The Portal

500 Words  - written for Facebook Writers Link  Group - Due 7/29/19

Crum and Maggie stepped into the early morning light.  Crum decided it would be hot today.  Maggie, well, she only wondered why the hold up?  “Let’s kick it into gear fercrisakes.  There’s fresh scat to find and roll in.” She pulled on the leash.

Once across Sam Page Road, Crum released Maggie from her bonds and thus any obligation to follow the rules of Man.  Tail wagging frantically, she threw herself into the off trail pucker of Mary’s Woods.

Most mornings Crum was ambivalent at best and often downright hostile to walking of any kind.  His old body woke cranky these days, so his mood depended on his sleep the night before.  Good mood or bad though, he always felt an obligation to be a contrary old fart in all matters public. Being contrary was a life style choice and he reveled in it.

The morning Sun flickered erratically through the sway of the tall trees.  Moments of light settled here and there causing Crum to notice things he had not before.  Today, the light landed on a hole in the old stone wall to his right. He stopped and pondered the wall.  Had that hole in the wall always been there?  Was it really a break or some kind of new mischief? 

Crum stepped off the trail and headed towards the wall.  Maggie ran past him and into the void.   She disappeared the second she passed through.

“Dammit Mag….”, he stopped mid sentence.  Not a sound, not even license tags jingling.

Crum picked up a stick.  Holding it bayonet style, he followed it through the break in the wall.  The stick began to disappear. A moment of disorientation came and now Crum was staring at a big neon sign.   

The sign read, “STOP! Portal is one way only.  Think about this before entering.  This is a no whining, no bitching, and no complaining community.  Life is perfect here.  And BTW – No Dogs!  Questions?  Push the button to your left and speak up.”

Looking around, Crum was pretty sure he was no longer in the pucker of Mary’s Woods.  Every bush and tree was manicured like “Better Homes and Garden”.  The place was immaculate.  In the distance a huge smokestack belched smoke in perfect circles. 

Crum reconsidered the sign and pushed the button.  He pushed it again.  The speaker erupted with an ear drum punishing screech.

“What?  Who’s there?  What do you want?  Calm down and speak up. I can’t hear you.”

Crum winced at the volume and impoliteness of the inquiry.  He spoke.

“Uh, So Life is perfect here huh?  And you don’t take dogs?”

The speaker screeched.  A voice said, “What does the sign say bub?  Can’t you read?”

“Just wanted to verify.  Might like to live in a perfect world.”  

Crum looked at Maggie, scratched her head and continued, “But if I couldn’t bitch about it, what would be the point?  Think I’ll pass.”

Crum leashed Maggie and they walked back through the break in the wall.
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This is my first piece submitted to the Facebook group - The Writers Link Group.  Not sure how I like it, but I did work more than usual on it trying to polish up the 800 plus word turd I started with.

As always, any comments are welcome. 

Rainbow Night at Club Venus

James always looked sharp. His bell-bottoms always wore a sharp crease and his platform shoes never went out in public sporting scuff marks or cigarette butts stuck to their heels.

One day James convinced me to accompany him to Club Venus over at Perring Plaza to pick up women who were amenable to dancing under the big glass ball.

"But”, said James, “we gotta take you shopping for some new threads.  I have seen your wardrobe man and frankly it sucks. Might work for those big Mother Earth, Ms Natural types I see dragging you around, but the women over to the Venus need you to step up your game. They have some class.  They actually shave their armpits and use lipstick.”

He could tell I was a tad miffed.  He turned me to face the big glass doors on the front of the Towson State University library.  “Look at yourself fool.  You’re a schlub, what with all that tye dyed hippie shit cut off jeans flip flop look you are sporting. Really Bro, time to pick up your game.  No sulking, we are hoofing uptown to Hutzler’s. Besides, what are you going to spend that paycheck on anyway, more weed?” 

So we began the hike up York Road.  James strutting in his everyday best and me flip flopping beside him in my everyday worst.  After a short stop at the bank to cash my check, we crossed the street and entered the department store.

Forty five minutes or so later we strode out of Hutzlers looking like twin brothers of different mothers.  I had transformed from an ugly ducking into an imagined swan. Tucked into a pair of baby blue bell bottoms was the classic “Fever” shirt with the big collar and puffy sleeves opened of course to show off the authentic fake gold chain. Toss in those outrageous 3” platform Disco shoes and Jack, I was ready to kill me some ladies.  Least ways, Jack said I was gonna knock em dead.

Thursday night came.  James called me.  Something about being jammed up and he would meet me at Club Venus around eight.   Bummed a ride with some other folks from the dorm and walked in the club.  A banner over the entrance to the ball room claimed in three foot letters, that this night was the first annual “Rainbow Night”. 

Not placing any special importance to the notion of “Rainbow Night”, I walked onto the massive dance floor.  Disco Jacks and Disco Jills were getting their grooves on.  I was maybe halfway across the floor when it dawned on me that I was seeing mostly bucks dancing with bucks and does dancing with does. ……………

“That goddamned James, …..I’ll kill the bastard", I thought. I smiled instead.  James thought he had been safely living in the closet.  He had no clue most of his friends knew he was gay and didn’t care.  …… “But yeah where is that little bastard?”  I finished crossing the dance floor and found the 50 foot bar.  Ordered a shot and a beer, I settled onto a bar stool and watched the light in the loafer folks do their thing.

Into my second shot and second beer, I noticed a woman heading in my general location.  She was taking disco to an ultimate height, fashion wise.  She was wearing a one piece silver hot pants outfit, thigh high silver platform boots, and topped off with an albino afro, two and a half feet across.  Woah, she wanted everyone’s attention.  She would not be ignored.  She smiled at me and………..  Damned, if it wasn’t James, doing his best tranny act and pulling it off to boot.  He looked perfect.  But then James always looked sharp. 

All I could do was grin and head out to meet him on the dance floor for his first coming out dance.  Had a blast that night with him and all the friends he used to keep in his closet.

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 660 words -more or less

First written in Fall of 2018 for a writing class I was in.

Cross Published in the original "Lost in the Bozone"

Last Respects

The Prediction – Flash due Th – 11th of July

100 Words - word prompts - crave, plaster, upwind

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He wanted to relive the joy and pay last respects to the old before he created anything new.  He craved reliving these moments.  Closing his eyes and concentrating, it was almost like the first time.

Unfortunately he approached upwind from his last creation.  Lost in his reverie, he failed to notice the smell.  He was upon the statue before he knew it.  Two men in suits were holding handkerchiefs over their noses and gazing at his statue.

They turned and the tall one said, “This your work?”

He had no answer.

“Well, if it is, more plaster would have helped.”