SHORT FICTION by James Merritt

SHORT FICTION by James Merritt

[James Merritt is a master of short fiction.  He is especially talented at weaving a story from almost any subject–from horror to humor.  Following are four stories we think you’ll enjoy–or, at least get a “kick” out of!]


With each balloon that popped, his future died a little more. His dreams of hearing, changing, and expressing the world through music ending with each dart thrown. With the air escaping a million unknown futures falling behind him. Once he was a young child whose mother daily forced him to practice singing, violin, and piano.

When he turned twelve, he found his talents multiplying daily. On the same day his mother discovered heroin.

By fourteen, he simply had to escape the destruction of what was left of his home. He ran off to a carnival and worked, thinking he would only stay until he was old enough to escape as an adult. Working the balloon pop station for four years destroyed his hearing–ending what was the great hope of humanity. He had had the potential to put all other musicians past and present to shame. Potential to save humanity from war through the purest beauty in the universe. Now, humanity would be lost–the world’s destruction due to a balloon pop.



The fly found its soulmate from its previous life and buzzed around his head. Landing on the human, he shared his coffee, lightly caressed his hand.

The fly was driving the man nuts! It was buzzing around his head, landing on his coffee cup, and crawling up and down his arm.

The man picked up the bright green tool of death and swatted the fly, not quite killing it with the first blow–realizing only after the first attack of his loves true form. So, he hit it again and again, destroying his love in hopes of it coming back in a more pleasant form. Perhaps they could be together in another life.

Huzzah! One less fly in the world.



Well below the deepest hidden basement of the forgotten Smithsonian lies a cavern filled with artifacts from distant galaxies–hidden there by those who do not want mankind to know of alien life.

In the darkest corner of the dusty cavern, lit by a single bulb, on a stand sits a pair of beautifully engraved leather shoes. Swirling over the old skin are flowers carved, mixed with maps of the infinite universe. These shoes outshine the most beautiful ever created.

The shoes found their way here after the death of their creator. The majestic shoes were created by an alien named Herschel. Herschel came from a distant world of creatures that look very much like me and you. A major difference is, in his world, each individual spends their life on a singular project–perfecting it to mastery. Herschel had traveled the stars in search of his medium–to create his life’s majesty. He crash landed on a roof in New York City and spent his short lifetime in the same building; although long for his species of five earth years. During this time he only befriended one person–an old Jewish leather worker named Takhash. Takhash taught Herschel his skill.

At the end of Herschel’s life, he presented the shoes to Takhash who discovered, unlike humans, Herschel and his people had hooves instead of feet. As Herschel had only seen people with shoes on, he assumed they were just a strange earth-style. Due to this, his one-of- a-kind shoes insides were made for a hoof. 

The next day, Takhash found Herschel dead outside his door. When he called the police, men in black came and took the body and shoes away. After being studied, the shoes were hidden away from humanity. The glorious work of Hershel’s existence were never against seen by the living, but by spiders and dust mites. When the earth’s end came in the final moments, the spirits of the earth sought out the most beautiful sights. The earth itself paused its shakes and volcanoes for a moment in awe of a pair of beautiful, intricately-designed shoes.



He woke screaming from his nightmare, and realizing it was only a dream, got out of bed. He went to his kitchen–being extra quiet so the monsters did not hear him. The giant flying monster killed his mom, and his father was shot and killed, leaving him alone in the high rise with all of his noisy neighbors. He grabbed a handful of nuts and found a comfortable seat while he chewed his morning dinner.

All of a sudden his house shook, and he knew it was the end when he heard timber as the terrorist monsters toppled the high rise, not even giving warning to evacuate. As he tumbled and fell to the ground, the smash of his home hitting the ground was deafening. Hobbling outside on his broken leg he looked up at the monsters just in time to see the forest descend on the beasts.

The flying monsters attacked their eyes while spiders bit any uncovered skin. He crawled up a leg of the thing and bit it where its legs came together. The thing let out a piercing scream as a bear came in and clawed out its throat. When other forests lost their spirit protectors they became fearful of the two-legged monsters. Not this forest, for the creatures in it were trained to kill. When left alone, they only killed each other for meat, but when a man-beast entered they never left alive. The entire crew of monsters were dead within minutes, their bodies devoured within two days and their metal buried with berry bushes planted on top.

Next time you need a tree, ask its inhabitants first. Make sure to give thirty days notice of eviction; otherwise, your nuts may become chips!

[James Merritt lives in Maryland. He is a teacher, entrepreneur, story-teller and writer. We are pleased to have published several of James’s stories in Columnist with a View, so you can search the Archives for other short-shorts. He has published a small collection which is available on]





This explains why friends forward jokes. I’ve never thought of it this way before.

A man and his dog were walking along a road. The man was enjoying the scenery, when it suddenly occurred to him that he was dead. He remembered dying and that the dog walking beside him had been dead for years.

He wondered where the road was leading them. After a while, they came to a high, white stone wall along one side of the road. It looked like fine marble. At the top of a long hill, it was broken by a tall arch that glowed in the sunlight. When he was standing before it, he saw a magnificent gate in the arch that looked like mother-of-pearl and the street that led to the gate looked like pure gold. He and the dog walked toward the gate, and as he got closer, he saw a man at a desk to one side. When he was close enough, he called out, “Excuse me, where are we?”  “This is Heaven, sir,” the man answered. “Wow! Would you happen to have some water?” the man asked. “Of course, sir. Come right in, and I’ll have some ice water brought right up.”

The man gestured, and the gate began to open.

“Can my friend,” gesturing toward his dog, “come in, too?” the traveler asked. “I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t accept pets.” The man thought a moment and then turned back toward the road and continued the way he had been going with his dog. After another long walk, and at the top of another long hill, he came to a dirt road leading through a farm gate that looked as if it had never been closed.  There was no fence. As he approached the gate, he saw a man inside, leaning against a tree and reading a book. “Excuse me!” he called to the man, “do you have any water?” “Yeah, sure, there’s a pump over there, come on in.” “How about my friend here?” the traveler gestured to the dog. “There should be a bowl by the pump,” said the man.

They went through the gate, and sure enough, there was an old-fashioned hand pump with a bowl beside it. The traveler filled the water bowl and took a long  drink himself, then he gave some to the dog. When they were full, he and the dog walked back toward the man who was standing by the tree. “What do you call this place?” the traveler asked.  “This is Heaven,” he answered. “Well, that’s confusing,” the traveler said. “The man down the road said that was Heaven, too.'”

“Oh, you mean the place with the gold street and pearly gates? Nope. That’s Hell.”

“Doesn’t it make you mad for them to use your name like that?” “No, we’re just happy that they screen out the folks who would leave their best friends behind.”

So-o-o-o. Now you see, sometimes, we wonder why friends keep forwarding stuff to us without writing a word. Maybe this will explain it. When you are very busy, but still want to keep in touch, guess what you do?  You forward email’s! When you have nothing to say, but still want to keep contact, you forward jokes! When you have something to say, but don’t know what, and don’t know how . . . . you forward stuff!

A ‘forward’ lets you know that . .

. . . You are still remembered,

. . . You are still important,

. . . You are still loved,

. . . You are still cared for. So, next time if you get a ‘forward’, don’t think that you’ve been sent just another forwarded joke, but that you’ve been thought of today and your friend on the other end of your computer wanted to send you a smile. You are welcome at my water bowl anytime !! So here’s to keeping in touch . . .

Even if it means only forwarding on an email!

[This brief story came to me in an e-mail from a dear friend.  It is my pleasure to share it here with readers.  There’s a lot of truth in this story!]







I fear them for they look different,

I fear them so they must die,

I fear them for they believe different

I fear them so they must die

I fear them because I am poor

I fear them so they must die

I fear them for they have different sex

I fear them so they must die

I fear them for I cannot accept myself

I fear them so they must die

I fear them because I am told to

I fear them so they must die

I fear them because I do not understand

I fear them so they must die

I fear them for lack of education

I fear them so they must die

I fear them because I was raised to

I fear them so they must die

I fear fear

I fear them so they must die!



Last year we purchased an inflatable hot tub. Oh boy! It was an immense pleasure to once again ease into the hot water and feel it work on my aches and pains. In West Virginia we built a screened room around a 6-person hot tub and it became a nightly routine for us to sit and chat about the day and coming things to do and other odds and ends. Some days we were just silent. What a soothing part of the bedtime routine.

The inflatable was a great option since we are renting here and it will be easier to move if and when we do. However, it does not have the power to keep the temperature as constant as the conventional hot tub. It  has a four degree variance with 104 at the top end. 104  is a bit hotter than I like…but easing in slowly gets the body acclimated and then the warmth goes deeply into the joints. Ahhh. But 10 minutes is about all I can take at that heat.

On the other end, 100 is almost too chilly. Easy in but it just does seem to help the aches as well and we end up staying about 10 minutes because it is not warm enough, particularly now in winter.comfortzone

I like 103. A bit slow to get in but not as slowly as 104 and pretty equivalent deep comfort. Ahhhhh and I can relax for 15-20 minutes. Sweet comfort zone for me. 

Last night I got the idea that this might be an understandable metaphor about how the rise in sea water temperature is causing all kinds of issues with the climate. Graham, being a scientist, felt it was too superficial a presentation. He wanted me to delve into the facts.  I think the climate change deniers don’t consider the facts and never will consider the facts. But they might consider the FEELINGS.

Perhaps you don’t have a hot tub and know your ideal temperature but most people know how they feel with the outdoor temperature. 70 degrees is a point of comfort for many except people in Florida who think it is still cool. People in the UK go to the beach at 65 but I feel better about swimming when the air temp is closer to 80.hottub

We each have a point where it feels right. Above or below that temperature, our tolerance is tested. So, too, are all the life systems affected by the rise in sea water temperature.  I’ll leave it there. Just please think about it.  If that premise is one you can accept, you might be willing to look a bit deeper into the issue. Please be willing to consider scientific facts and join the millions of people who are trying to make small changes in their life that can help our planet sustain us.

[Beth Rankin is one of our favorite people.  Beth lives in McMinnville, Oregon along with her husband, Graham. She is a housewife, mother, entrepreneur, adventurer and writer. She is gracious to allow us to re-print many of the articles she publishes in her blog.  Please visit Beth in person at her blogsite at and subscribe to get her articles fresh and first-hand.]

MY CREED by David C. Williams

MY CREED by David C. Williams

If there is a God - there is only One.

Until we know otherwise we must assume

God created space, time, matter and life.

God has never been seen or heard.

God wrote no books.

Prophets speak of God but not for God.

God has no chosen peoples, places, or times.

God exists in man’s mind.



Man is obligated to work

He is free to think without constraint.

He may explore the earth, the sky, the universe,



And mature through study and observation.

Questions now unanswerable

May someday be solved!

Truth does not fear questions.

Man is both good and bad.

His purpose is to love and be loved,

To grow in wisdom,

Overcome evil, promote peace, seek beauty,



And live life to the fullest!

THE PROPHET by David C. Williams

THE PROPHET by David C. Williams


            As the old man was walking along the railroad track one evening he heard noises coming from a stand of trees. Approaching the area he found a group of men around a large tree felled by storm. The tree had fallen across a well-worn path into the woods. Women and children were watching the men chop through the heavy trunk of the tree.

            The old man joined them and when it came his turn with the ax he flailed away mightily but could not hit in the same place twice. He only dented the trunk; no chips flew. He kept thinking he would improve, but he did not. As his aim improved his arms began to tire; he made little progress.

            Next in line behind him was a large Negro who took the ax and dislodged thick chips where the old man only scored the trunk. When his turn came once again, he took up the ax but only to occupy time while the other men rested. The sun had gone down when the job was finally finished. The women and children had gone home to prepare supper.lumberjack-199693_1280 (1)

            The men gathered up their hats, coats and tools and silently walked away towards the houses. Each half of the tree had been rolled aside, clearing the path into the woods. The old man sat exhausted on one end of the tree for the next hour. He did not know exactly where he was or which way to go. When he arose he was dizzy and lightheaded. He slowly got up and walked down the trail towards the lake.

            Suddenly, brilliant memories flashed through his mind one after the other. They were bright, vivid memories of events…events that had happened to him in his childhood years ago. They were all racing through his mind in rapid succession. They were not connected events, but distinct, absolutely clear, vivid memories; pictures of past events that had taken place years ago. There might have been a dozen memories, all distinct and all different. Perhaps this spell lasted only 10 or 15 seconds.postcard-1242616_1280books-1099672_1280 (1) When the memories passed his mind was clear, but he could not remember a single one! He knew he had experienced these events and that they were true to his life, but he could not recall a single picture. He decided he had experienced a replay of pictures of past experiences of his life. Due to the physical exertion, something in his mind had short-circuited and these ancient memories were retrieved and flashed serially through his mind. They then completely departed; they were now totally gone. The old man did not know where he was–either in time or space.

            He walked slowly down the path toward the lake, sat down on a rock and watched the stars come out. He might have dozed. When he opened his eyes, it was springtime, and he was sitting in tall grass with flowers, bees, birds and greening trees. Children were playing. He dozed. When he awoke again it was winter.winter-196339_1280 Snow was knee-deep; trees were bare, icicles hanging from stark black branches. The sky was gray and featureless. It was quiet, everything was motionless. When he looked down from the sky he saw a lonely, snow-covered Prophet solemnly sitting opposite him on the log.

            The old man nodded to him and asked, “Where are we?

            “I don’t know.”

            “How long have we been here?”

            “I don’t know.”

            “Why are we here?”

            “We must be somewhere; so we are here. Perhaps we’ve been here forever. My dog has been here always.”

            “What is it all about?”

            “I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

            “I am trying to find the secret of life. I thought you might know.”

man-103041_1280            “I know nothing. I am seeking just like you. Sometimes I think I have found the answer, but then it slips away, like a goldfish, from my hand. It is gone and my hand is empty.” The prophet arose, brushed the snow from his shoulders, and then sat down again.

            “When did it all begin?”

            “It began when fishes crawled up from the sea onto the sandy shore, and developed legs. They stood up and walked into the forest. They lived in the trees and were afraid. One day they came down, walked on the ground. Some planted corn; some lived in caves and under hedges. They were all afraid–afraid of lightning, winds, storms and fire.”

            “How did they overcome their fear?”

            “Wise men amongst them invented God’s who were the creatures made from the Bones of their Fears and the Flesh of their Ignorance. These gods could be called upon to protect them from their fears.”lightening-1185742_1280

            “That doesn’t make any sense!”

            “No, it does not.”

            “What happened to these gods?”

            “They were explained away. They were never really there.”

            “What took their place?”

            “Other gods…gods that have not yet been explained away.

            “What good are they?”

            “They are not good for anything, but are essential to man’s peace of mind because of his fears. Man loves to listen to stories…stories of gods, gods greater than himself. Gods who can answer all of his questions.”

            “Are there such a gods?”chile-1361912_1280


            “Have these gods ever answered any questions”

            “No! Man has answered some of his own questions but not many.”

            “How many of these gods are there?”shiva-the-hindu-god-1165592_1280

            “Many. The first one who did not arise from natural events such as lightning, thunder and fire was a tribal God. This God had a chosen group of people. His name was Jehovah. He told them to kill other tribes and take their land. He was a harsh, vengeful God. He saved Noah and the animals on the ark, but drowned everyone else on earth. He is still up there for his people. They are the Jews.     

            “From these stories a later God was developed by Prophet Jesus. He said he had a father named God in heaven, with a spirit god in between called the Holy Ghost. This group was like an egg with two yolks. God was one, Jesus was the other and the Holy Ghost was the transparent part of the egg.

            “Sometime later another God named Allah was invented. He recognized the other gods but said he was superior to them. The gods are not all bad, but there are books written about them which are thought to be sacred. They inspire men to fight amongst themselves to prove whose god is the greatest.”

            “Perhaps there should just be one god and not any books!” The Prophet’s dog got up and walked through the snow down towards the lake. The Prophet slowly got up, brushed the snow off his shoulders, and followed the dog.

            The old man rolled over on his back, looked up at the sky and went to sleep.fairy-tale-1081151_1280