The economy sucks! Work is scarce. Do you give up? Not if you are a Hardworking Man! http://theflashfictionoffensive.blogspot.com/2011/09/hardworking-man-by-dana-c-kabel.html
Check out my latest at David Barber's fantastic The Flash Fiction Offensive.
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Thursday, September 15, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
A New Story and a new story
There are two new tales in the column to the right; The Sitter and The Run. I am quite fond of both of these stories, and they were both written when I was visiting in NJ. The Sitter came about after pondering just who in the world I would actually trust to watch my two year old daughter, Rose, if my wife were to start working full time again. The answer is...NO ONE...you'll understand why after you read the story.
The Run came out of thin air. I wanted to write something that had the suggestion of violence without giving all of the graphic details. Sometimes it is best to leave things to the imagination of the reader.
Unfortunately, right after I wrote this one, there was an actual campus shooting on the news...so I had to let it cool for a little bit before putting it out there. Hope you enjoy them both.
The Run came out of thin air. I wanted to write something that had the suggestion of violence without giving all of the graphic details. Sometimes it is best to leave things to the imagination of the reader.
Unfortunately, right after I wrote this one, there was an actual campus shooting on the news...so I had to let it cool for a little bit before putting it out there. Hope you enjoy them both.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
New Story
Please check out my latest story, Mother's Milk in Cindy Rosmus' excellent zine, Yellow Mama, by clicking on the title in the Stories column on the right.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Little Miss Smartypants
My amazing two year old daughter Rose, who at this moment is tossing and turning and crying in her sleep, continues to surprise me on a daily basis. Yesterday she took the paper Burger King crown that she had been wearing for several hours off of her head and placed it on me. I said, "Oh, I'm a princess," in a probably disturbing falsetto. She furled her brow and said, "No Daddy, you're not a princess, you're a king." I said, "So you're the princess?" And she replied, "I'm not a princess, I'm Rose." With a look of compassion for my apparent stupidity. None the less, she IS my princess.
A couple of days earlier, Rose came into the bathroom while I was shaving and told me that she wanted to ask me a question. To be clear about what she had just said, I turned the water off and knelt down and asked her to repeat herself. She said, "I want to ask you a question."
I said, "OK, ask me your question."
Rose proceeded to pull up her little pink bathroom stool and sat down on it. With her favorite dolly tucked under her arm and a very serious look on her face she said, "Your name is Daddy?"
"Is that your question?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Well, you call me Daddy and Bubba and Emily call me Daddy because I am your father. But Mommy calls me Dana because that is my name too. So I have two names, Daddy..and Dana."
"So...you're Daddy?"
"Yes Rose, I'm Daddy."
"Oh, okay."
"Does that answer you question?"
"Yes," she said and got up from her stool and walked out of the room.
Sometimes I'm afraid that this kid is so smart that she'll make the old man here look like a blithering idiot.
A couple of days earlier, Rose came into the bathroom while I was shaving and told me that she wanted to ask me a question. To be clear about what she had just said, I turned the water off and knelt down and asked her to repeat herself. She said, "I want to ask you a question."
I said, "OK, ask me your question."
Rose proceeded to pull up her little pink bathroom stool and sat down on it. With her favorite dolly tucked under her arm and a very serious look on her face she said, "Your name is Daddy?"
"Is that your question?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Well, you call me Daddy and Bubba and Emily call me Daddy because I am your father. But Mommy calls me Dana because that is my name too. So I have two names, Daddy..and Dana."
"So...you're Daddy?"
"Yes Rose, I'm Daddy."
"Oh, okay."
"Does that answer you question?"
"Yes," she said and got up from her stool and walked out of the room.
Sometimes I'm afraid that this kid is so smart that she'll make the old man here look like a blithering idiot.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Amazon review of Top Suspense
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful: 5.0 out of 5 stars A Page Turner of Top Writers, This review is from: Top Suspense: 13 Classic Stories by 12 Masters of the Genre (Kindle Edition) The stories in this collection are fast-paced and raw. It's like listening to your favorite band's garage album. Any of these stories alone would be well worth the price tag, but all of them for less than three bucks is a steal. Max Allan Collins, creator of my favorite hit man, Quarry, leads off the collection with one of his other popular series characters, detective Nathan Heller. Other highlights include The Canary by Dave Zeltserman, author of the critically acclaimed novel The Caretaker of Lorne Field and recently released Blood Crimes. The Canary is a tight crime story with a twist. Ed Gorman delivers a disturbing look at the future of genetic engineering in The Baby Store. And Harry Shannon surprises with a fresh take on the hit man story in A Handful of Dust. The whole collection is rounded up with a collaboration by all of the contributors in The Chase, which is about a bad bitch, a bag of money, and a handful of greedy bad guys. It's a great read and I had fun trying to guess who wrote which parts. There is a link at the end of the story to find out who wrote what. |
Sunday, February 27, 2011
A Scarry Night contest
The Eye of the Beholder
by Dana C. Kabel
Gloria Stevens stepped out of the black stretch limo and onto the red carpet to the cheers of her adoring fans. She was thin. Beautiful. Glamorous. Cameras flashed at her every move.
She smiled and blew a kiss. The fans roared.
"Gloria!"
"Miss Stevens!"
"I love you!"
Her lithe fingers tickled the air in a half hearted wave.
"I LOVE YOU!"
She walked like high born royalty in the procession of elite that had been invited to the award show of the year. Her breathing was as easy as her unfocused gaze. Valium and vodka in the back of the limo helped.
"Gloria...I LOVE YOU!" The voice was ugly. Grating. And louder than all others.
The crowd used to frighten her so badly that she could barely get out of the car. The ugly voice would have sent her running for cover. That was before she found the right combination of drugs and alcohol to give her courage.
"I LOVE YOU!"
Christ, she was going to need another drink just as soon as she got in her seat. And she had better fucking well get the treatment she deserved. Last year she had to remind the help that Gloria Stevens is an Award Winning Actress. She didn't buy her fucking ticket on eBay.
Gloria stepped a little faster to get the hell away from that voice. Suddenly she was confronted by its startling source as he appeared at the front of the crowd. He was hideous beyond belief and the only thing between them was a red velvet rope.
Disfigured was an understatement. He looked like someone had cut his face apart and set the pieces on fire and then sewed them back together again.
Gloria Stevens, Award Winning Actress, vomited in her mouth.
"Get that...fucking thing away from me," she whispered harshly to her bodyguard, who looked like he wanted to slap her.
One thing that was not damaged on the disfigured man was his hearing. He cringed from her words and dropped his head in shame.
Gloria fought back the strong urge to spit on him.
The man turned and pushed through the crowd to get away from the woman that he tried to profess his love to moments ago.
Gloria managed to pace herself with the booze until the best actress award came up. She didn't want to watch herself on the news the next day, stumbling up to the podium and slurring the words of her acceptance speech.
When they opened the envelope and announced the winner, Gloria tried to stand up until her manager, Paul put a firm hand on her arm and pulled her back into her seat.
"Sorry darling. You can't win them all."
"Fucking hell," she said. Reality dawned. "Vivian Hadley?"
"Vivian is seventy-eight and has never won before. You are twenty-eight and already have three gold statues on your mantle. Look at it from the academy's point of view."
"They're fucking imbeciles."
The stops were pulled from her drinking.
After the fifth glass of Stoli she went to the bathroom. The bodyguard followed. She tried her best to walk a straight line until she got past the cameras.
Then she lost her balance trying to open the bathroom door and fell backwards. The bodyguard caught her and steadied her on her feet.
Gloria jerked her arm away.
"Get your filthy hands off from me! Do you know who the fuck I am?"
Having had his fill of Gloria and the rest of Hollywood, he yanked his earpiece out and threw it on the floor.
"Fuck you, bitch," he said.
She tried to slap him and missed. The bodyguard walked away. Gloria spit at his back and went into the bathroom.
When she came out, a new bodyguard was there putting the earpiece in place.
"I hope you're better than the last shit-head." Gloria breathed into her open palm and sniffed it.
The new bodyguard turned around and smiled. The grin did nothing to improve his burned and lacerated face.
Gloria gasped and cringed.
He clamped a scaly hand over her perfect mouth and pushed her back into the bathroom. She tried to scream, but the rough mitt muffled her cries.
His other hand locked the door. Then he took her to the ground.
Gloria's struggles were useless. He fell on top of her, pinning her arms down with his big legs.
"Shhhhhh"
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she struggled.
Gloria was certain that she was going to be raped by the repulsive creature, but she was suddenly faced with a new terror when she saw the glint of the razor blade.
Cold steel. So close that it made her eyes cross. A sharp prick on her cheek made her wince.
He let his paw up just a little so he could hear her beg.
"Please...not my face."
He bent and brushed her soft skin with his scabbed cheek. His tongue flicked in and out of her ear like a serpent's tongue.
"Don't worry about your face. I really don't mind the scars," he whispered as the blade dug deeper into her flesh.
by Dana C. Kabel
Gloria Stevens stepped out of the black stretch limo and onto the red carpet to the cheers of her adoring fans. She was thin. Beautiful. Glamorous. Cameras flashed at her every move.
She smiled and blew a kiss. The fans roared.
"Gloria!"
"Miss Stevens!"
"I love you!"
Her lithe fingers tickled the air in a half hearted wave.
"I LOVE YOU!"
She walked like high born royalty in the procession of elite that had been invited to the award show of the year. Her breathing was as easy as her unfocused gaze. Valium and vodka in the back of the limo helped.
"Gloria...I LOVE YOU!" The voice was ugly. Grating. And louder than all others.
The crowd used to frighten her so badly that she could barely get out of the car. The ugly voice would have sent her running for cover. That was before she found the right combination of drugs and alcohol to give her courage.
"I LOVE YOU!"
Christ, she was going to need another drink just as soon as she got in her seat. And she had better fucking well get the treatment she deserved. Last year she had to remind the help that Gloria Stevens is an Award Winning Actress. She didn't buy her fucking ticket on eBay.
Gloria stepped a little faster to get the hell away from that voice. Suddenly she was confronted by its startling source as he appeared at the front of the crowd. He was hideous beyond belief and the only thing between them was a red velvet rope.
Disfigured was an understatement. He looked like someone had cut his face apart and set the pieces on fire and then sewed them back together again.
Gloria Stevens, Award Winning Actress, vomited in her mouth.
"Get that...fucking thing away from me," she whispered harshly to her bodyguard, who looked like he wanted to slap her.
One thing that was not damaged on the disfigured man was his hearing. He cringed from her words and dropped his head in shame.
Gloria fought back the strong urge to spit on him.
The man turned and pushed through the crowd to get away from the woman that he tried to profess his love to moments ago.
Gloria managed to pace herself with the booze until the best actress award came up. She didn't want to watch herself on the news the next day, stumbling up to the podium and slurring the words of her acceptance speech.
When they opened the envelope and announced the winner, Gloria tried to stand up until her manager, Paul put a firm hand on her arm and pulled her back into her seat.
"Sorry darling. You can't win them all."
"Fucking hell," she said. Reality dawned. "Vivian Hadley?"
"Vivian is seventy-eight and has never won before. You are twenty-eight and already have three gold statues on your mantle. Look at it from the academy's point of view."
"They're fucking imbeciles."
The stops were pulled from her drinking.
After the fifth glass of Stoli she went to the bathroom. The bodyguard followed. She tried her best to walk a straight line until she got past the cameras.
Then she lost her balance trying to open the bathroom door and fell backwards. The bodyguard caught her and steadied her on her feet.
Gloria jerked her arm away.
"Get your filthy hands off from me! Do you know who the fuck I am?"
Having had his fill of Gloria and the rest of Hollywood, he yanked his earpiece out and threw it on the floor.
"Fuck you, bitch," he said.
She tried to slap him and missed. The bodyguard walked away. Gloria spit at his back and went into the bathroom.
When she came out, a new bodyguard was there putting the earpiece in place.
"I hope you're better than the last shit-head." Gloria breathed into her open palm and sniffed it.
The new bodyguard turned around and smiled. The grin did nothing to improve his burned and lacerated face.
Gloria gasped and cringed.
He clamped a scaly hand over her perfect mouth and pushed her back into the bathroom. She tried to scream, but the rough mitt muffled her cries.
His other hand locked the door. Then he took her to the ground.
Gloria's struggles were useless. He fell on top of her, pinning her arms down with his big legs.
"Shhhhhh"
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she struggled.
Gloria was certain that she was going to be raped by the repulsive creature, but she was suddenly faced with a new terror when she saw the glint of the razor blade.
Cold steel. So close that it made her eyes cross. A sharp prick on her cheek made her wince.
He let his paw up just a little so he could hear her beg.
"Please...not my face."
He bent and brushed her soft skin with his scabbed cheek. His tongue flicked in and out of her ear like a serpent's tongue.
"Don't worry about your face. I really don't mind the scars," he whispered as the blade dug deeper into her flesh.
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