It Doesn’t Matter Where


Photo By Rochelle, Queen of the Blogosphere


The realtor took Bill around the hallway of the house, second level and opened the closet door.   “They installed a shower in here.  Isn’t that something?”

Bill thought for a second or two.  “I’d sure hate to see where they did their laundry.”

The realtor continued the tour.  “In the 1800’s, this house had no indoor toilet.”

Bill understood.  Considering the age of the house, even the best ones had outdoor privies.

“And because there was no indoor plumbing, the former tenants really improvised.”

“So, these former tenants … where did they go?”

“Um … I think they went to Branson.”


OK, so it’s not entirely original, but when nature calls, there is NO answering machine!

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The Inner Truth


Photo by C.E. Ayr.


Jeff worked weeks on the sculpture.

I, however,  got nauseated looking at it.  “So, what’s this supposed to be, anyway?”

Jeff wiped his hands on his smock.  “Inspiration’s from a picture of a meteor  a guy named ‘Ayr’ sent me. He commissioned me to do a sculpture for him. He said It fell from outer space.”

“More like it came from ‘inner’ space … someone’s lower bowels.”

“I’m using it to illustrate Ayr’s inner man:   his attitude, personality  …”

“Looks like something an elephant left behind.”

“I’m calling it ‘From Out Of The Ayr.’  Catchy, huh?”

“Oh yeah …  it did, all right.”



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Ten Years From Now

Unhappily, this is a true story that, as of this writing, the ending of it is still playing out  yet to be known.

flowers and packing boxes Dale R.jpg

Photo by Dale Rogerson.  Thanks, Dale.


Joe looked at his four daughters eating breakfast at the table.

Five year-old Debbie asked him how old she would be in ten years.

Joe didn’t want to answer it. Stay strong!  No crying!  “Fifteen, sweetie.”

May Ann announced,  “I’m gonna be 18 and drive!  The baby’ll be ten, right Daddy?”

The phone rang.  Joe answered.  His wife’s lawyer on the other end.  “Joe!  Good news!  We got an appeal!  Jill won’t spend ten years in prison.  She’ll be treated at a mental health center and, since she’s pregnant …”

His voice faded.  Joe announced, “Girls, it’s about your mom …”


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You Don’t Bring Me … Pasta?


flowers and packing boxes Dale R.jpgThis picture has been provided by the Dale-ectable Dale Rogerson.  She was pretty popular last week on someone’s blog (what’s so funny about that, I wonder?) and she just popped up again.

Must be those Youtubes are paying off finally.


“So … Dale brought these to you, huh?”

“Yeah. Usually it’s a pasta dish of hers.”

“Food, now flowers.  She likes you, Bill, I can tell.”

“Either way, I’ll send her a nice note.  But, flowers?  I don’t get it.”

Bill promptly typed an e-mail.

“Dearest Dale,

Thanks for the lovely flowers.  Such a sweet gesture, as always.  I was expecting one of your delicious pasta dishes, but these were great.  Russell thought so, too.  We ate them fast!

Yours, WMQ.”


“Nothing from Dale?”

“Only a bag of filberts and a note that says, ‘Nuts to you.’ “


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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.




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