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once upon a time...

Alien Ride Along

Alien Ride Along

You don’t need to believe in urban legends or myths, to make them true. Take the multiple UFO sightings in New Mexico. You’ve heard about them, maybe even seen them for yourself—the glowing disks or triangles of light.
 
Speculations of alien spies have been around for decades. Movies depict willowy, big-eyed beings stranded on this earth for one reason, or something completely different, a slimy, toothy, lizard-like being who wants nothing more than to take over earth and then blow it all into space dust. It’s so dramatic, really, the speculations.
 
The truth is, we’re just travelers. Most of us come here for family vacations. We take on any shape that strikes our fancy and do a little sightseeing. Take this beauty here. My wife saw this car in a city street and that was that. She slid into red and chrome and tan leather seats. She smiled a little brighter, a little wider than the original, but it looked good on her. She spent months on the road with a photographer who was documenting the decline of Route 66. The things she saw—she still talks about how our trip to earth was her favorite ever. Maybe one day we’ll come back, I tell her. One day.

 
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Postcard Stories Podcast – An Author Reading.

 
 

 

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Postcard-sized flash fiction about the things we think we know about others, life, death, and everything in between. And it all starts with an image...

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White barn with stormy background

Hinterland is Real

They say seeing is believing. I didn’t know what that meant until that night. I was coming home late, later than I should, and I knew I was going to catch heck. Momma didn’t even pretend to be patient when me or my sister wasn’t home in time for dinner.

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Postcard-sized flash fiction about the things we think we know about others, life, death, and everything in between. And it all starts with an image...

Deadly Mist

The mist crept closer, slithering across the boot prints she left behind on the soft, moist ground. She urged her legs to go faster over the uneven path. A leafless tree grabbed at the flying strands of her long silver hair as she ran past. They hung like shiny tinsel

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Postcard-sized flash fiction about the things we think we know about others, life, death, and everything in between. And it all starts with an image...

Path of the Dead

The path of a ghost is etched into the earth, hammered and chiseled by heeled boots, flat leather soles, and the barest of feet. I follow the prints up and over the rise. There is a man standing by the car, smartly dressed in black pants, an unblemished white shirt,

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