Custody on the West Bay Corral

Lula’s Full Moons 40 Saloon, nestled into the western-most corner Zeta-5’s Rest and Rehab Station, was half full of the usual hands, lounging in leathers and 10-gallon hats, or tipping back shots in titillating bustiers and full ruffled skirts. Or jeans and flip flops. Lula didn’t care, just so long as folks were respectful and they paid their bar bill.

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Love in the ’80’s

(Response to the second Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Rodeo: Humor) 

“Thanks for the ride!”

“There’s a payphone in town. We’ll take you there,” the farmer nodded from under his straw hat as his wife peeked around the edge of her bonnet.

***

So how’d I land here, sharing the back of an Amish wagon with two piglets, a smelly sheep, and a drooling farm dog? Continue reading “Love in the ’80’s”

Cricket and Toad

mars-at-night

She strode down the corridor, Gravboots beating a driving rhythm, her Sikshooter clanging warning bells off her generously curved hip. Ready for transport down to the moon, Arizon’, she suspected the Space Cowboy Coalition was playing them for fools. No profit, but maybe an adventure. She’d arranged her own transport.

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A Tale of Two Schmitties (Part Two): Wild Schmitties & Arizon’

mars-at-night

There once was a settlement on Arizon’,  20 kliks from a ruined moonbase at the far edge of what the Space Cowboy Coalition called the 66th Quadrant. The planet to which Arizon’ had been attached is as long-gone and forgotten as its name. By all that’s natural and what we believe to be the laws of science, the tiny golden moon Arizon’ should have spun off and disappeared as well. But there she sits, spinning slowly, holding her place in the quadrant, wreathed in pearly-gray clouds.

A transformation is occurring…

Continue reading “A Tale of Two Schmitties (Part Two): Wild Schmitties & Arizon’”