Flashbacks for 2017

Each year’s Hot Flashes–between 2002 and 2007, at any rate–has a Cafe Press store. Visit the Shop link on this web site to find out more.



I stamp and shout, “You are such a liar!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

He is. So I set his pants on fire. And I got in trouble!



I can hardly see. The sun shone an hour ago, and now my hike is a shuffle.

The drop-off was to my left.

Oh – from this direction, it would be to my –



Always greener, right? Somebody else’s?

My partner stole my wife and framed me for embezzlement.

Jail’s no picnic, but I wouldn’t trade places with him for the world. That grass, he can have.



Dogs nearly had me that time. Made it into the briars, though.

Belly full of parsley, panting with fear and exertion.

It’s a great life, if you don’t weaken, eh?


May Day

They tell me it comes from the French for “help me” – “m’aidez.”

I don’t want a damned linguistics lesson, I want a damned lifeboat!


The Find

“You sure it’s here?”

“The fool said only I would appreciate a first edition. Our secret. Now our secret.”

“I mean the key.”

“The key’s up here, in the porch rafters. Waiting for me.”

So was the brown recluse.


Dear Diary

When I saw the dress in his browsing history, 3 sizes too small and 15 years too young for me, I knew he was cheating. I’m overweight and aging, so I patched my broken heart and carried on.

But it was for me! Not me as I am, but me as he sees me.

Best birthday ever.



She was always happiest at the seaside. Met Denis there, married there, hoped to take kids there.

Now, a childless widow, she went alone. She swam until she could swim no farther, turned, and waved a cheery goodbye to it all.


Back to School

Even a professional can learn something new. Besides, new eyes on old techniques can freshen them up.

Advanced Hand-to-Hand With Edged Weapons sounds good.


Her Tree

I planted it for her. She’s: “It’s ugly. Messy. ”

Ten years.

Then she’s: “I’m leaving, LOSER!”

Everybody heard.

Nobody looked under her tree.

Which drops leaves a handful at a time. All. Season. Long.

She always was a beech!


Autumn in America

We posted: NO HUNTING. They tore down the signs. They constructed their stands on the flesh of our trees, shot the flesh of our deer and turkey.

What can be built can be unbuilt. Or, at least, weakened.

That’s why we call Autumn “Fall” in America.


Season’s Greetings

“Merry Christmas!”

“Pimento Olives!”

“What? Oh, I get it: red and green!”

They laughed, until we came in our spaceships. Now they celebrate OUR holiday. Or else.

Go to the Flashbacks link for all years’ Hot Flashes.


I was born in Louisville, Kentucky, but now live in the woods in southern Indiana. Though I only write fiction, I love to read non-fiction. The more I learn about this world, the more fantastic I see it is.

Comments are closed.