Footprint In the Sand

Flash fiction for the latest Carrot Ranch Communications prompt.

Content warning: Death

Footprint In the Sand

The next day we decided to walk by the scene again. There were still two half-empty water bottles lying there. No one had noticed them in the chaos, and now they were probably just seen as litter. There were lots of footprints around, most of them smudged and indistinct. One stood out, though. “Doesn’t this look like the tread from those fancy boots he always wore?” It definitely did. We wondered if that might’ve been left by the last step the man took, but neither of us decided to ask. We just picked up the bottles and walked away.


It’s Shawna’s Birthday, and I Am So Not Ready

Devon of SynDolly fame issued another birthday challenge. This time it was for Shawna Ayoub Ainsle who rules the Honeyed Quill with a velvet glove (no iron fist) and has been featured on all kinds of great sites too numerous to list.

The challenge was to write about 16 things we’re grateful for. I had a potentially good idea that would feature pictures which is something I need to do more of anyway. So I set about taking pictures of things I’m grateful for likĀ mugs to hold hot beverages in the wintertime…

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Mid-Month Miscellany for October 2016

Content Warning: Death, racism, Trump, abusive/predatory behavior and enabling

I wrote recently about a lost friend. Another old war buddy died last summer. Sometime I need to write a proper tribute for both.

Fellow Linkyourlifer Lady Wilks posted a nice tribute for the 30th anniversary of “A Different World”. I was a fan of the show (and had a crush on that white girl who left after the first season). I enjoyed a few shows like this and ones featuring “Jeffersons” alums such as “227” and “Amen”. I caught heat for watching “black doo-doo” (described with different words). Not to call myself colorblind, but I just thought of them as funny shows. They also taught me a little about African-American culture and made more comfortable with the type of people I saw in those shows. Maybe we all need to watch a little more “black doo-doo”. Continue reading

Carl: A Big Brown Dog Flash Fiction Story

Written for the Carrot Ranch Communications prompt, “Big Brown Dog”.


People often ask what breed Carl is, and I always give the same answer, “big brown dog”. I got him from a shelter when he was just a tiny puppy. I think they rescued him from a hoarder. I named him after a friend I had just lost. It tuned out to be a great idea as their personalities were so similar, sweet and playful but with no patience for fools. They both got me through some hard times. Now we’re both getting to the end of our time the way we all should, old and tired and content.

If I Don’t Say It, Maybe My Friend Won’t Be Dead

CW: Death, war, suicide

More people with whom I went to war have died by suicide than from combat. Another may have been added to that list. No cause of death has been mentioned yet, but it was probably suicide or somehow related to one of the physical ailments the VA failed to treat properly.

He was more than a war buddy. He was a good friend, one of the few people I’ve kept up with post-military. It probably had a lot to do with all we had in common outside of the Army life. We grew up not many miles apart in rival college towns. We were both grumpy old farts who had enlisted late in life. We were of the same generation, often out of touch with the culture of our younger comrades.

Just after getting home from Afghanistan and just before we got good and drunk
Just after getting home from Afghanistan and just before we got good and drunk

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How I (Might’ve) Lost My Girlfriend

My girlfriend is a big fan of some musician whose name I can’t recall at the moment. He recently published a memoir and was doing a limited book signing tour in support. My girlfriend was incredibly excited and made plans to attend. There was just one problem. She needed tickets and assigned me to the task.

Apparently this musician is quite popular. Earlier tour stops had sold out quickly. She gave me a date and time for tickets sales for his appearanceĀ at Powell’s City of Books in Portland, Oregon and several reminders leading up to it. She seemed pretty invested in going to this event. I was worried my relationship might depend on making it happen, but doing so might’ve actually caused it to end.

Waiting on a famous guy...
Waiting on a famous guy…

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