Tag Archives: Flash Fiction




My ear was itching in that deep down, hard to reach place. I tried for several days to scratch it by trial and error. Sticking my finger in there, jiggling it around did not help. Doing that thing with my tongue, scratching my throat did not help. Carefully inserting a cotton swab a little ways in did not work either. I tried flushing it out with warm water, then suctioning it out. This just made it worse. Now every sound was muffled, and the itch was still there.

There was no relief. Itching day and night was taking it’s toll on me. Lack of sleep, and unable to concentrate on daily activities caused me to call in sick to my place of employment on more than one occasion as the days and weeks went by.

I didn’t want to, but I made an appointment with the ear, nose, and throat doctor. The exam, which included tiny lights being shone down my ear canal, and small wire probing instruments poked down inside, turned up no clear cut diagnosis. I was sent home with only some ear drops.

After one day of using the drops, I noticed a change. The itching was barely noticeable now, but very faintly I could hear music. Even when in the silence of my house, I could hear snippets of songs, one after the other. Day by day the music became louder until it was a perfect volume.

I was able to shake my head, and the music would change to another song like magic. It was very strange, but at least it was not the infernal itching. In fact, I kind of enjoyed it, this radio in my head…turn my head, change the station, as often as I wanted.

All kinds of music was represented. I’d go about my business, at home or work, walking down the sidewalk, or shopping and be listening to a soundtrack to my days. Lucky for me, it would stop when I went to bed, so that was appreciated.

I had no need of my I-Pod anymore. I didn’t even feel embarrassed when I banged my head, or did a sudden hip-hop move in the grocery store. I even showed some people waiting at the bus stop my awesome ballet pirouettes.  Most people smiled along with me. A few tried some dance moves themselves, but I knew they couldn’t hear my music. They had their earbuds plugged into their own ears. Mine was internal, organic, awesome.

Word got around soon enough. I even had an interview that was broadcast on local television. Did that make me a celebrity? I think it did. After all, I sang and danced on camera, and now was recognized everywhere I went.

I did have one strange phone call, though. It was from a travelling troupe of performers. Their talent scout asked if I wanted to tour the fifty states with their “Amazing Freak Show”. I would be billed as “The Woman Who Hears Music In Her Head”. They promised a nice paycheck, a giant poster of me, smiling, free carnival rides, and all the cotton candy I could ever want.

I reluctantly had to turn them down. To be honest, after a year of constant music, I was beginning to be annoyed. I mean, the same playlist was on a thousand song replay. After I’d heard them three hundred sixty five days in a row, it was getting to me…and not in a good way. My dancing was becoming jerky, and I was forgetting the words to songs. More and more I’d find myself blocking out whole genres of music.

It happened gradually. I began to feel the tiny tickles of the itch coming back. After about a month, it was in full force again, and the music had completely stopped. The itching was much worse this time, so I made another doctor appointment. This time, to my relief, the doctor made a definite diagnosis.

As he reached into my ear with his long tweezers, he pulled out an object, putting it on a paper covered tray in front of me. I recoiled in horror at the sight of it.

“What in hell is that?” I managed to ask.

“You have had a bad case of Heliocoverpa zea…earworms.”


*earworm…a catchy piece of music that continually repeats through a person’s mind.

*Heliocoverpa zea…the larva of the moth commonly known as corn earworm.


Originally posted on 12/17/13 on Blogger


Thanks for visiting! Peace }i{

© 2017 BS



Just another little story using the words from the game “Words With Friends”. I try to use all the words played in the game to make up a short, fun piece. The words from the game are in bold … Enjoy! 




Mr. and Mrs. Spiros had a plan. They wanted to own and open a Greek restaurant in their town. Nothing would deter them.

After much hard work and determination, it was finally within reach. They opened their dream restaurant on the third day of the month, and called it “Spiros Gyros“. It had been a small, worn, building when they bought it, but they knew if it was a success, they could expand to a larger storefront.

Mrs. Spiros would be doing the cooking, as it was her family’s recipes, from the old country, she’d be using. She was also very good at peeling potatoes. Mr. Spiros would be running the business side of the shop. First, though, they had to hire a couple of employees. After interviewing several hopefuls, they hired Ne-Na and Di, as waitresses. The girls were young, but were told if they did a good job, there wouldn’t be any cussing from the management.

The restaurant was located on Ox Rout Lane. They hoped to lure customers from the nearby homes, and woo them with their delicious gyros and pita bread meals. The menu included thin shaved meat, and a berry bowl with heavy cream, for desert.

Sometimes, Mr. Spiros would lend a hand in the kitchen, taking jabs and zags at the meat. Mrs. Spiros would tend to the cooking, and wrapping the food in foilIt was a good working relationship.

Di would greet customers, as they came in, with a wave, and say “Hi“, and Ne-Na would jot down their orders on her note pad. The patrons never said ‘yuch‘ at how their food tasted. It was all good.

The owners were happy to give back to the community. They provided entertainment while the customers ate; a duet would sing arias, with ease. Every night they’d sing the same ones. When their contract was over, they went on to find fame in the big city. They didn’t just fade away. You may have heard of them…Qi-Nor and A-Bod.

So, in the end, the Greek restaurant Mr. and Mrs. Spiros envisioned long ago, found fame, too. It became the ‘go to’ place for many years.


Thanks for stopping by! 🙂



Here is another little story I wrote using the words from the online scrabble game “Words With Friends”. The words in bold are the words that were played on the game board. Hope you enjoy it!


They were modern day hobos, Quin and Helio. They always figured it would be fun to go on a tear, and join in the weekly races held in their little country town. The thing was, everyone knew them.

They’d been friends since childhood, always together, getting into all kinds of zany situations. Once upon a time, the older generation teased them, called them dotty, which maybe they were, but then, they didn’t care. They’d just laugh it off.

So, it was decided. They both took plenty of vitamins in the days before the race. They wanted to look hep, so they put on their fake furs and top hats, and stood in a row at the starting line.

The ref nudged the judge. “Look at them, the judge said. “I’d trade jobs with you, if I could.”

Ley, you’re too anal for my job. You’d tag the wrong one, before the ink is even dry on the entry form.”

Si, you have a point, Baal,” said Ley. They both laughed.

“But, what if you put a hex on them? When they get to mid point, they’ll probably shed those furs. They can vie it out better.”

“Don’t nag me, Ley. I’ll do it. I’m gonna make Quin veer off course. He will trip over his own feet, fall and skin his knee. It will ooze blood. We will rush him to the ER, and he will feel woe at that time. It’ll teach those two fakers a lesson. Don’t put on airs in this town – we know who you really are.”

“Ah,” said Ley, “very good. Shall we start the races?”

Baal nodded and smiled, as he shot the starter gun into the sky.



Here’s a little story I made up, using words from an online scrabble game called “Words With Friends”. These are fun to do…I just try to use all the words that have been played…try to make them fit into a quick little story. The words in bold are the words from the game. Enjoy!


Cue intro music and cool graphics…

“Good evening fans. Here it is Friday night, and we are swamped with updates here in our studio.

As always, we don’t try to demean anyone here…we’re just reporting the news as it happens. We oft get complaints from people who flip their wigs over our reg. news content. I say, if you can’t take a jab at someone as a joke, then Bro, you’re bent outta shape. This is raw and in your face. I don’t give a fig what anyone thinks.

So, without further ado, Lee will start us off with our first story.”

“Hi, Lee, what is our top story of the night?

“Ed, it would be the drag event, held at the ER disco ballroom, last evening. It was supposed to be a stag party for the groom to be, a foreigner by the name of Chine Zoa. The ETA of this shindig was to be 7 p.m. Everyone was to come dressed in drag. A Drag/Stag party. Well, the ballroom was set up nice, but the management nixed the addition of slot machines.

Then, Mike, the best man, threw dye into the decorative fountain, that turned the water as green as clover. The manager hies to the scene, and as he’s yelling at everyone, Ti and Qi, the twin viola players, hired for musical tunes, jump into the fountain. This caused a riot, as they can’t swim and needed to have the life bouys thrown in to save them.

There was chaos and looting, and it was not contained until midnight.”

“That was the highlight of our news cast. Thank you, Lee. We bid you adieu. Tune in tomorrow for more of…

Cue dramatic exit music and cool graphics…

The Exposer!!”



Just a little story I made up….enjoy!


“Hear ye, hear ye! May I have your attention, please!” the mayor shouted through the bullhorn. As the crowd of townspeople faced him, he cleared his throat, before speaking.

“Thank you all for coming. We are blessed to be here in this historical city park, today. As many of you have heard, we are here to dedicate our first public art piece. It is a beautiful symbol of our forefathers, built to commemorate…” he continued, as people nudged one another. The mayor was known for being long-winded.

“Get on with it, Mayor,” yelled one man.

“Yeah, unveil the art, already,” yelled another.

Others took up the chant, now…”Unveil the art…unveil the art.”

As the voices of his constituent’s grew louder, the mayor’s speech was cut short.

“Very well,” he nodded to two councilmen, standing by a large, tarp covered, mystery piece of art.

People had been speculating for weeks, even taking bets on what it would be. The time to see it had arrived. As the drape was pulled off, there was a collective gasp from the crowd.

“Oh, my God, it’s so big.” … “That’s not politically correct, Mayor.” …”We can’t have this here, representing our town.” … “It’s an embarrassment.”

Everyone had an opinion, but none of them counted toward rectifying the awkward situation.

“People, people, settle down,” the Mayor urged, again yelling through the bullhorn.  “The artwork will remain in place. There is no more discussion. Please disperse…the meeting is over.”

Some of the people grumbled as they left the park. Others came close, to touch the giant, metal sculpture. Pictures were taken, but as the evening turned into night, the park was soon empty. The only illumination now came from the footlights surrounding the very large bow and arrow.


Around midnight, people were startled from their sleep by a loud sound. As no one watched, the giant, metal arrow was pulled back. It swished through the night air with an earsplitting twang. Rushing from their homes, everyone screamed, as they saw it zoom overhead, over their houses, and trees. Static electricity flickered off the sharp point. It found it’s mark, with a firery explosion. The Mayor’s mansion was struck, and the structure was fully engulfed.


A week later, the Mayor’s funeral was held. Several speakers delivered glowing speeches, and heartfelt eulogies for their fallen leader. The Mayor Pro-tem spoke of the art piece in the park, and the arrow that had so strangely shot through the air that night. Most everyone in the town wanted it torn down. However, it was not to be. The Mayor Pro-tem explained.

“The arrow had a note attached to it…it did not burn. The note said.. ‘You disrespected my ancestors by erecting cheap art on our land. You will not disprespect them further by tearing it down. If you disregard this message, the arrow will claim more lives, one by one until you all are eliminated or exiled, as my forefathers’s were.’…”

It was signed…The Archer