Kent’s Problem

This story first appeared  May 19, 2013.
And my name is really not William Q. Colby, it’s just the name of the blog.
My real name is Kent Bonham.
Phone Booth JHC.jpg
Great photo, J. Hardy Carroll!
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields operates this Flash Fiction store.  Please check for coupons.


“KENT!  Long time no see!”

“Um … hi, Reggie.”  Oh, great!  Always at a time like this.   He’ll talk about his kids and “the missus” while I’m in a hurry!  The guy annoys me, always has and just when there’s an emergency, too!  “I was just about to make a phone call …”

“On THAT?  Nobody uses that pay telephone anymore!”

Hey!  I can suck up the air around him!   Maybe that’ll knock him out.  


Did it!  I’ll just hang my suit and glasses here like I always do.  That dinosaur is almost over the Metropolis skyline! 

“Up, up, and away!”


And you all thought it was about ME, huh?   Eh … I’ll never tell.  😉

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The Ride of A Lifetime


EXPLANATION OF PHOTO:  I took this picture in Bethlehem, Israel.  I was so excited to see a thirty year-old Kansas license plate in the window.  It is from Reno County and the “J” is the first letter of the last name of the owner.  I never found out whose car this was.

Anyway …

Let’s talk about trains and how a train ride made all the difference.



Willie saw the impressive turnout for the memorial service.

An older gentleman turned to him and asked, “You had family on the train?”

“Yes, my grandfather.  You?”

“Yes, I actually was on the train.  Lived here in London since.”  He glanced through his program.  “I was all of seven when I met Nicky.  It feels quite odd to call him Sir Nicholas.”  He paused, then laughed.  “Can you imagine?  A man goes on two-week holiday and ends up years later with hundreds of children?”

A woman approached the dais.  “I’m Barbara Winton, and on behalf of the Winton family …”


Sir Nicholas Winton, organizer of the Kinder Transport that saved the lives of many Jewish children during World War II.




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Whose Names I Don’t Know …

It’s a two-for-one day!  Yes, two stories for the price of one.  An old one and its new concluding sequel.

On May 28, 2014, I wrote a story called Second Star On The Right with some explanation below.

Before we begin …

EDITOR’S NOTE: The following is a message intercepted one night by a HAM radio operator named Kevin who originally hailed from Flanders. The language spoken, he told me, sounded something like a sort of “High Flemish,” if there were such a thing. “I felt very sorry for the woman transmitting,” he later told me. “She sounded so sad.” He copied it down in English, went to the library and borrowed a first edition Caldecott book.

The message was as follows.


My explanation of what happened to us afterward will solve the mystery our home world has wondered about.

After we arrived, we escaped detection by our language being similar to that of a tribe called Flemings and clearing our pallor by eating a vegetable called the green bean.  We had a benefactor and lived happy lives on Earth, not unhappy as some feared.

I’ve been alone since my brother’s untimely death and been chronicled many times in Earth legends. I’ve decided to die here on planet Earth.

A doleful story? No. I lived a life richer than I ever dreamed.


Janet Webb French Still Life.jpg

Thanks, Janet Webb, for a really great picture that inspired the sequel.

Now, the conclusion.


He heard the signal from star “Ni-Etrell’s” third planet, “Gna-Jala.”

Gna-Jala —- where his lovely Koo-Brindii and her brother were lost forever, centuries ago.

The message, barely readable, sounded almost like a lower version of his own language.

“… Kevin.  Our planet … called Earth.  I intercepted her signal … seems … toward Alpha Centauri … If by … you’re reading this …  how sorry I am for … loss.  She … on Earth, immortalized in …  book.  I … read it to you … her memory.


‘My dear, do you know,

How a long time ago,

Two poor little children,

Whose names I don’t know,

Were stolen away … ‘ “


The legend of The Green Children of Woolpit served as the inspiration for this story.


Also, the full poem “The Babes In The Wood” is included



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Adult Education


Claire Sheldon.jpg

Today’s photo is courtesy of Claire Sheldon.  Thanks, Claire.  It reminds me of homework and school days.

When this story first appeared in its original form on May 21, 2014, it became, and remains, my most commented-on posting.  Let’s see if lightning strikes twice.

First, read the story, then click on the link below it.  It is based on a news story my former station ran.  You’ll get to see American local TV and the two wonderful people I worked with.


Laura put her arms around Mike’s neck and kissed it.

She cooed.“Whatcha thinkin’ about, baby?”

Mike struggled with the words. “You, me, those sensational nights together.  I think you can guess the rest.”

She stiffened.  “You’re in love with me?”

He nodded. “OK.  So, this wasn’t in our agreement, but …”

She pushed herself away. “No, Mike! I am graduating this semester.  Don’t screw up a good thing.”

Mike saw in her eyes that it was over.

He wrote a check with ones and many zeroes for her final college semester and handed it to her. “You could do worse.”


Looking inside the dating world of Sugar Daddies and Sugar Babies

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COMING SOON — My first long-form story in serialized editions will be presented in the coming year.  Please look for it on this blog.  I’ll let you know when.

Since this is “Rochelle Week” with the pic, and a good one at that, I, too, have some of my own memories of that great Land to the East.  So, now MY contribution.

The following first appeared November 13, 2013.  The story title’s meaning is at the bottom of the story itself.

It’s always a great thing to poke a little fun at culture.  To wit —




I spoke my best Hebrew to the passerby.  “Chaim Glicksman.  Where is he?”

The passerby answered in English.  “Down that way.  Christian Quarter.”

Chaim saw me right in the street.  “Shalom, my friend!”

I shook his hand.  “Chaim, what’s a nice Orthodox boy like you doing in the Christian Quarter?”

“Not every Jew is an Israeli, not every Israeli a Jew.”

“How is Ayelet?”

“My wife is fine, although we suffered a loss recently.  My daughter lit a candle and accidentally set Ayelet’s hair on fire.”

“That’s terrible!  Is Ayelet all right?”

“Of COURSE.  She wasn’t home at the time.”



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A Slow News Day?


Ted Strutz on the Ferry in the rain.jpgUnfortunately in the news business, sometimes the reporters “become” the news with tragic results.  Reporter Kelly and Engineer Dan found this out on a live shot … almost.

This story first appeared in its original form June 26, 2013.  It has been re-written.

Photojournalist is Ted Strutz with his amazing picture.  Ted, you keep us going on slow days.

Stand by … in three … two … one …


Sparks flew overhead.

“Kelly!  Don’t!!!”

“I gotta get OUT of here!”

“A live wire’s tangled in the mast.  Truck’s electrified!  Step out and you’re DEAD!”

“Dan, that pole’s gonna crash down any second!”

“Listen, Kelly.  Put both feet together, OK?  Jump out, LAND on them together.  Then, take TINY baby steps toward me.”

Kelly held her breath and jumped onto the pavement.  Ten baby steps later, she fell into Dan’s arms. The pole fell, the truck exploded in flames.

“You OK?”

Kelly puffed.  “Fine.”

Dan shrugged, nervously chuckling.  “Guess we thumb a ride and declare a slow news day, huh?”


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Nerds Unlimited

Dale Rogerson4.jpg

This fun pic is being brought to you by the “Dale-ectable” Dale Rogerson.  Thank-you, Dale.  I can’t wait to see you serving up that chicken soup you promised me and je préviens de vous voir porter aussi votre costume de femme de chambre. 


OK, so, you’re getting a re-run.  This story first appeared March 12, 2016.

The title has nothing to do with the story, yet it does.  It has more to do with the reader of it, maybe even the author.  We’ll see.

Dedicated to all our British friends.


They always traveled together, so Steve felt it was the time to make the play.  He turned his chair, looked her in the face.

“Listen, we’ve been doing this for a long time now and I just want you to know I’m very fond of you.”  The rest of the speech seemed to work, until he started to sing the most “romantic” song he could think of.

“My heart would be a fireball, a fireball if you would be my Venus of the sta-a-ars.”

Venus stared at him with disdain.  “Forget it, Zodiac.  I have a pulled neck string.”



Enjoy the Fireball XL5 theme song!



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