Another small bit of flash fiction for your reading pleasure.Parlor TricksMy father has detachable ears.Oh, you’d think it was a great trick and all, much better than the stale bit Uncle Sal pulls every Easter/Thanksgiving/Christmas when he asked one of the little kids to “pull his finger.”

Moving DayMy agent convinces me that a move to into the city will be good for my career, which has cooled since moving to the ‘burbs.I say OK, but nothing pretentious. No SoHo loft, nothing in Tribeca.I ask my assistant to find me something sensible, sedate, but with good parking.He finds me a smal

The prompt over at Sunday Scribblings is "For Richer or Poorer;" I started something that needs a lot of revision. Too much for one day.And as I thought about it, this Cinquain came to mind:Richnessis not wealth, things,but the gathering of f

Still enjoying the construction of the poetic form of the Cinquain.Hopeless,she stamps her feet,telegraphs desperate prayers,willing a heart bent by deceitto trust

I first saw this video on B's blog and found it amazingly uplifting. To introduce it, an American Sentence:"Validation, the milk that feeds wayward souls on life’s big carousel.""Validation"

I'll admit it - I didn't get home from New Year's festivities until 3:30 a.m.I didn't sleep in, either.I had the option of curling up on the couch, watch football, sip tea and maybe take a nap.Or ride 10 m

A friend wanted to know what resolutions I intend to make for 2009.I said none.I’m of a mind that if you should be doing something good, or better, you’d be better off starting right away, rather than wait for a mark like the start of a new week, or new year.Then, I read what Kelly wrote over at

The word prompts over at Three Word Wednesday are glimmer, passion and wish.I decided to try another Cinquain.Passion,Bodies entwined,Secret wishes whispered,Inhibitions, lust give way to…Glimmer

A Cinquain is a five-line poem. A Crapsey Cinquain (for Adelaide Crapsey) has a construction with a syllable count of two-four-six-eight-two. Several writers who contribute to

You're thinking, "Hey, a sentence is all I get? A 17-syllable one at that?"It's not as easy as it looks.It is the American Sentence.“Buried in warm sheets, he stares at ceiling swirls hoping for clarity.”

My first attempt at an American Sentence, created by Allen Ginsberg. It’s a sentence of haiku length, 17 syllables total:"I believe; that kernel of faith which drives my being forward, onward."

It's a good exercise, fiction or not....HomeChildhood bed, he’d waited until his parents’ king-size became his. The old sleeping bag - mom froze in time in a zippered plastic tote - smells of comfort.Fingers run across spines of books; he dares himself to peek at his eighth grade graduation photo

My dad wanted to get in some exercise, which means wandering the Wal-Marts.I took this picture out in the parking lot, then played "What person belongs to this car?" while inside.There were plenty of conte

I did not write this, but wish that I did. It was penned by former Argus Leader reporter Joumay Steen.People always ask why I moved to SoDak, where winter stretches brutal for months. It's not that bad.Besides, we're good at making fun of ourselves:WINTER IN SOUTH DAKOTAIt's winter in Sou

It’s not far-fetched for me to make a fashion statement.I mean, I routinely wear a rabbit-fur bomber hat around SoDak. I wear a cowboy hat.I have titanium earrings, for chirssakes.But I’m really

So many traditions, spread out across the globe.Christmastime.It's gotten to be a bit different around our house, even as we've all migrated back to the Midwest. Without mom, things are not always as they were - they are as they will be. They are what we make of them.And that's what it is in other househol

The words over at Three Word Wednesday are faith, miracle and whisper. Good words for this time of year.The GiftA sheet covers the window, colored push pins driven into the peeling wood; the sheet the color of limes that have turned.Curled as he was in bed, the light he tried to hinder continued to r

New snow is magic snow.It's quite tasty, too.I used to do it as a kid, pack a cup with freshly-fallen snow and then fill the cup with Kool-Aid that was mixed like syrup.Instant slushie.Monday night, the snow fell with a fluffiness that was beautiful to watch come down in the orange haze of the sodium

SADThe doctor’s diagnosis was seasonal affective disorder and he told her to sit in front of a lightbox for a half-hour every day.The vitamin D was great an all, but what she really wanted was a serotonin reuptake inhibitor, Recital maybe, Zoloft, or that classic standby, Prozac.“The darkness isn’t i

A little something for an interesting Sunday Scribblings prompt, in 100 words. Yep, that’s a Drabble.LateThe word hung in his head, stayed on the lips, a bitter bile.Collar up against the wind, it echoed in his ears.Over pizza - she’d let

My dogs are awful when it comes to taking pictures.I wish it wasn't so.They look like I beat them to get these shots.(Treats were handed out like government bail-out loans.)Fun with photography when you get up way too early, don't have a reliable four-wheel-drive and there's a blizzard out.Anyw

I killed my truck Thursday night.Headed home for dinner while working the night shift.I was on a downtown street, one-way, three lanes. I was in the right-hand lane.Some kids in a maroon Honda Civic were i

The exercise is called Fiction in 58. It's not as easy as it sounds. And sometimes, it has people wishing for more...imagination is the key to these.UnemployedThe snow on the rail platform had reached the consistency of paste, runny brown, salty; one hesitant step and sludge spatters across expensive wingt

The words over at Three Word Wednesday are hesitate, jealous and neglect.Sucker-Punch AdvancementThrough the tears, the wobbly haze – like a wavering horizon in the heat – she reappeared.Long tan overcoat, hose, heels. And outfit not meant for him.Bystanders put hands under armpits, tried t

Inspired by a real display in my neighborhood:Happy Christmas, Baby JesusHistory has a way of bouncing, rolling, depending on who is in power.The powerful, he knew, got to re-write history.But he stood there in the snowfall, spindrift swirling around his stopped frame, and contemplated the scen

This little thought has been in a notebook for far too long. I got up to pen something, and it ended up a Fiction in 58.My HometownStreetlight tints the snow that falls as I walk the streets of my hometown.We’d joke, before we all left, that the sidewalks got rolled up at night. Not so much rolled

The prompt over at Sunday Scribblings is “I knew instantly…” which was prompted by writers who told Meg and Laini, “Seeing the prompt, I knew instantly what to write.”That never happens to me. Huh. This is the stuff that comes to me, when I get a chance to think about it:Mad MenWhen Ryerson

Seth was prepared.He had already picked out two Christmas books that I would read to him."You can go first - and I think this one."It was "Olive, the Other Reindeer" by Vivian Walsh.Damn if I didn't keep getting choked up.Big blubberhead.So we're discussing all things Christmas and he's t

My iPod Nano is full.Nine hundred songs.And I had to pull music off to put new music on.Life's a dilemma like that.Always on the lookout for new musical tastes, I've been lucky this week. Blipping over at Blip.fm has provided some good stuff like The Mountain Go

This maybe didn't intend to be a Fiction in 58. The interesting thing was to write what I had thought about in the dark, see if I could whittle it down.Shut-InWarm air swirls in his flat, smells of fryer grease, stale sweat. He’s in stained boxers, socks where the elastic quit, disgruntled.There’

The words over at Three Word Wednesday at enemy, shatter and vague. Let’s try for a Drabble, 100 words and out. And no firearms for Miss Peachy-Plums. Sheesh.SpurnedShe was a cold dish, distant, back-ally frigid.Her heart, yeah, her heart

It’s a little exercise called Fiction in 58; tell a story in 58 words, no more, not less.Birdman of East 26th Ave.He’s crouched on the roof peak, ass on ankles like an old Asian woman, balanced precariously, weaves slightly - a bird on a wire.From the vantage point, he shades piercing blue eyes,

I watched crows, several of them, cavort in the wind on a sun-filled Sunday afternoon.They turned circles in a cold breeze, the wind canting their black wings to produce a rocking sensation.They’d act like they’d land on the top-most branches of winter-bare trees, pumping their wings at the last minute to tu

The these over at Sunday Scribblings is “Tradition.” This popped into my head and I decided to explore what it would be like for a son to follow in his father’s footsteps, even if it was very, very wrong.Like Father, Like Son“Reality is a complete pisser.”Dad said that, most often whe

It was a cheeseburger Happy Meal.You’d a thought I brought a New York strip with all the trimmings, or lobster thermador, maybeA McDonalds cheeseburger, fries, milk – a Shrek holiday toy.“I love fries, when they’re hot – and these are hot,” my mentee said. “I don’t even mind that you got me

I've been happily blipping for about a week now, building a music library of more than 300 songs.I've got 36 djs I listen to - and 76 people are listening to me.Blip.fm is like crack cocaine for music lovers, all over the world (the Brazilians seem very

I'm anal-retentive enough to be deeply concerned.I've not sent out Christmas cards yet.Hell, I haven't even bought any.Usually, I do the picture card. Pick the best shot from a year of doing crazy shite and throw it up on a card and call it good (even if the people "get it" or not).Trouble is,I didn'

The words over at Three Word Wednesday are balance, dictate and wander. Time dictates a Fiction in 58.Caroline Wheeler’s Birthday PresentShe wept, soft sobs balancing twin streams of tears that streaked elaborate makeup.The box was wrapped in

Lots of bits and pieces made the notebook overnight. Including an entire Six Sentence contribution that too rough to submit to Rob. I don't mind sharing it here:Halfway HouseBlinking neon flashes a desperate slideshow across cracked plaster; wet heat spil

My friend Q is convinced that Sioux Falls isn’t my final stop on a mangled journey that pretty much started when my mother died three years ago.“I will stick by my reading, ThomG...it was about you changing, moving to a different place in life in many ways.”My question was, “Where am I going

The prompt over at Sunday Scribblings is Winter Tale. I confess, I wrote this sometime back and it kind of got lost in the shuffle. I’ve made major tweaks here.Icicle ViewsIcicles hang like spindly glass fingers from frozen gutters.Snow bla

Dishes piled in the sink, dust bunnies cavorting in the hall, yesterday's clothing on, face unshaven.Don't bother me, I'm building my Blip library, giving props, listening to other DJs spreading cheer along the global music radar.Blip.fm is the 6-month-old microblog from

I was motoring north very early Friday, the iPod set on shuffle when The Replacements, "Alex Chilton" came on.Alex Chilton was born in Memphis and was in The Box Tops and Big Star. His compositions have been performed by This Mortal Coil, The Bangles, Wilco, Graham Coxon, Garbage, Son Volt, Counting Crows, Ellio

Hopefully, you're all tomenting your loved ones - friends and family alike - on this day to give thanks. May the turkey be moist and flavorful, the gravy without lumps - and nobody falls for your uncle's trick to "pull his finger."My very best wishes.And, as a special treat, a

The words over at Three Word Wednesday are fury, guilt, thankful. Did you know that the "Anarchist's Cookbook" is online?TroublemakerTry this: Press a .45 to someone’s temple – anyone, doesn’t matter - and ask them what they’re thankful for.

ListenLines of lyrical foolishness,seep from a wounded heart.Wither the angered poet,who senses not what is there:Orange-glow sunsets,laughter of children,scent of a lover,wine upon lips,a rise of gooseflesh.Consequence for what is forsaken,

A drabble is a story told in 100 words. Yeah, about right for a stay-at-home-sick Monday.Ambien-valentShe bangs into hallway walls like a pinball, in her fists cold French toast slathered in blackberry jam – globs of which have escaped onto flannel jammies.She’s in the grip of Ambien, two, taken

The prompt over at Sunday Scribblings is "grateful." An essay on my youth:BusterSo much junk hung off the bike, it wasn't for riding. Just pushing.And through the downtown streets of my hometown, Herman R. Jeseph - everyone just called him " Buster

I found a friend on Facebook recently, back from my days in Dallas (12 years ago).We traded numbers, then worked all week to try and talk. Friday night, we got to talk."I've gotta say I was just flabbergasted at how much life you spilled - your openness and honesty was so disarming. Alarming. Uh, charming," she

It's not drawn very well, but the writing is sharp and the humor is wicked. The Life & Times of Tim airs on HBO.ThomG says check it out:Spare ChangeDoctor's ExamMovie NightMeet the ParentsBum Raped