Janet Flash: Bondage, James Bondage

by Michael Seese

"A new wrinkle in flash fiction! I've been pulling out my hair with homophones recently, so time to get some use out of the damn things." So sayeth Janet Reid. As such, for this week's flash fiction contest, we had to use:


chic
sheik
praise
prays
preys 

And the Steve Forti torture words (Janet's torture, mainly) pain, pane

I was trying to come up with something that really played with the words. But when I hit on the way to split up "sheik," the rest fell into place, resulting in "Bondage, James Bondage.)


"You put up a valiant fight," I said.

"Lofty praise coming from a prey so… manhandacled."
 
Mangled malaprop aside, I couldn't argue. I've had better Saturday evenings cuffed to a chair.
 
"She's not coming, is she?" I knew the answer. But I needed his vanity to betray him. "You'd best pray she's unharmed. So, where is she?"
 
"The rain in Spain stays mainly...."
 
Spain! No doubt on his yacht, that floating pan-European phallic symbol. Now to roast this chicken.
 
"Speaking of prayers," he slobbered, moving in for the kill, unprepared for the flamethrower stashed in my cravat.
 
On to Barcelona.

No word on the winner yet, so my fingers remain crossed. (And they're starting to cramp.)

Flash! Friday: Kid Spies

by Michael Seese

A little whimsy for my first Flash Friday of 2015.

Here is the photo:

And here is "Kid Spies."

My name. Bomb. James Bomb.

My drink. Shirley Temple. Shaken, not shtirred.

My super-secret mission. Following Missy Jacobs, a villain of the most oderous kind, to her hideout. I need to find it, and neuterize her using any means necessary, including and if necessary, my super-secret Booger Gun.

Missy is dangerous, and smart. On Maple Street, she nearly catches me. I hide behind an electrical thingy. But when I look, she is gone. I run to her last known position. I look up. There, I see the name:

Dazzle!

Oh no! That’s where they all go to re-energize their Cootie Rays. Entry is impossible. I wait, and write down in my super-secret journal everything I learned about tracking girls. I should share this intell with Dad. Maybe he can use it to find Mom.

Suddenly, the door opens, and Missy steps out. Before I can react, she kisses me with her Cootie Ray.

Ack!

Can’t breathe...

Lights fading...

Mission...

Failure...

OK, so there is a little underlying sadness.

We'll see what the judges think. How about you all?