Monthly Archives: May 2008

“Corn Hairs”–flash fiction from “Difficult People”

Corn Hairs



          The contempt Josh Clark felt for Sandra Stone was off the human scale. Not only had she rejected him, she then spread the word that he was gay: “Well, Josh,” she was reported to have said, “he’s at least bisexual.”

          Remembering no doubt the jungle fucks they had in her friend’s apartment in the City—those “nooners” she tagged them in honor of her philandering philatelist of a father, his rare stamp store only a brief walk from where she was roundly possessed from the hallway to the kitchen table. The high vaulted pale light of Manhattan winters cast a pall of other days, other lovers, other lives.

          The fact was Sandra Stone was an incurable Daddy’s girl and would depend on his musky five o’clock shadowy beard to arouse her desire for new men…men doomed to failure in comparison.

          Josh let out the rumor that Sandra in climax screamed “Daddy! Daddy! Harder, Daddy…Harder!” and the other associated verbalisms issuing from her little deaths of maddening orgasms.

          Josh knew she’d never escape paternal possession of her unless she left Manhattan and that would be like saying: Go, enter the Great American Desert, never to return. Once in fact she tried to take a train to the West Coast to prove her freedom. After hours of endless farming vistas, by the time Sandra hit Chicago, she’d booked a flight from O’Hare to Kennedy.

          “The nightmares of all those yellow corn hairs wriggling against the train windows! I was quite literally suffocating. Oh Josh by Gosh…I’m so happy to be home in dear dear Mannahatta, darling!” etc., in ever greater flourishes of Big Apple theatrics.

          Josh could take no more. He was living in the shadow of the great man with his tiny, expensive stamps. Still, occasionally he longed for Sandra’s Rubenesque curves, her maddening spasms of lust; but with time, Josh found other lovers and came to thank Big Daddy and the silky corn hairs.


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“The Truth”– fiction from “Difficult People”

Difficult People is an adult storybook of nearly 200 flash fictions that I want to publish here online in serial fashion for free. Maybe later an ebook and hard/soft book edition will come forth. Flash fictions are short short stories written improvisationally, the equivalent of short jazz pieces. Note the “adult” modifier in the title; some of the difficult people in these tales take us into erotic, raw and troubled zones. Read on and enjoy. I welcome reader responses. A hearty welcome to agents, book editors and publishers looking for new material.



Story 13

The Truth
 Shit it ain’t that hard. Doing time. Yeah, I’m a threat to society. I know that. I’ve done some bad stuff. Most of it the cops never knew. That girl that drowned in that heist. The water was too swift. I couldn’t be convicted of negligence. But I was a coward…she was underage and they woulda charged me with statutory, her father tried to shoot me right after her funeral. Came right up to the car, me at the wheel, and put a fuckin’ forty five slug in the door.

Thank God it was an old Lincoln, the kind with the backward doors, suicide doors they called them, bad habit of sucking grandmas and kids out the side, no seat belts, hell nobody wore seat belts. How stupid were we in those days?

But that poor girl’s father, he knew we’d been together that summer down in Texas near Corpus. She was maybe what? Fifteen? Pretty little thing, part Mexican, nice skin and a great set of boobs. She sure liked to fuck and she thought doing crimes with a jerk like me was the hots, already a two time loser with the state reformatory, already stabbed a couple of assholes, been cut too, that time in Piedras Negras outside that fuckin’ cantina…thought I’d bleed to death. Stomach wound, that was a sonofabitch to heal. To think back then I had a crazy sense of right and wrong, still gave a shit.

Can’t remember that girl’s name, part Mexican, something like Romona Alice or Roma Angel. Naw, that’s still not it. Terrible at names but I sure remember her face before the water took her down, she was dog paddling like a whirlwind, beating the water and that face looking at me to save her. I never saved nobody. Now that’s the truth.


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Literature Is Humanity’s Deep Gossip

Jim Stallings is a cultural anthropologist with a deep interest in ritual, myth and narrative. In the 1990s he started writing fiction after learning to ghost write and book doctor novels and scripts. He’s published a number of original works of fiction since 2002 using iUnverse; he sees POD publishing as a way of creating demos just as music groups do; it’s an expression of independence and originality and he hopes helps him reach a larger readership through partnerships with major trade publishers.

Here’s his published works to date: Tales for Commuters & Other Time Travelers (stories); Hunters in the Fog: Diary to Screenplay (my father’s fighter pilot diary from WWII plus a screenplay adaptation); Neon Nirvana: A Romance of the New Age (novel); Devil’s Hopper (literary mystery); The Latest Bloodshed (mystery); & Getting To Know You, thriller; most recently, Dispatches from Tumbleweed (haiku poetry).

See website or buy at bookstores like amazon, or




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