short stories

Strange Short Story & Writing Prompt

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Prompt: On an outing with their caregiver, a nursing home resident recognizes a “Missing” poster for something/someone.

“But she looks familiar…” I said weakly. The sun was getting to me, as were the hours in the day.

Just like the days themselves.

“Geraldine, we spoke about this yesterday. At your age, everyone may look familiar. Your brain is doing things I can barely explain… We can’t expect you to understand.”

Her baleful blue eyes stared at me from far away, like birds on a wire you saw across a field just the other day, but can’t quite remember.

“You’re right.” I sighed. The wheelchair creaked loudly as she pushed me along on my afternoon walk. I pulled my felt tennis hat lower. The sun was hot, but the tears in my eyes were embarrassing. Even though Nurse Clawson took me down the side route behind the apartments, shaded by quiet trees and silent bushes, I felt like I was being watched by the windows around us.

I swear I had seen her somewhere before, but the Nurse is right. How could I argue? I forget who I am sometimes.

“Just around the next bend, Gerry.”

Birds flew from the concrete as we squeaked around a bend, leading to my ramp. The Nurse was handy and I remembered her throwing it together one day. The car was a bit warm while she was inside of Lowes, but the music that played was the soft golden oldies I loved. Crooning at me, Frank always comforted me. The music reminded me of quiet times. Happy times. A husband?

“A family…” I said quietly, as I bumped off the top of the ramp.

“What was that?” Nurse Clawson smiled at me.

“…Nothing. Just some memory that probably isn’t true.” I didn’t know anymore. I just knew that I would be able to get to watch the TV during dinner, and there may be some cute animals on Discovery Channel. The animals made me feel better somehow.

The microwave dinged as I sat in front of the blank TV. The blackness stared back at me, as did a woman whose face I had seen somewhere before.

I couldn’t tell where, but her face in the black TV, staring at me from a wheelchair, looked familiar somehow.

Finally managed to publish!

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Hope you are all well! My wife managed to push me to publish recently, so while helping her watch the kids I edited what I had written so far and added a bit of changes throughout, and here we go!

CLICK HERE TO GET A COPY!

If you were not a follower, it is a sci-fi / fantasy / horror about a man who ran from his life and got lost in nightmares (not really nightmares though lol)

Every time he falls asleep or gets knocked out he wakes up somewhere else… it is a lot of fun!

Help 2 teachers pay for their kids groceries and read some good science fiction! XD

Appreciate you being here, if you are curious I left the first few chapters up on my main page and all my short stories remain. Depending on how this goes I may get permission to make the time to write more 😉

Have a great day! 🙂

False Flag

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Click here for the part before

Cans popped off the fence quickly this time.

“Great aim, fellas.  This is what I was looking for.”  Stephens boomed from behind them.  10 men were lined up about 50 yards from the fence where the cans met their fate.

They were all a part of what they called a ‘gun club’, but in private conversations they all knew that they were a quick response team in case anyone connected to them became accosted by the Feds.

“Let’s go get a drink.  I don’t even think mini-me missed one today.” Stephens tousled his teenaged son’s hair, getting laughter from the rest. 

They all walked together back to the big house in the middle of his property. 

Robert was a quiet man, never really said too much.  He had always been quiet, as far as he could remember.  While the rest joked about something, he was thinking about getting back home because of the way the wind pushed the tall grass here. Like waves on the ocean.

“Whatcha thinking about, R.J.? You look troubled.”  Jacob was a nice guy, always asking if everyone was OK or if they needed anything. A hospitable man who did not need to have you in his apartment to try to provide hospitality. 

“I’m alright, just thinking about the news again.  Always some fucking bullshit.”  Robert didn’t need to say more to get affirmative grunts from the rest.  All conversations now fixed on this tender point. 

“They just make shit up.  You can’t hardly trust anything on mainstream media these days, man.  I just stick with folks I met online and YouTube.  Get the news from people who are there, instead of some regurgitated crap.  All watered down and branded with a logo and an ideology.”  Stephens practically spat the last word onto the dirt as he kicked the dust from his boots. 

“Politicians.  And then you have these freaks in the cities, from who knows where smoking who knows what. And voting.”  Jacob huffed, rubbing his Duck Dynasty beard with a big hand. 

“Not even Americans in those cities anymore, I’m afraid.  You seen them burning everything down just because some dumbass got shot.  People get shot all the time all over the world.  Why freak out over another one?  Stupid as hell.”  Kevin Stephens spoke for the first time since he got his hair mussed up. 

“Watch your mouth, son.  But you’re right.”   His father spoke softly, the clanking and shuffling of cloth louder than his words.  They didn’t need to be loud for everyone to really hear what he had to say.  They felt it. 

Jacob broke the rustling silence of the march with a “god-DAMN”. 

“Now what?” R.J. said, causing some chuckles.  Jacob was always getting fired up over something online.

“Someone said that they see someone in their neighbor’s yard who is probably an alien, but they are doing yard work.  But look at how he looks at his phone constantly!” He shoved the phone into R.J.’s face, instantly causing a headache.  He hated looking at screens, but it was the only way to make it in this world.  Sure enough, the video showed a man weedeating and stopping every couple seconds to check his phone and type something in.

“Probably just texting his girlfriend.  Quit getting all riled up over mundane shit, Jacob.” R.J. kept walking.  The rest made various “ooo’s” and chortles.  Jacob turned red behind all his hair. 

“Probably your girlfriend, Jacob!!” Someone chuckled out. 

“At least I got one!” He puffed.  Everyone laughed. 

The trees watched quietly.  The bugs were quiet, but no one noticed.

California air was hot and still that night.  The bugs now danced in the moonlight as R.J. slept in his bed with the itchy sheets he loved.  They reminded him of something he couldn’t quite remember, but he always got close to the memory when he was sleeping in that bed, when he teetered on the edge dreaming.  Vibrant reality stole him away from that place tonight. He was restless for some reason.  The bugs tried to soothe him with their song, but to no avail.

“Water.”  He stood and the floor of his trailer creaked loudly, scaring something out from underneath and into the woods.  As usual. 

“Racoons” he muttered as he got some cold water from the tap.  He opened his phone and went into his app rotation.  Force of habit.

“Chinese spotted off of Alaska?”  Again?” He gulped the water down.  “They pull this shit almost monthly now.”  It is not uncommon for the Russians and Chinese to dart in and out of our airspace occasionally, testing response times.  But the Chinese have been particularly annoying recently.

“Every time this happens people think they’re invading.  No one reads more than the headlines.” He shared an article with the same sentiment of his attached as his personal caption. 

He filled the glass again, somehow thirstier than before the first glass of water. 

His phone went off suddenly with a loud alert tone, scaring the shit out of him and making him drop the glass and shatter it in the sink.  The phone leapt from his hand and into the sink in the same moment.

“Jesus Mary and Joseph” Robert whispered to himself.  He cut himself just barely retrieving the phone and drying it off, reading the emergency alert message on his lock screen.

Stay at home order issued.  Chinese invasion of West Coast. Stay at home to allow military personnel to travel unrestricted.  Turn to your local news station.  Stay at home.    

Within 30 seconds, or about the 10th time rereading the message his phone rang out into the silence. 

“R.J.” He spoke

“You seein’ this shit?”  Stephens breathed heavily on the other line.

“Yeah, not sure what I think about it.”   Smells like bullshit.”

“Call your guys and I’ll call my half of the list, and we meet up at… Rally point A?”

“Yeah and I will bring the signs we made last time, plus some blank ones.”   R.J. was putting his wallet and keys into his pocket as he spoke. 

“I’ll add a link on Facebook to try and get more folks to show up.  This is obviously a false flag to do something worse.”  Stephens chided.  “We need a better social media presence.  We need all the good patriots to show up and show the government we don’t believe this, and that if it is true we CAN HELP!”

Something about the way he said the last part riled R.J. up.  He did feel sort of miffed the government did not call on the militias they knew were all over the place. 

His turtle was watching him this whole time, stretched out under his heat lamp.  As R.J. walked out the door, it slid in the water to cool off.

Click here to read the next part!

Sorry it’s been so long

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I haven’t written in a long time.

Sorry! Thanks for patience. Had a baby this year, coaching wrestling, and teaching US history. It’s been busy.

Stay tuned though…. I got some interesting ideas saved up that will traumatize and inspire.

Thank you, dear reader, for your patience. Keep it up.

– J

Back to School Games for History!

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Hello, fellow educators!

Are you ready to go back to school?  I’m still hoping to binge another sci-fi show or two.

Image result for binge watch

But school is just around the corner and you have to start thinking about fun games and engaging activities for this year’s students 🙂

I thought that I would share these sweet resources that I made and found success with.   They will help ease your pain when it comes to creating a fresh and new back to school activity to engage your history classes.

I call them “History Detective” games!   

They engage the heck out of my high schoolers, but I’ll bet this activity will work just as well in a middle school classroom.

They are way better than regular icebreakers.  It gets the kids working together right off the bat to analyze and understand interesting pictures and primary documents from history.  Some pictures are funny, some pictures are thought provoking.

Here is a sample from the World History version of the back-to-school activity:

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The kids first see the pictures, and have to take notes about details that help them form opinions about the origins of the creature or what it is.  You can imagine the giggles this one gets 🙂

Plus, we all know admin loves to see the kids working together and talking about something academic!  Very low prep activity too, all the kids need is paper, pen, and their brains!

And all you need is the projector and a laptop to connect to it 🙂 Plus your awesome and engaging classroom personality, of course!!

Click here for the U.S. History Version!

Click here for the World History version!

What sort of activities do you use to get the kids back in gear for the new year? 

Happy 2018!

Mr. P / Travelling Salesman

file10

 

[WP] Magic is in the process of being rediscovered.  You have just found a protection enchantment that sounds suspiciously like “Hold My Beer”. 

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I murmured the words softly to myself:
“Ancient elder gods, I call on thee. Torgath. Shenron. Gibbles. Protect this chalice for me.”
Nothing happened save for a draft flickering my dying candle. Strange. I closed the book softly and retired to my bed.
_________________

The next day some of the anthropology and archeology staff went out to the bar because it was Friday and the only spell we got to work was one to produce a small frog.  
“Man, he’s a friendly lil guy” Professor Stevens said. The frog sat perched on his shoulder, bobbing it’s head to the beat of Journey’s “Seperate Ways”.  
“I think he likes the music” I laughed and shoveled some chips into my mouth. A twinge told me it was time to relieve myself in the dive bar’s dark bathroom.

 “Stevens, can you hold this beer for me? No roofies, please.”  
“Why don’t you ask — what was it — Torgath and something else…” 
“Hah!” I laughed and held my arms up theatrically, beer in one hand.
“Ancient elder gods, I call on thee. Torgath. Shenron. Gibbles. Protect this chalice for me.”
I set the chalice on the bar and started to walk away when I heard someone scream and drop a glass. I looked back and stared at a 8-foot reptilian hominid with black armor standing by my beer and holding a halberd. It used it to push back my friends as it snarled. It looked to me and hissed:
“Ssssssummoner. I will remain here and protect your drink.” It waved a massive scaled hand over the beer and a light white layer of frost encased the glass and some of the bar.  
“And it sssssshall remain cold for you. It issssss sssssafe to attend to your businessssss. I am the sssservant of the elderssss and you, powerful one.”  
The bar was silent except for Motorhead’s “Ace of Spades”.  
A massive popping sound filled the air and suddenly the same woman from before screamed again as a giant Koala-man appeared on the opposite end of the bar, clad in gold armor and pointing his sword at me.
“FOOL! You have summoned the minion of Shenron and Gibbles!” I stared in confusion as the reptilian darted across the bar and slammed his halberd into the koala-knight. The impact forced all the bar patrons back with a whooshing wind and immense pressure.  
“The battle for the end times has begun. You have chosen your side.” The knight kicked the reptile back and prepared for his attack.  
“Now fight, Mage!”

I stood frozen in horror as the Golden Koala-Knight lunged foward toward me, low to the ground.  The reptilian was still recovering from being knocked back as I stared at my impending doom.

The loudest ribbet I have ever heard thundered in the enclosed space of the bar.  The Koala and Reptile both froze, and everyone stared as the frog we had summoned before leapt from Professor Stevens’ shoulder and transformed into a frog-hominid.  An immaculate white robe and hood covered it, and the robe seemed to emanate its own light in the dark bar.

“YOU!” Koala and Reptile shouted in unison.

“Yes, me.” Frog croaked.  “End this foolishness or you shall both be banished back into the Hidden Realm.”  Without hesitation both combatants yielded with a bow.  

“Who… Are you?” I sputtered.  The rest of the bar patrons had fled, save for Stevens and I.  It was surprising that no one had stayed videotaping this for Worldstar Hip-hop.

“I am Torgath’s Great Priest.  I know you don’t know who that is, but it doesn’t matter quite yet.  What does matter is that we hold a summit of all of your magical researchers so I can lay out some ground rules for this age of prophecy.  I didn’t do this before because, frankly, you are all inept.  Well, not you.”  He looked at me with those strange sideways eyes.  “You are different, somehow.  Are you descended from elves?”

“What?” I whispered.  “I’m from Florida.” 
“Yes, of course.  Flawreeda.”  The frog chuckled to himself.  “Well, come with me.  He touched my shoulder with one webbed hand and touched his temple with the other.  The world around me seemed to fade away into static, trembling and twitching and then just white surrounded us.  

We appeared in the center court of the Hidden Kingdom, surrounded by animal-peoples and forgotten races.  But I didn’t notice this until I finished vomiting my fish and chips out onto an ancient mosaic that was older than humanity.  

“I’m sorry.”  My apology echoed out to scattered chuckles.  

“It’s nothing, child.”  The Frog-priest waved his hand and the mess vanished with a pop.  

I stood and stared at the impossible gathering of impossible creatures.  I felt dizzy as one immense creature stood with a whoosh of wind, easily 80 feet tall.

“So this is the one who performed the drink protection enchantment?” A loud scoff.  “I cannot sense any magical energy in him.”  

“It doesn’t matter if you can sense it or not” Frog-priest chastised. “He performed the spell and the two great warriors nearly began the end times.  AGAIN.”

Small murmurs erupted into a cacaphony of shouts and questions and statements.

“Kill him!  Prevent the end times!”

“Destroy their world to save ours!”

“Conquer them!”

The Frog-priest waved his hand.  Silence came before he finished its arc.  

“He must face the trials.  We shall see if their world will live.  He is the strongest Mage they have.  He will decide the fate of his world.” I stared in horror.

“Wait, what?”

[WP] After exploring the galaxy for quite some time, humanity finally makes first contact. Turns out science fiction got it wrong: compared to the other races humans are advanced, logical, responsible, long lived pacifists and the galaxy is a massive clusterfuck.

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How they managed to become a space-faring civilization was a mystery. Glarkans were a blend of reptile and crustacean with a hefty helping of aggression. I had read the dossiers. I gulped as I stepped off the transport into the musty space station. The first human here. The second through 30th humans were my security detail.

The noise level was that of a souk. A normal one, not like that of Baghdad in the early 2000s.

“No bombs here. Yet.” Chuckling to myself to forget my nervousness. I ate way too much Indian food too.

What did I get myself into?

The noise level dropped as my detail fanned out, flanking my stroll onto their promenade. Strange beasts in the midst of arguments stopped and stared. They whispered. Clicked mandibles. Something not unlike a laugh. Shops closed their windows with a familiar urgency, as familiar as the feeling of rubbing my sidearm.

A large, obviously mature Glarkan towered into view. Ducking to get through a 12 foot doorway, he bellowed an alien laugh through drooping antennae. My detail flicked their safeties off and raised their rifles, and I hissed at them with a hand, palm down.

“Put those away!” I turned away, knowing they obeyed. The creature was already before us, and the others had vanished. Plates of organic armor were covered in scars and paint, clashing red and yellow and black. It crouched to speak, and we held out our translators to record it’s patterns of clicks and whistles. Similar to insect trills. A grunt thrown in for who knows what reason.

And we waited. It was impatient, and began stomping away the translators finally blooped at us.

“Be-gin. I wonder how you found us in this nebula. Are all of you so small? Why should we listen to you?” [[LAUGHING]] “What technology do you offer?”

I sent a mathematical algorithm in response to this first diplomatic exchange. They just managed to get space flight, so protocol dictates first contact. Easy diplomatic job for the practiced man.

“It’s a science.” I smiled inwardly. The being opened a data pad it had tucked somewhere between exoskeleton and hair. It’s 8 eyes flicked about slightly. The mandible mouth opened and closed, as if about to speak. But the response has to be careful.

“Congratulations for gaining a foothold into space. It is a major step for a civilization to get beyond their gravity well. You are now required to submit to Galactic Law. You are under the protection of the Consortium of Planets. We will be deploying a detachment of the Navy to protect you from possible pirate raids, and to prevent domestic disturbances.

We are also willing to share cultural information about our races, their poetry, art, history and characters. You may submit yours if you wish. Technology will be shared after a grace period of – 134,342 – of your home world’s solar days.

Failure to submit to the law will yield a disciplinary embargo of your planet. Our technology so outmatches yours, we do not need to take aggressive action. You will not be permitted to explore past your own solar system.”

It worked, as usual. I left vast amounts of data for them to peruse. Bylaws, and all the fun details of life within the Consortium. Taxes.

I kind of missed the days when they tried to fight back. But the only display that is needed is to steal their sun. A massive blockade of solar panels suffices to kill a world. Fairly nonviolent.

The large creature seemed to cower a bit. Then as it began to sign the line it shrieked and coiled up, appearing to pounce. The first squad shot their net grenades at the creature and the electricity has no effect on it.

The force pushed it back into the corridor and the smaller versions began to pile out of the closed up shops. Thunder of assault rifles echoed, and my earbuds muffled the sound to protect my hearing. With a thought I relayed to CENTCOM that shit had, indeed, hit the fan.

The high powered assault rifles tore into the creatures. They fell falling forward. Reaching.

The nets on the large one toggled to high heat mode as it regained its footing. Bright orange patchwork sizzled hungrily and brought screams from the alien.

I stepped up to it as the last Glarkan died bleeding green blood and my men reloaded. I placed a stasis field around it. A fine specimen. I plugged into its field a computer program that matched the beings neural waves. So to implant suggestions into it. And time could be manipulated with the stasis field. A minute could be a hundred years of whispers in the darkness.

The blue shield vanished as I stuffed the device stuffed back into my pocket. The 8 eyes of the ancient creature shuddered and were followed by a low hum with a click.

An alien “OK”.

 

Impossible.  Something from another galaxy?  Their technology must be —

“Sir,” A Fleuon broke his train of thought. “We are detecting strange readings from our long-distance sensors.  Oscillating frequencies on radio and sub-space bands.  They seem to be working to mimic neural patterns.”

“What?” I whispered.  Suddenly a voice came from all around, echoing within the CIC.

“Please submit.  We do not wish to rule over another dead galaxy.”  The voice was deep, and resonated in such a way that shook his bones.

“Get the marines ready.  Make sure all torpedo tubes are loaded to bear, and get anything that is space-worthy into the launch bay.  Are communications down?”

“Yes, sir.” They all chimed in.

“Naturally.” I spat into the air.

Suddenly the Fleuons all convulsed violently, some sprayed out green fluid onto their consoles and shook so hard that their tentacles dented metal.  After several moments, they were all slumped over and dead.  I ran to the nearest, and felt that its normally soft body was now stiff.  Definitely dead.

The voice chided him. “We have destroyed your methods of control and communications by attacking the brain waves of those beings that run your ships.  Please do not make us alter the wavelengths of our weapons to your neural frequency.”

I collapsed in my chair, silent.  Alarms flashed on consoles.

“Prepare to be boarded.”

I was as ready as I ever would be.

 

tales of a travelling salesman final

Thanks for reading, friend!

Should I write more about this character?

In the meantime, read this story my grandmother told me.

Probably Just a Bug-Bite

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I was working late in a rural school, when the power went out. I was the night janitor, a job I had always enjoyed because of the relative solitude. I could sleep all day and relax for a bit before driving to work. I would bring my headphones and listen to some Silversun Pickups or Andrew Bird while I swept and mopped up the refuse from the day. Every day the halls were left filled with broken pencils and crumpled up papers with forgotten love scribbled inside. Sometimes I read the notes, and chuckled at their eager egos reaching for some strange ideal of romance. Sometimes I just sneaked a quick bowl and zoned out into my work and the music. Each day blended beautifully into the next. Rent was paid, snacks were bought, and small bits of my check I managed to save. I was content with my confident mediocrity.

Until the night the lights went out, I was enjoying the relaxing waves of soft rain on window panes.

The darkness washed down the hallway I was standing in like a splash of obsidian. It’s difficult to describe the feeling I had, but it was not a normal, healthy fear of the dark. I felt… Unnerved. I knew it wasn’t true, but I felt like I was being watched by the inky black that surrounded me and touched by the silence that swarmed and swirled.

I stood still for some time, expecting to hear the backup generators kick on or the clicking drone of emergency lights. But the only thing I heard was a loud metal clanging that shot down the hall and into my bones. Frozen. Reverberations shook my bones. Helpless. I stood as if locked in a dream. I felt like a child, confused. Silence finally began to echo and ring and ring and ring in my ears.

It must have been a dream. I must have fallen asleep. This must have been a dream, right? I don’t even believe myself as I begin to think of how to write this…

The lights finally kicked on as the sound ended, with a hum and a flicker. And I saw I wasn’t alone.

I caught a glimpse of a large hominid whirling away around a corner. Legs were too long, and the arms were longer. Slender. Pallid. Vein-y. I remember the veins. Thick and purple on a skinny frame. I could have sworn I saw them throb hungrily.

Next thing I knew, I was sitting in a chair in a classroom. I felt cold, and I shivered. I felt disoriented and my vision was blurry as a soft lightning flash illuminated the room with the slightest gleam. Slowly getting to my feet, my eyes noticed the room number posted on the board amidst reminders and notes. The room was in that hallway I was in, or that I thought I was in before…

I found my coworker after running outside into the breezy night rain and into another building. I must have looked wild, because he asked if I was OK. I wasn’t. I’m still not.

My partner said the lights never went out.

And it’s been two days, and I thought it was an exhaustion-induced hallucination because I hadn’t been sleeping recently. My dog has been constantly barking at the clouds and the squirrels that have moved into the roof of my home, constantly scratching and squealing.

But now I have a unusual dot where my bicep meets the forearm. Sight bruising, too. As if I had gotten stung or poked.

Now that I look closely, it’s starting to seem infected. The bruising is a dark hue, darker than even when I broke a bone as a child. And the veins are thicker around that dot. And my head… aches. Constant throbbing.

Maybe I should drive to the city hospital, an hour’s drive away. Those big-city doctors will know what this is.

Probably just a bug-bite, mixed with this fever and paranoia.

Yeah. That’s it. Still gonna go check and make sure.

Make sure it’s nothing serious.

“An astronaut in orbit submits an Amazon Prime order (free two day shipping) as a joke, with the address set to the ISS. Amazon does not think this is a joke.”

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“Hey, Johnson. Are you sure you are ready for this?”

“Yes sir,” Johnson whispered to hide his trembling voice. “But are you sure this isn’t just a joke?”

“You’re lucky you’re the only one willing to do this, or I would fire you like I fired the other folks who asked. We have a reputation to uphold. Now buckle up, and good luck!” The shipping manager stepped away from the hatch and sealed it shut, as Johnson buckled up.

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A Tale from the Sea

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I went out fishing on my boat the other day. Packed everything I needed to be out overnight: some food, chips, water, and of course — beer. I finally got some time off of work, and I intended to make the most of a three day weekend.

I took the 20 footer out into the Gulf of Mexico, loaded to bear with bait and extra thick fishing line. 100 pound test line. I was going to go for the big Kahuna. The day I went out was clear and windless, the sun hot in the sky. I brought my pup out there with me since he loved being on the water. If he got too hot, he would hop in for a swim. Odds are I would join him if I was bored.

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