Legends Don’t Die, They Just Fade Away

Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding

This is Caleb Carlyle Curtis reporting live Sunday, February 17, 2019 via web-cam for my blog, Genuine Confessions of a Myth-Taken Freak. I tracked him down here deep in the Wisconsin woods after long arduous months of searching involving the follow-up of false leads, rumors, and word of mouth. Today I shall share with you the truth! I am always awed and amazed at the reality behind our legends. This time was no different. It’s true what they say about people shrinking as they get older, Paul Bunyan is living proof, no longer a robust giant eight feet tall, he has dwindled to a grey-haired mere six-and-a-half feet, he can still swing a mean axe although arthritis is starting to take its toll. He is currently earning a living creating custom-designed log houses. He proudly escorted me around his latest masterpiece. When asked about Babe, Paul admits shame-faced, that when times were hard during the Depression he traveled down South. People down there were starving and as a result, Babe went back up to the Great Man in the sky; he stated that the great Blue Ox made a wonderful barbecue that fed half the state of Texas.


Sunday Photo Fiction – February 17, 2019




Photo Credit: C.E. Ayr

Rhaelke Drifficent, Dragon-Mage, blinked her eyes at her strange surroundings; everything was boxy and square, not a fluid curve in sight. Flora colors were wrong, bilious greens in place of gay oranges. The sky! It was blue not red. Her eyes watered, it was too bright, no comforting concealment from numerous smoking vents. Her weight crushed down on her lungs, she struggled to inhale; the air was thin, lacking in sulfur. Her guts roiled and churned, gurgling ominously. She could feel her Power fading. Saliva formed in her mouth, tasting of bile, frantically she gulped it down. Carefully she growled out the words for the anti-nausea charm, nothing happened. She tried again, concentrating on pronouncing each syllable exactly. She experienced a momentary relief and then the charm just fizzled. She sought the energy-web of this world. Stunned she found that this world was completely devoid of Magick! Her anxiety rose as she realized that she was quickly losing control of her flame. A loud ‘burppp’ racked her frame. An embarrassingly small puff of flame trickled from her jaws. The landscape wavered, moments later she was safely back home. She swore a solemn oath, “Never again shall I drink queruill-berry juice!”


Sunday Photo Fiction: February 3, 2019


An Enigma of Sphinxes


“Order, Order! I call this Enigma to order!” Khufu’s clenched claws rapped smartly against the granite dais.

“We have got to do something about those infernal devices that the humans are carrying. I have had three good meals get away from me yesterday alone.” Nur-Adad raged.

“He is right.” Sin-Eribam admitted. “I used the newest riddle I know, ‘What is red and green and goes round and round?’ Within mere seconds, the human had the answer, ‘A frog in a Cuisinart.’ I am starving!” His empty stomach rumbled angrily in proof.

“I have been reduced to using the riddle of the Greek Kallikantzaros, ‘Feathers or lead?’ Ramses confessed  shame-faced hanging his head, but the human was a physicist and knew the answer, ‘Neither, they both fall at the same rate.’ So I had to let him go.” He sighed regretfully.

“We are all hungry.” Khufu said. A sullen rumble of agreement sounded from the grouped Sphinxes. “I have consulted with our most technologically advanced member. He has the answer, Xerxes?”

Xerxes strode forward regally and stood next to Khufu at the dais. “After much research and thought, I have found the solution. There is a device the humans have called a ‘cell jammer or scrambler’, the installation of this item will prevent the humans from using their Androids, iPads, iPhones and other devices to search for the answers to our riddles and we may all fed again.”

“All of those in favor of doing what Xerxes suggests please signify your agreement.” A chorus of growling screams of joy and the beating of massive wings thundered through the crowded arena. “Passed by popular acclaim!” Khufu shouted. “I hereby declare this Enigma closed!”

A Writing Prompt a Day: Write a piece about a Sphinx’s riddle.


Unremarkable Man


Jack Jones possessed the power of anonymity. He patrolled the city in his charcoal-grey business suit attracting no attention; everything about him; height, build, face, hair and eye coloring were all average. He had a single flaw; he couldn’t carry a tune in a ten-gallon pail, something he was currently proving as he casually strolled along tunelessly yodeling the piece he had just written at the top of his lungs.

   “I can go unnoticed in any crowd
   Except of course, when I sing aloud!
   I am Unremarkable Man
   Moreover I have just began!
   I may fall down, but I get up again
   If you are evil then I am your bane!
   I may not have a body made of iron or steel
   Nevertheless, my strong fists you will feel!
   I do not soar through the sky
    For I am completely unable to fly!
    I may be bruised and I may bleed
   However, defeat I will never concede!
   I will accept whatever fate may throw
   To bring down any wicked foe!
   I am far from being a zero
   I am a superhero, a s-u-p-e-r -h-e-r-o—!”

He turned the corner and crossed the street. Totally focused on his iPhone, he never noticed the oncoming cab until it struck him, tossing him bloody and broken into the gutter. The cabbie never even noticed.


A Writing Prompt a Day: write a theme song for your protagonist.


Project Rain God



It was a mote of brightness in the vast ocean of the universe, a chunk of frozen ice tumbling erratically, floating lazily in the dark depths of space. A series of tiny, firefly lights rhythmically winked briefly into existence on its flanks and rear. It slowed and stilled. Turning like a compass needle pointing north, it oriented itself on its target. A bright blossom of flame bloomed, ponderously the asteroid gathered speed, until it was streaking unnoticed towards its objective, a red marble floating closer to the distant sun and a date with destiny. “Surupa launch successful.” Captain Freya Wright announced from the bridge of The Joint Nations Ship Inception.

Long tedious months passed as Surupa sped on its way, the Inception pacing its gigantic charge. Finally the destination shown. First as a faint dot, slowly swelling with pregnant promise, then a huge globe dominating the Inception’s viewer.

“Target profile confirmed. Project Rain God is go.” Commander Joshua Lewis commed from the Forward Observation Platform.

“Acknowledged, Mission Control. Detonating.” Captain Freya Wright replied.

The blast fragmented the asteroid expanding it like the petals of a giant flower. Meteorites showered down, penetrating the thin atmosphere. Friction heated them and they began to dissolve. Dirty white clouds formed. Lightening flashed, thundered rolled, and precipitation began.

“Delivery confirmed.”

“Roger Inception, looking good from Phobos.”

For the first time in aeons, it rained on Mars.

A Writing Prompt a Day: Write a piece about a meteor shower.


The Heist



The security was pitiful, a single scanty trip wire rigged to flashing colored lights. The team breached it easily enough and obtained the gleaming prize. No sooner did they have it in-hand than the enemy pounced.

“Too hot handing off. Claire, you’re it!” The glittering bauble traced a perfect arc through the air. He smashed to the floor under the weight of the bodies piled on top of him. “Oof!” Bernard squawked beneath them.

A delicate pair of hands deftly snagged it. “Congested, sliding. Elias, you’re it!” She screeched, crouched, and threw, the twinkling trinket skidded gracefully among dancing shoes. A small fist grabbed her long hair and jerked her off her feet. “Ouch!” She squealed.

“Received, running.” He bent his head and plowed through the scrambling security forces, sparkling gaud clutched protectively to his chest. “Passing, Harvey, you’re it!” The Taser dart struck his shirt; he dropped twitching stunned by the pulsating current. “Ahhhh!” He screamed clutching his chest in agony.

“Delivered, exiting” He sidled out the living room door and shouted in triumph, the scintillating trophy extended victoriously high over his head. “We won! We won!” He shrilled dancing with glee.

“No fair!” Flynn whined.

“Cheaters!” Darcy shrieked angrily.

“That’s enough! Don’t any of you dare break my snow globe!” The soprano voice thundered.

“Yes mother, yes Aunt Agnes.” The cousins all chorused. Obediently they replaced the snow globe on the light-strung mantle. The children huddled in a circle under the wilting Christmas tree. “I’m tired of guards and robbers.” Little Gladys said. “Let’s play something else.”


A Writing Prompt a Day: write a piece about a tag-team heist.




The J”Blorat colonists had existed peacefully on the planet for millennia; they occupied a landscape that the dominant sapients had absolutely no interest in and consumed only sunlight. They had the perfect camouflage after all, who would suspect prickly cacti of being alien invaders? The J’Blorat waited patiently knowing that their day would come and they would rule this world. The enemy was already doing their work for them. The Global Warming Plan was coming along quite nicely. The Humans were doomed.


Sunday Photo Fiction: December 30, 2018


P.S. Today is National Science Fiction Day! Enjoy!