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The Best of 2014

Anything Evil
by Ian D Smith

The Passion
by J Pape

By Daddy X
Aftermath, 70's Style
Smoking Section
Newbies and the Rules
Playing With Dolls
Regular Places

By Penelope Lake
It's Too Hot for Yard Work

By R.E. Buckley
Flasher Feast
It's Just a Dream
Ship Breakers
Such Things as Soldiers...
Time Capsule

By Rose B. Thorny
The Reason for the Season
The Shampoo Girl

By Steve Isaak
Flasher Feast
Jailhouse Sleepover

By Valentine Bonnaire
Happiness was his warm gun
Year of the Snake

Regular Places

Flash Fiction
by Daddy X


Flash FictionCross the threshold and into the jive, then you’ll encounter two wide doors.


“How come we don’t go on regular dates?” asked Carla.

“What do you mean?”

“How come there’s always these choices with you. Where you take me.”

“I always bring you to the regular places.”

“Regular for you, maybe.”

“Let’s try this door,” I said.  “May find our type here.”

“Whose type?”

“Our type, I think. Look—there’s a woman with a dick in her cunt, another in her ass.”

“Yeah, She’s sucking another guy off. So what. Just like always in these places.”

“Christ—she’s the only woman in the room,” I said. “Six more guys too, and that’s after those three. Let’s go check the other door.”

Once through the alternate portal, the big band blared on stage, the bartenders tended. Tuxedoed waiters served fine meals on platters of gold. Well-dressed couples danced floating across the floor.

“The first one’s more interesting,” said Carla. “Let’s go back.”

© 2013 Daddy X. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

Bio: Daddy X always wanted to be a dirty old man.
He’s survived the 40’s, 50’s, 60’s, 70’s, 80’s, 90’s, and George W. Bush. He maintained good humor throughout Catholic school, a paper route, muskrat trapping, a steel mill, Bucks County, Haight Ashbury, North Beach, Castro Street, the Mendocino Coast, the SF bar business, drug addiction, alcoholism, a stroke, Hep C, cancer, a liver transplant, a year of interferon, a stickup at his ancient art gallery while tied to a desk (not as cool as it sounds), a triple bypass, and George W. Bush. 
Now he’s old, and it’s time to get dirty.
He’s been with Momma X (greatest editor on earth) for fifty years, but she thinks his stuff is too skievy to deal with. They live in northern California with an epileptic 90 lb lop-eared hound (17” wingspan) and two cats. They raise little green girls to medicinal maturity each and every year.


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