IMAGOES
Flash Fiction / July 17, 2019

I have a poem published here. Check it out. You’ll love it.   “Imagoes, the long awaited queer anthology complied and edited by Jamal Jones and published by Love, Pain & Poetry Publishing. Writers, performers and multi disciplined artists come together for this expression of space and a new era the journey of being queer. Inspired by Wanda Coleman Jamal creates his first anthology of many. Pre-Order your copy today.” IMAGOES

Dominic’s Guide to Text Codes
Coming Soon , Flash Fiction / May 12, 2019

Hi, I’m Dominic Saborido, Jr., I’m 12 years old and I wrote this book because a lot of people don’t have enough time to text. Or maybe I made this because some adults don’t understand what people say when they text HMU, IDK, WTEVR, etc.. This guide is for any type of messages. P.S. Please don’t text and drive. The book goes on sale on July 1, 2019 You can now purchase your Autographed copy now.

My Father Cringes When He Sees Kyle Hold My Hand
Flash Fiction / October 8, 2017

Barefoot I stand over the edge of the pool. Water swells beneath waiting for my soul. I look ahead. My father cringes when he sees Kyle hold my hand. What is my father doing here? He places his hands in a circle around his mouth and screams. I’m sure he’s calling my name. “Jake.” I can’t hear him through the cacophony of the crowd. He runs towards me. He looks angry. I’m certain that if there were a bat around, my father would use Kyle’s head as a baseball and hit a home run. Kyles squeezes my hand in reassurance. “It’s okay. We can do this.” Really? He doesn’t know my father. I’m a dead man. I won’t be old enough to go to the Saloon and have a drink with the man I love. “I love you. No matter what happens, I’ll always love you, Kyle.” Read the rest at 

30 Days of Passion
Flash Fiction / May 7, 2016

I light my fifth cigarette of the morning and smoke into the cool February air.  Taking a sip of my coffee I greet the apartment worker below my balcony as he picks up cigarette butts. “Sorry about that. I told him not to.” I wink at the cute Mexican guy. “You’re new?” “Si. Me llamo Jose. Gusto en conocerle.” He waves and smiles back at me. I can’t help but to stare at his toned body. Dark hair cut short gave him a gangster look, just like my Jose. “Nice to meet you too.” I wonder how he is in bed. Would he know how to make me scream in ecstasy? Enough of that, am I really that lonely and desperate? He has the same build, same crooked smile. Except that my Jose has eyes that invite you to the dark side and keep you there. Where are you Jose? I just got you and now you’re gone. Read the rest at 

Radiology
Flash Fiction / March 18, 2016

Franklin sits on the table in the examination room. “I’m Dr. Rontgen.” Dr. Rontgen stood up and fixed his stethoscope on Franklin to hear his heart beat. “What seems to be the problem?” “I think I’m having a heart attack.” “What makes you say that?” “My chest hurts, my arm goes numb, I can’t breathe and I can’t move. I almost had a car accident driving here.” Read the rest at 

Fortnight on a Flower Bed
Flash Fiction / May 16, 2015

I ran through the garden searching for my man, me Jose. Who was taken from me without someone asking me first if I would agree to his absence? I had just found him among the cacti, weeds, and the brown grass of the dessert. And I ran fast towards him. A voice yelled “Stop!” I froze on my steps and fell to the grass. Hyacinth raised her leaves as I got up to shake myself, “Young man, watch your step in the flower bed,” she said in her royal demeanor. “What’s the rush? Why are you so haste?” Her round face grinned at me as if knowing my destiny, my destination, my loss, my hunger, me Jose. Read more at

Love Hour
Flash Fiction / May 5, 2013

I look out the window into the pool. The slight breeze swings the tree branches. The darkness cut by lights from the pool gave the yard an eerie glow. My body tired from a long week of work. The stresses of work are getting too much for me to handle. The wife and kids problems were too much to bear anymore. I need a break. I need a vacation and do not have the time or money. I need some me time. The soft melody of jazz plays in the background in a soft beat. The scent of juniper in the air relaxes me. I feel my fatigue slowly ebb away. Read the rest at 

The Knock
Flash Fiction / February 16, 2013

Finally. I’m home. It’s been a long day and all I want is to get some rest. Order some Chinese food, I don’t feel like eating Mexican leftovers. Drink some Merlot to help me relax. Watch a rented movie. I hear a knock on the door. Man! Let me get my coat off and my shoes before you knock on my door. I open the door to two men in black slacks with white shirts and black ties. The young men on the left, is of Asian descent, a little on the hefty size. His hair short cropped and thick black rimmed glasses over his round face. Still has the innocent look. He’s holding a thick bible with his hands on his chest. The other man is tall, slim, with short blond hair. His deep, blue eyes piercing mine. His smiling face flushed with fear and embarrassment. “We have the wrong address,” he blurts out. He turns his body hiding his face. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb you.” He quickly leaves his partner’s side, practically jumps down the steps to the first floor of my two-story building. Read the rest at 

My Cowboy
Flash Fiction / November 18, 2012

A cowboy walks before me. Is that Jake? He looks like Jake. What kind of car is he driving? The same walk. Why do cowboys wear skin-tight jeans? His cowboy shirt lose not tight and stretched on his toned frame. He used to favor dark colors, now wearing a light blue shirt. His short, blond hair? Should it be gray by now? It seems like the last twenty years have not changed him. What kind of woman would put up with him? Does he beat her up, or does he respect her because she is a woman? I am not as thin as I used to be, I have gray hair and my belly sticks out. I have matured and grown old. I did not commit to anyone. How many relationships have I sabotaged when things were getting serious?   Read the rest at

The Regret
Flash Fiction / April 4, 2012

Aroon sat up from the love nest of soft leaves. “Dugan, do you feel any regret over the changes we made?” He covered his shoulders with his hands, feeling a cold shiver shoot across his naked back. “I do feel regret.” Dugan closed the distance to warm Aroon with his own body. “We should have known better than to make these changes.” Read the rest at

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