Hello, my brother and sister bloggers and writers. It’s the Old Soldier here with more great flash fiction and more great articles about writing flash fiction.
Now most of us like a little sex in our reading entertainment. So, if you haven’t done so already go to the top of the page and click on the tab, “Sexy Flash Fiction”.
Let The Gazette be your home for all things flash fiction.
Me, in the bandanna, and a friend at the concert of a Doors tribute band.
The Old Soldier grew up with the music of The Doors. Here’s a photo of me and a friend from about 10 years ago. Where do you think bloggers and flash fiction writers get their short story ideas from? You have to live it up in order to write it down.
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Forbidden Love
It was a warm, sunny April morning in downtown Pittsburgh. The letter Frank Everett got the day before from the State Civil Service Commission stated that only 10 people in the County of Allegheny had scored higher than he had on the State Civil Service Test. That meant he’d probably have a good job within the year. Once he got the job nobody could say he was a loser, a loser like his old man. How his mother stayed with his father Frank could never understand. His mother and father were just from a different generation. Frank was still in his twenties, but he’d never gone to college and found he could only get dead end jobs like the one he had now. Well, all that was going to change. He’d even brought the letter to work to show Rita. Rita Lopez was the only thing he would miss from his present job. Frank started putting down the stools on the dry floor. Rita would be in any minute.
With everything in place, Frank sat on a stool at the bar and smoked a cigarette. It was the best part of the day. Soon he wouldn’t have to work at night. He wouldn’t be on Public Assistance. When Rita came in he could always get a couple of beers on the house before the bar opened. Today he was hoping Rita would give him more than just a couple of beers. Rita might be forty-five but she was hot. She made her tips on low cut, short dresses that got even lower when she bent down to get a beer from the cooler for a customer. And there were her beautiful legs. Frank heard a key in the front door.
In a moment Rita came through the swinging doors. She was wearing her trade mark low cut, short dress with black pantyhose and white tennis shoes. “I put on the show for the customers,” she told him once. “But I’m not going to have my feet hurt.”
“Hi, Rita.”
“Frankie, the place is so nice and clean as usual. Would you like a beer? I’ll have a cigarette with you.”
“Thanks.”
She put her things away behind the bar and then bent down into a cooler to get his beer. The neck of her dress came open. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She had never had children. Many young women would be envious of her breasts. She looked up at him and saw him looking.
“My Frankie gets his own private show.”
“You’re my private dancer.”
She opened a bottle of Iron City and put it and a glass in front of him.
He said, “I got something to show you.”
“Good news?”
“I got the letter.” He put his cigarette in the ashtray on the bar.
“Let me see?” she said.
She came around and sat facing him on a stool. He took the letter from a pocket of his jeans and gave it to her. She unfolded it and began to read. Concentrating on the letter she crossed her beautiful legs, the short dress riding even higher. The black pantyhose accented the beauty of her legs. Frank thought of how young women didn’t seem to wear pantyhose any longer. He wondered what would happen if he reached out and squeezed her thigh. He turned to face her.
“Frankie, this is wonderful news.” She looked up at him, happy for him. “Oh, I’m going to miss you.”
“I won’t miss this place but I’ll miss you.”
“You’ll meet some nice sweet young thing and forget all about Rita.”
“No,” he said. “I really will miss you.” The bar seemed very quiet.
“That’s so sweet.”
“Rita?”
“Yes?”
He reached out and squeezed her thigh. There was a moment when nothing happened. There was only the thrill of the feel of her pantyhose and the warmth of her thigh. Then Frank felt a stinging sensation. She had slapped him. The entire left side of his face was stinging.
“Oh, Frankie, I’m so sorry.”
“No, no. That’s all right.”
“Why would you do such a thing?”
“I stepped out of line.”
“You don’t want to make a pass at me. Frankie, I’m old enough to be your mother.”
“No, it’s all right.”
He began to feel strangely more confident. He thought the slap had given him a certain advantage.
“You were right to slap me. But you’re not my mother. And I’m a man. And you’re a woman.”
He put his hand back on her thigh. She looked down at his hand. He saw she was breathing deeper. He got off his stool and uncrossed her legs. She was looking down at his hands as if she was hypnotized. He reached under her short dress and ran his hands slowly up and down her outer thighs, thrilling to the feel of her pantyhose and the warmth of her body.
“Frankie, what are you doing?”
“Something I’ve always wanted to do.”
“Frankie, this isn’t right.” She rested her hands on his shoulders…
Moments later Rita was on her back in a booth.
“That’s it,” she said. “That’s what Rita wants. That’s what I need.” She moaned.
“Rita, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this.”
“Do me, Frankie. Do me.”
Later that day Frank Everett and Rita Lopez began to make plans for the future.
Guy Hogan is my name and flash fiction is my game. If you love to read flash fiction, The Gazette has you covered. If you want articles full of useful advice and tips on the writing of flash fiction, The Gazette has you covered. And if you want to submit flash fiction, The Gazette has that covered, too.
So, bloggers and writers why don’t you look around and enjoy yourself. And tell all your friends that there’s a new kind of flash fiction publication on the web.
Image via Wikipedia
Detour Ahead
There was frost on the sidewalk and so I was glad she stopped to pick me up. I know you might think it was crazy of me to hitch-hike in this crazy day in age, but this was one of those desperate times. As soon as the door opened I heard Robert Palmer blasting “I Didn’t Mean to Turn You On.” She told me she had a weakness for music from the 80s, and shimmied a bit as she drove. Inside it smelled like watermelon bubblegum.
The night was so black I was afraid we’d be swallowed up at any second. Every minute or two I caught a glimpse of her profile. She had brown hair to her shoulders and very red lips. I had to compose myself because I’d never seen a woman as beautiful as her. She asked me where I came from, what I did for a living and how I ended up back there. It was refreshing to hear her voice because I felt a nameless dread build up in my chest. A large billboard advertising sunglasses illuminated the interior of her Toyota long enough for me to see her slender ankles. Before I could look twice I noticed she was driving barefoot.
Halfway to my destination she passed a pickup truck and laughed as I told her that some people take yellow lines seriously. When we arrived at my destination she held her slender hands out, palms up and said, “That’ll be ten bucks,” smiling with perfect teeth. She was a picture of symmetry.
By then she knew I was flat broke, so I promised to write a story about her. She grinned and said, “Yeah, right,” squealing away, kicking dirt and dust into the still night air.
Bio Note:
Aaron Sommers lives in New Hampshire. When not shoveling snow, he’s fending off invisible fans of his fiction.
With official unemployment in the United States headed for %10 of the work force (the unofficial unemployment rate is much higher) this is not a particularly happy labor day…
But the business of blogging and writing must go on. So, Creative Writing: Words Will Set Your Ideas Free explores the intimate connection among words, ideas and the imagination.
Bloggers, students and writers will find more articles on writing and great flash fiction in the sidebar on the right.
Stuck for a good idea for a flash fiction story? Need to get your creative juices flowing again? There’s no better way of coming up with new writing ideas and new content then checking out the flash fiction stories and articles on the Gazette.
The stories capture a moment in time and the articles are full of useful tips and advice. Go to the sidebar on the right and click on what you like.
Great American Flash Fiction Stories To Read
September 25, 2009 — pittsburghflashfictiongazetteThe Gazette is home to flash fiction, micro fiction, mini fiction and the very short story. Here you will find stories about boyfriends and girlfriends, husbands and wives and stories about lovers. There are stories about love and lust.
Writing flash fiction is not easy. For the best examples of dialogue driven flash fiction, go to the side bar on the right for “Great American Flash Fiction Stories To Read”.