tentacle, knocked a bowl of popcorn to the floor to get to the third bowl, “Ale?” she finished.
      She turned to the last captain and said, “Your usual?”
      He nodded to her, so she went toward the bar.
      The bearded captain smiled and when the gold shirted one opened his mouth, he said, “Arrrg, don’t be a storm headed down from the horizon, Captain, wait until she gets back to tell your tale, so we all can hear it. I want to hear her another story from her about those religious landlubbers who want to take that planet and how they lost again.”
      The gold captain eye’s narrowed, and he said, “I wasn’t going to start my story yet, you stop being a landlubber before I keelhaul you.”
      The bearded captain looked shocked, but laughed and said, “That is why I like you, you take no guff.” 
        He reached into a pocket and brought out a deck of cards, “I learned this new game, I think you know captain, pray to lets play a hand or two until she gets back.”
        After just one hand The lass brought back the drinks and the bearded captain said, “I will go first this night.” A pause to drink and he said:

     “Arrrg, we decided to adventure-it had been awhile since we had one and me men were restless-and we took on supplies for a long trip. When the holds were full me and my scurvy crew sailed out for a certain land I had heard tales about. After we sailed on for a week and two days, I called a stop to take a look around. The sea looked as it should and smelled right. The sky appeared the bluest blue I had ever seen-which is one reason I loved the sailing life. With none of the signs I expected from the tale I ordered us to sail on. 
     Not a bell later, a sudden a squall came up in the days, at night fog or clouds blocked the moon. That did not slow us though, for we traveled as we had been told by someone in Davy Jones Locker, when we visited there last time. After a few days the skies cleared and I took a reading that night, the moon stood full and the stars bright. The next day we sailed on a smooth as glass sea with a wee bit of wind. The next night I took another reading, we hadn’t moved. Arrrg, I wanted to keelhaul whoever had played with my sextant. The next day we moved on and the next night the sky read the same. We had traveled leagues those two days, but we were back where we had started. A stronger wind came up the next day, I had the crew lower a longboat to keep a better eye on the sea, but the same reading that night. Shiver me timbers, but that was spooky no good would come of it. A fifth day we traveled leagues again, but still we came back to where we started. 
      He paused took a long swig, wiped his lips with his long black sleeve, continued, “Me first mate came up, 'Captain, we be in a pickle. We are headed nowhere fast as the landlubber say.”
       “Nowhere fast?” Arrg, I be stupider than a landlubber meself, we had been going around in a circle each of the five last days, so had come back to the same place each day. That be because we had been were we wanted to be. I walked to toward the bow of me ship, the Roaming Mermaid. Me men saw the glint in me eye and moved out of me way. At the bow where the figurehead be I leaned over the rail of the ship. I kept me eye on the currents to see which way they flowed. Water sprayed me, but I didn’t care. I got a good dose of the scent of the sea, it did an old sea dog good to smell that salt water. Aye, it took me a while-water dripped from me hair-but I found what I wanted. One current sailed to the right than to the left, than back to where it started. I commanded me wheelman to follow it. I knew he be confused, but as he learned back when he was a deck hand, he did as me orders said to. The passage of the me ship blew even more water in me face. It be cold and bracing too. I smelled wet wool and knew me collar be wet through and though, but I watched the current. It ran in circles and so did we. Faster and faster that current took us in that circle. When I saw brown water I shouted a command to the watch to reverse the sails. Me men jumped to it. I have a good crew, they know their business and like adventure as much as me, but they also know that if they don’t act fast when I say to, they will be lashed with cat-o-nine and made to haul that barrel on dry land. Once the ship slowed I yelled out to lay anchor. At once I heard the chain slip down and the anchor smack into the water. Some of the new men grumbled, but the old ones knew me. Me ship jerked a wee bit more-it be a good, solid ship too-before the anchors caught, and behold an island. The lookout cried, “Land ho!” a wee bit late. 
      We had come to our destination and as a good captain,” he eyed the gold shirted captain, “I led the shore party. We had a fine adventure on that island of Nowhere, but I  see that I have drunken all me grog. I will get another mug and you all can decide who gets to tell their tale next.”

The end

And Here Be Story 3:

The Logcutter

    The condensed beam of light shot out. It took only an instant for it to cut through a two foot wide log. The scent of burnt wood tickled Cal Jones nose. Burnt dirt also, for the laser cut into the soil under the wood. That’s why he always aimed it downward. 
     As the six inch long piece dropped, the ex-solider shook his head. He still didn’t like to to use such a beautiful weapon to cut logs. If he didn't though he wouldn't have anything to warm his farm house, or cook his food with when winter started. Fall, what passed for fall on this planets, chilled the air. The wind picked up for a moment and blew dust, pollen and ashe into the air. He spat, followed by a sneeze. It also blew it into his mouth and nose. He never did like the flavor of ashe-it reminded him of all the times he breathed it in, thereore tasted it, during the war.
     Cal sighed, it would be better to use it against some of the dangerous large man-killer animals that roamed this forest. They roamed further deeper though and he didn’t really want to use it on them, if the need arose he would.  
     The pile of lasered logs grew. His house had solar panels, but the sun didn’t shine for long in the winter months. If there was an emergency he could use his bicycle generator, even though that supplied only enough power for certain appliances: such as his radio and his TV, when he was in the mood for movies that is.
     He liked pretty much any type of movie except for war movies. After five years of fighting a real one Cal didn’t feel ready to watch a make believe war. War movies reminded him too much of what he had done during the real war, and the friends he had lost. Cal’s nightmares were strong enough now, he didn't need anymore reminders.
     He bent down to adjust the laser, moving its tripod, so it could cut another six inch slice off the log. 
     This is a beautiful weapon. Neither extreme heat, nor extreme cold interferes with its operation. It easy to aim, the parts are easily replaced when they do wear out.
     It and his boots were the only things Cal brought home from that Godforsaken war. When memories of his release from the military surfaced again, he still felt surprise that the people who signed him out let him keep the rifle and the boots. 
     If I went crazy I could do a lot of harm with that rifle. The military didn’t need as many though. My buddies decided to keep something and I ended up agreeing. Evidently those that processed us agreed. After I signed the release papers they turned their backs, literally, as I walked out of the processing center carrying both the laser and my boots in a sack that didn't hide their shape. 
    At least the money the government gave me was enough to buy two acres and a small house out here in the middle of nowhere. The house is well built, with good installation, and all the appliances are well made. 
     I bought these acres way out here, because I didn't want to be around people. I knew I needed to be alone to heal and at the same time I didn't want to be bothered by people. I felt like the hard work needed to farm in this half jungle was what the doctor ordered.
    He shook his head, there's probably over two hundred of us out here on these two acre farms, and I know of two other communities with the same numbers. So many men and a few women, tired of war.
     He sat down on the log feeling tired. Maybe he should move to town. Teddy and John are coping in the city. They say it’s hard, but they both found the love of a good woman, which they say helps.
     A scream interrupted his thoughts. A loud growl followed a second scream. The screams came from a human throat and the growl didn’t. He stopped to listen, all of his senses on alert. 
     He heard another scream, this one was joined by softer ones. 
     Oh oh, children, which probably means a family; one who came here to enjoy nature. It sounds like they are being attacked by a Gorillain-and they travel in packs. 
     Without further thought, he unhooked his laser from the tripod and took off. From his battle experience he knew how far away the screams came from and what direction. As he ran through the tall grass he didn’t feel the knee high, whip like red seed stalks as he crashed through them. Before he knew his senses slid into war mood. His speed increased, the sides blew by in a blur. He caught a whiff of a dead animal, he normally won’t have notice.
     On the way he glanced at the power setting. A curse slipped out. He already knew the power level, but out of habit he double checked it. He should have recharged it instead of waiting until after he finished with the logs. On the run, he used his thumb to change the weapon’s setting to just below medium. That would make it harder to kill any of the beasts, but it wouldn’t be good if the charge ran out before he chased them away.
     He hoped he didn’t have to kill them, but bile came up when he thought of the children in the animals’ claws. At least he didn’t have to worry about where he set his foot. His boots had survied the last two years of the war and three years of living here. It wouldn’t matter if he stepped on a hard twig, a snake or a sting beetle. 
     It took him only seconds to enter the trees, even though he slowed a little he still ran almost full out, weaving in and out of the trees. The low branches he avoided for even the very thin ones felt as strong as battle steal when he ran into them. Which explained why he used the laser to cut the wood from these trees. They burned for a long time, but took for ever to saw through.
     Seconds later he smelled the musk of the Grollians, very strong which meant they were upset. When he neared the clearing from where the screams and growls come from, he heard soft thuds, followed by growls of pain and anger. It sounded like the humans were trying to drive away the beasts by throwing rocks at them. Not a good idea, as they were about to learn, but at the same time there wasn't much else they could do. 
     He hurried through the last of the trees, instinctively moving with the wind blowing his way instead of toward the beasts. Without thinking he moved silently as he learned to do during the war. 
     Cal came upon the scene from one side. The Gorilians stood still on one side of the clearing, which gave him a sense of relief. No one had been killed yet. A glance on the other side made bile raise in his mouth. Five people stood there: a woman and man with three children of various ages. The two oldest were boys and the youngest looked like a five year old girl. Even from there Cal could see tears as they ran down her cheeks and hear her sobs. All three children stood behind the couple. Both adults were holding thick sticks, ready to swat the first beast to come near them. Both wore terrified expressions on their faces. 
    From the way they glanced at each other they more then likely knew their best efforts probably wouldn't slow down the animals. At the same time they looked determined to do something to protect their children. He thought he could smell their fear; it reminded him of the war. That stink always melded with his thoughts of the battles he had been in.
     A breeze blew by him and carried their and the humans’s scent. He studied the animals for a moment. He knew them by sight and study, but it still amazed him that they looked so much like a cross between an earth gorilla and an earth bear. These like most of their kind, even the females, were seven feet tall. From his position he could make out females in this bunch. The females were not as board as the males, and Cal could easily make out where their six mummery glands would appear, as they filled with milk right after they gave birth. Their presence made this a family group. 
     He wondered why they were attacking the humans. They usually left humans alone, preferring larger prey. Maybe they couldn’t find their usually prey and thought the family would make a communal meal. Or maybe the family had come upon them and started screaming and throwing rocks. Whatever the reason, their standoff was about to end. One male started moving toward the humans.
     Without having to think about it, Cal raise his rifle to a firing position and pressed the trigger. A red beam shot out hitting the moving gorillian in the claw it was reaching toward the adults. 
     The beam could have been invisible, but the heads of military development thought it was better if soldiers could see the beam. That would help them not run into it on the battle field. They might have been right, he grudgingly admitted, for he had seen soldiers blunder into the laser beams, as bright as they were. If they couldn’t see the beams there would have been more accidents of that type. 
     The beast kept moving for two seconds, as the beam burnt into its hand. It finally stopped and looked down at the claw, before letting out a howl of pain and rage. It pulled back the claw, but Cal managed to keep the laser on the hand with practiced ease. It finally burned all the way through the claw, as the beast screamed its fury. It turned from the family, glanced around, as it looked for the source of its pain. 
     Cal switched targets, firing at another one, hitting it in the chest. It humphed in surprise before it screamed in pain with a deep throated growl, as the needle of light started to burn into its chest. The gorillian moved out of the beam, before it could burn all the way through its chest. Cal thought it might have cut halfway through the torso, but it looked like it missed everything fatal. 
     A glance to his right told him that the first male he hit was headed his way. Moving with haste he backed into the trees. Without stopping he ran as quietly as possible against the wind. He came out of the trees closer to the band. This time he fired from the hip, another maneuver he had plenty of practice with. He hit another big male, keeping the beam on the creature long enough for it to burn all the way through its torso. It’s yell lasted a long time and when it tried to move it fell. The wound didn't kill it immediately, but Cal thought it would eventually. 
     He moved again when the one he had just shot started to move his way, probably after catching his scent. On the run, he let the beam score along the back of another male, who was headed for the family. It didn't go deep enough to do much damage, but the beast turned from the family, now headed his way. 
     A glance told him that the family was edging toward the 
trees. A fallen log lay behind them that would slow them down. 
     Cal made it to the other edge, turned, aimed and shot all in one movement. He hit one in the eye this time. He was able to keep it on it long enough to burn out the eye, but not long enough for the beam to reach its brain. The Gorillian whiplashed in pain, first moving its head up and back then falling to its knees.
     Shaking his head, he thought, I didn't like doing that, I was hoping to kill it fast. 
     A shadow interrupted his thought. He pivoted out of the way of a claw swiping at him, then dropped to the ground to avoid the other claw. Rolling out of the way he thought that's it for the lower setting. If my shots are fast and precise I should be able to score death shots before the power is used up. 
     Using his thumb he moved the setting to the second from the top. He rose up on one knee, raising the rifle up to an aiming position and fired, all in one movement. He hit one in its back. The beam cut in quickly, but the beast arched its back. The beam slide sideways burning a line across the back, but not staying in one place long enough to burn completely through. Keeping the beam on it Cal managed to finally hit its heart, destroying it in less then a second.  
     Beetles scattered from where it dropped and a large carrion eater crowed its thanks to Cal. Tasting sweat on his lips Cal turned to the one whose eye he had burnt out, it still rested on its knees, in an all too human position. He came up behind it. When it started to turned toward him, he fired one quick shot at the base of its head. He smelled something new and realized that it wasn’t just humans that sometimes emptied their bowels when they died.
     His stumach felt like it wanted to empty his last meal, as he turned; that felt too much like an execution. He watched two during the war and someone told him that the other side had killed one of his friends that way. In this case it was putting an animal out of its misery, but he still didn't feel right. 
     As the gorillian fell, Cal ran to another position and fired 
at another one. Before the beam could kill that one, he leaned backwards as a claw came out of nowhere again. This time his rifle went flying across the clearing. He observed a hole in that claw, and knew this one was the first gorillian he had shot. Somehow he missed it’s smell when it snuck up on him.
     His hands stinging Cal dropped to the ground to avoid another swing meant to take his head off. He was surprised, but glad when the soft dirt under the trees, hard dirt can be just like rock. With a soft grunt he rolled to his back, fear grew while at the same time he would not let the thing win. He postioned a knife he had managed to pull on the way down. It was what used to be called a Bowie knife; long, thick and very sharp. He cursed himself for leaving his hand weapon back at the house. It may not be a military grade weapon, but it could still kill this Gorillian before it got him. A bullet in the chest, neck and head would do the job. But he didn't have it on him. 
     The knife could do the job, if he was quick enough. He knew where the vital spots for a gorillian were. He picked up the habit of learning a potential enemy’s weaknesses during the war. It would be a fight with a real possibility he would end up dead. Or wounded bad enough to make him an easy target for one of the other members of the band. He couldn’t let the thing just kill him, or the family however.
     Before he could move though something flew across his vision. He thought it hit the gorillian in the head. A second later another fist sized rock hit the beast. It ignored this rock, as it 

had ignored the first one. It also ignored the next three which hit it almost almost the same instant. Cal took a second to glance at the direction the rocks came from. He saw that the two older kids throwing the rocks. The father picked up a rock three times the size of the pervious ones and threw it as hard as he could. It hit the beast in the face, as it reared over Cal. Blood dripped from a gash left behind by the rock as it dropped almost hitting Cal. 
     Roaring the beast turned toward the family. Cal readied the knife as another rock flew across the clearing. Slightly smaller then the one that left the gash it hit the beast as it roared again. By luck, or by planning, Cal didn't know, but it landed in the gorillian's mouth, sticking in the orifice. The beast let out a muffled roar, and shook its head, trying to dislodge the hard thing in its mouth. 
     While it was occupied with the rock. Cal rolled out of its 
way, and on his hands and knees scuttled to where the laser lay. He could hear the other gorillians moving, so he raised up to a crouch, running the rest of the way in that position. He scooped up the rifle on the run, turning to face the animals, as he kept stepping backwards.
     He again fired from the hip, scoring a hit on the gorillian, as it headed for the family. It screamed and pivoting before the beam could burn in far enough to kill it. The beam scored along the beast's side as it turned. Once it faced Cal, the beam started to burn into its stomach. He raised the beam burning a line upwards until he found its heart.  
     Even before it started to fall, Cal aimed his weapon at another male heading his way. He kept the beam on its chest for 

the few seconds it took the beam to reach its heart. As it fell the rest of the band decided that they had enough damage. They ran off, using their hands, much like earthly gorillas, to increase their speed. 
     Cal knew that one of them would die before too many days had passed. He better get home to radio a warning to anyone else that might come across that band in the next few days. 
     He stood there a moment tasting blood from where he had bit his lip, but otherwise he seemed to be in one piece. Before he could move the family came over to thank him. They introduced themselves, and with tears in her eyes the mother hugged him. He smelled her sweat over a weakening preforma-deodarant.The father shook his hand expressing his thanks. The oldest boy shook his hand also, while the two youngest hugged his legs. 
     Cal squatted down to let the two smaller children hug him, both stunk of dirt and he felt loose soil fall on his clothes, but he didn’t care. He thanked them for throwing the rocks and distracting the gorillian, while he was on the ground. They both shyly nodded a you're welcome.
     Mr. Andrews asked him if he was ok. 
     "I'm in one piece. Thanks for asking, I didn't take any serious injuries. Thix action wasn't any rougher then anything I experienced during the war."  
     The father nodded, for he had heard stories about how bad some of the fighting had been during the war. They talked some more, as they walked to the family’s vehicle. With one last thank you, the family piled into it and drove off. As he watched them drive off, Cal smiled glad he was able to save them. He didn't want to think about them, especially the little girl, being torn apart and eaten. It hit him that the only reason he had been able to save the family, and that little girl was his training and more importantly his war experiences.
    On the way back to his house, he realized how much he missed seeing children play. Once home, he sent out a general call to warn his neighbors about the wounded Gorillain. Then his stomach growled. He thought a shot of whisky would be good, but decided he didn’t need it after all. A quick meal of warmed up noddles and beef, though would be good. 
    The next few days he thoughts of playing children stayed on his mind. In a sudden realization, it hit him, he hadn't been having very many nightmares since the rescue. He sat and thought about his experiences the pass few days. He used what he learned during the war to save the family. All that junk he had gone through had ended up for a good purpose. As he considered that, he remembered John and Teddy’s statements. The love of a good woman helped them to heal. 
    Maybe it was time to move back to civilization. Not all at once though. He could sell this farm, he always was getting 
offers, and get a place in the town three hours from here. Only two to three thousand people lived there, a large portion of which were veterans like him. And just as importantly the population included single females.
    He would miss this place. He liked working the land... maybe he would buy a farm next to the town. He would have to think about it, but by the way he felt he knew his mind was made up already. 

                               The End


A set of flash, twitter and mini stories. 


The Fairy Godmother stared down at the girl in the white formal dress, said, “OMG, you’re eyebrows are way too nerdy, you need some like mine if you want to catch the eye of the Prince.”
    She brushed her just right eyebrows, done in the latest style. In a solid line that curved upwards than down.
    To herself she said,  She needs her Charming-even though my first assignment from my grandmother I have everything down. Now what were those words again?
     She adjusted her seat in the front of the horse drawn carriage which she had covered with just the right amount of bling. 
    Of course.
     She rapped a chorus with a lot of B-s, I-s, T-s and rhymes to it. 
    A purple glittery cloud covered the head of the young woman.
The young woman said, “Hey, that tickles...and like last time feels gooood.”
    The cloud vanished, thin curving eyebrows with just the right type and color of mascara now showed. Hints of purple glitter dusted them. 
      The Fairy Godmother said, “Good, Now hop up here, as my Grandmother says your carriage awaits. Yes, carriage this Prince is old fashion but he’s still cool.”
      The girl did, looked at the driver, by the look on her face she wanted to not think of what he really was. She winkled her nose probably because the horse still smelled of what it had been. The Fairy Godmother thought her Grandmother hadn’t told her about that, it had to be their imagination.
      She said, “Stop playing with your top. He’s old fashion in that way too. I made sure you show just enough skin for him. BTW-the sushi, which I know is to die for, may distract you but remember why you are there and. Watch. The. Time.”
     The young woman nodded with a determined expression on her face.
     Fairy Godmother thought, she will make it even if she feels like this is way too hard, then the young woman with wings and wand vanished in a poof of purple. The horse started on its way. 

The end


Twitter tales

He sat, jumped back up grabbed a beam gun shot the alien breaking through the window. It vanished in fire. Sitting back down turned on TV.

He sat down jumped up with pain burning his butt. Grabbed the oversized Martian beetle with device made of red sand, gingerly sat down again. 

Susan wanted a ring, her enlarging belly showed why. Brad looked at her belly said, “Maybe”. She put his hand on it “you’re it”. “Maybe I be”.

He swings his sword, slices and stabs it. Tentacles fly, one of its eyes is no more. Dancing he cuts. Cave is clear for him and his Love.


Mini stories

Blue of Home 

The view-screen showed a microscopic blue-Ben stared. The right blue, produced by life. The trip out had taken too long. He’d seen red suns, green nebulae, black holes--from a distance. None looked this perfect, a blue made from air and water. Ben smiled, the blue of home grew.   


The small refrigerator exploded. The collage students dived behind the couch. Metal fragments thudded into the couch, walls, ceiling. Globs of half melted ice cream, Chinese takeout, cold pizza pelted them. A cloud of Freon drifted their way, two sneezed. Once it was over the looked around excited to have survived the unexpected adventure-but now the cleanup.