Flash: Monsters in the Closet

Photo by ajiss on Unsplash

“Hey, Mom,” Kiara sat still in her seat while her mother separated her wet hair. She loved hair washing day, the only time she got her mother to herself. Her father took her three brothers and buzzed their curls down to scalp then fired up the grill to give her mother and her the two hours needed to redo their braids for the next six weeks. Sometimes they even had time to do nails.

“What is it, Little Bit?” Her mom shifted a bank of hair to the front of Kiara’s face now she was old enough to practice on her own with the nearly empty jar of butter cream they saved for that purpose.

“Why don’t monsters come out of our closets at night?”

Fingers stilled a second before starting to gently finger comb the loose hairs out between spritzes of stay-in conditioner. “Why would they come out?”

“Well, Timmy and Karen at school say they have their parents check their closets for monsters every night. Timmy’s dad opens the closet and shines a flashlight under the bed to keep him safe and Karen’s parents spritz monster spray in her room. Lucy, Chuck, and Mandy all say that they have had their parents do something like that too, but not every night. Why isn’t it a problem for us?”

“Ah, well, first off, we train our monsters much better.” Her mother moved to a different section of hair and started the water, conditioner, and fingercomb routine again. “If you need to spritz your monsters nightly, you aren’t doing a good job taking care of them.”

“Oh, should I teach them how to take better care of their monsters?” Kiara asked. “I take really good care of Old Baba.”

“I know. I saw you grab the handful of fresh graveyard soil when we visited grandmother last week.” Her mother kissed the top of her head in approval. “But whities don’t take well to people that look like us correcting them.”

“That’s just silly,” Kiara declared. Taking care of pets and creatures was an important job. She only got to help with Old Baba when she turned five. Knowing how to do it right was super, super important.

“No, no. Not all rules make sense, but you do need to follow them.” Her mother corrected her without worrying about whether Kaira cared about the correction because mothers could do that with their children.

Kiara worked her lock of hair but didn’t nod agreement because her mother was still pulling her hair gently. “Like wearing shoes to school and in restaurants.”

“Well, the school shoes are so you don’t forget to take shoes for the cafeteria. Unless you are really careful, and not everyone is, shoes should be worn where food is being made and served. And always worn around fire and cutting knives. We can get away with it at home for stirring and shucking and other kitchen and cooking things because your dad and I are very careful and we are teaching you the same, but not everyone is.”

“So where there is a lot of people, community rules apply.”

“Exactly.” Her mother kissed her head again and switched to the last section needing moisturizing. “And safety rules always apply. You’ve gotten really good at keeping on your shoes when we tell you they have to stay on.”

“Could I keep Old Baba in the closet or under the bed like Timmy and Karen do with their monsters? Out in the shed gets really hot in the summer.” Kiara started picking out red and yellow beads out of the container. She loved using the purple only last time but wanted different colors for the start of summer.

Kiara felt her mother smile. She didn’t know why, but sometimes just being around her mother she could hear laughter.

Other times she could hear the grumbles. Like when she and her brothers tried to sneak Baba into the house to help with their chores and play with them when they have used up all their screen time without asking for permission first.

“No, we can’t have Old Baba or Milly in the house at night. They must have a waking controller with them while they are ambulatory, and they keep each other company out in the shed when we aren’t interacting with them. It’s not fair to let only one in and leave the other out.”

“Milly is smelly.” Kiara wrinkled her nose.

“She is over ninety years old.” Her mother’s hand reached around and Kiara dropped two beads in it to finish her braid. “I’ve been thinking, when you reach six you can help me with a renewal spell like I did with J-J on Baba.”

“Really?” Kiara bounced in her chair until her mother put a calming hand on her shoulder. “I would get Milly for ever-and-ever?” J-J didn’t need mom’s help with giving Old Baba instructions.

“No Little Bit, the agreement was one hundred years, but there is no need to let her be run-down when we release her. It’s only polite to keep her well-maintained.”

“Oh, I didn’t know…” Kiara’s voice got smaller. “Milly is going away?”

“Not for another ten years. She will keep us company until you turn fifteen.”

“Good, that will be forever from now.”

“Not quite, but it is still a long time for you.”

“When that happens, we should have Old Baba come into the house so he won’t be alone.”

Her mother came around to work on the front which Kiara had prepared for braiding. “Well, Old Baba and Milly both were formed by grandmama-mama at the same time and have the same agreement.”

“What do you mean?” Kiara frowned up as her mother worked on her hair.

“We will need to release both Baba and Milly at the same time, Little Bit. You, me, and J-J, like a proper coven who keeps its promises and contracts. Aunt Esther and Cousin Izzy should be there too. Maybe even Great Aunt Sunshine if she is still around. It will make a good family reunion. … And done.” Her mother kissed Kiara on the forehead. “Ready to help me with mine?”

“Yes, yes.” Kiara scrambled out of her chair and they moved to her mom’s makeup station with the big mirror. The stool there was right up against the big bed where her parents slept, so there wasn’t room for her mom to walk around and work on her hair there, but Kiara could climb on the bed and help her mom with hers.

Her mother placed Kiara’s special bead on the white marble table. The jade and gold bead winked and sparkled as her mother turned on the lights of her makeup table.

When they finished working on her mother’s hair, they put the bead into Kiara’s hair with a quick asking to the Loa Erzulie Danto and leaving a small hand-rolled cigarette on the altar. The bead helped keep Kiara quiet and safe. Mom used to put it in the back of her hair where she couldn’t reach it, but when she started kindergarten, after a long summer of teaching about when and when it shouldn’t be taken off, moved it to the front so Kiara could remove it in an emergency. They left it cracked open because they would be eating in the backyard, which mean Old Baba and Milly would be joining them and Kiara loved being able to talk to both of them freely even though Milly was smelly.

(words 1,250; first published 5/10/2026)

Ordinary Monsters series

One) Monsters in the closet (5/10/2026)
Two) Monsters in the school (5/24/2026)
Three) Monsters in the Restaurant (6/28/2026)
Four) Monsters at the Church (7/5/2026)
Five) Monster in the Club (TBD)

Flash: Positive Punishment (Or I don’t think this means what you think it means)

Photo by Eduardo Soares on Unsplash

“And furthermore, if I get one more customer complaint, you will get a three-day suspension.”

Yada, yada. Maribeth had been nodding along, doing her best to ignore the growing three o’clock cashier lines from all the parents running errands while picking up kids from school which she would get to dive into after her once-every-couple-of-weeks being-bitched-at session with her manager was done. Likely another customer complaint would be happening as she dug out of that line with Latoya and Fernanda.

Next on her agenda of the day is rushing to pick up her five-month-old and four-year-old from daycare since her mom had the flu and couldn’t babysit at the moment after her custodial job. Damn Tim for dumping her the minute she started showing. You think after Seth she would have known better, but one keeps hoping guys actually mean what they say.

Wait, back up.

“A three-day suspension?” Maribeth asked, her voice wobbling.

“Yes. It is a new corporate policy. Three strikes, three-day suspension.” Aaron smirked, pleased to finally get a rise out of her.

O.M.G. The only time she had got three days off in a row since returning to the workforce after a short round of unemployment for the audacity of needing a week to recover from birthing issues with her first kid was the birth of her second kid after her water breaking on the job Monday. The store had scrambled to cover her shifts the final two days before Christmas and had convinced her to come back Friday because Return Day is always crazy.

Punishments had been undesirable hours, which usually worked out well with the hours of her mom’s job, saving them on day care. Forced overtime or double-shifts, with the nice bonuses. Stocking instead of cashier, which allowed her to move around more and even sit a little on the floor. But three-days off in a row?

The things she could accomplish with guaranteed hours of not being randomly called in! Likely it will mean a couple double-shifts thereafter because of being short-handed but what else was new? Corporate didn’t like them turning in more than sixty-hours per week for the full-timers so she would get the same hours after they had to rearrange the hours for the other five full-time cashiers. Not a paycheck hit, unless it was summer when they had the high schoolers available during normal work day hours.

“I will keep that in mind, sir.” Wait until she told the others of the new corporate policy!

(words 417; first published 5/3/2026)

Flash: Early Notification (V is for Veronica)

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Flicking through the letters, Veronica pulled out the only one not a political ad and dropped the rest into the recycling bucket tucked under the entry way table inside the front door. She sorted through the pile on top of the table looking for the letter opener among the things which didn’t make it past the front door. Coins, keys, rocks, two mini chocolate bars from Halloween, paperclips, a dried pen, the electric bill due next week – oops, no, it had been a week, due tomorrow, but no letter opener.

“Where did it end up this time?” A quick search of the house revealed the jeweled hilted piece of metal in the bathroom, likely to remove the plastic around the bacterial soap. She had thrown a fit last time Jericho had used one of the good kitchen knives for the task.

Moving to the apartment’s living room, Veronica slit open the pristine letter, dropping the letter opener beside the cable remote. She would need to remember to return that to the front door. The letter came out crisp, on expensive paper. She unfolded the tri-folded white page.

“Dear…We regret to inform you…please accept our condolences…died valiantly…arrangements for funeral…”

Veronica sucked in her breath and glanced at the date. Three years and two weeks from now. More warning than the notice of surviving spouse benefits, which she got the week before her husband’s cancer diagnosis.

Hearing a key in the front door, she tucked the letter into her purse on the sofa.  She would need to put it with the other governmental letters she got early.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

“Hey, Mom,” Jericho exploded in the room. “The recruiters came by the school today to help us seniors get everything in order for the draft sign up.”

(words 296; first published 4/27/2026)

Flash: P is for Proud Pappa Praise

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“Now try a little lighting, see if you can hit that yacht’s mast,” Storm Front encouraged his daughter while he manipulated the wind to pile the water into the pier area. It was tricky to keep it in the million-dollar area and leave the boaties’ docks safe, still he managed to sink one of the overpriced penis replacements and his SCUBA minions were salvaging the wreck below the water.

His six-year-old screwed up her face concentrating. Usually, her powers were stored behind a FireWall Collar™ for good reason, but she had been working hard for the last month on control since they signed up for “Take your daughter to work day”. On Friday she would need to present her day in front of a class of first graders.

“Remember static goes bottom to top then top to bottom.”

When the sonic boom thunder announced her success, the villain jumped midair beside the wharf warehouse where he had installed her as chewing gum and flying was a little much for her young brain. Below the yacht became little more than kindling. Not the best for robbery, but an amazing feat. Under his proud pappa praise of her success, his daughter glowed.

(words 200; first published 4/19/2026)

Flash: (J is for) Journey to Julenheim

Photo by Deepak Gupta on Unsplash

The sea spray cut through even the oiled woolen blanket the sailors provided. Melinda resettled the heavy cloth about her shoulders while she huddled against the late autumn cold. “I can’t believe he is making us travel all the way to Julenheim.”

“Fifteen,” said her cousin, Mallik, from where he shivered, using the side of the boat as back support.

“What?”

“That is the fifteenth time you said you did not believe Uncle Charles is making us go to Julenheim, like you ever saw him do anything for anyone’s convenience but his own.”

“Shush.” Melinda glanced at the casket lashed to the deck. “Don’t speak ill of the dead.”

Mallik grunted, swiping the water dripping off his beard with his wooly, a thick poncho belted around his waist. He shifted upwards a little to look over the bow.

“See anything?”

“Just fog and rain and waves. The sailors said we will arrive before night.”

“Four days at sea. Wait overnight at the Chainhouse, overpaying for the stay. Then we have to find someone to take us across the inlet to Julenheim proper, find the family house and install him in it, and get back—”

“It’s on Brickyard, about two blocks over from Main throughfare. I have the map.”

“You told me already the lawyers gave you the map.”

“And you keep saying we need to find the house like it will be a big production.” Mallik snapped. “It will be a quick in and out, and everything is being paid for by the estate, so what do we care if we overpay for an inn on either the Chainhouse or Chainport islands? It’s not like his children need any more money than they already have. I say we sleep well, and eat better, before we get back on the boat for another four days at sea to get home. Milk it like the poor relations we are. I kept the house repaired and you sat by the old man’s bedside for over two years until he had the decency to die.”

“He gave us a roof over our heads for those two years.” Melinda looked toward the casket and addressed the spirit within, “For which we really appreciate the help.”

“Yeah, after you sold off the sisters you couldn’t marry off to the temples, it was really nice to buy back their offspring with a generous donation because you needed someone to take care of you when you were dying since your own kids and your ‘real’ relatives, our cousins from prestigious arrangements of your prettiest sister and your younger brother, refused to deal with your venomous ass anymore. You were a true gem Uncle Chuck.”

“Shush. You want him to tell everyone in the family house we didn’t treat him well on the trip out?”

“We treated him better than anyone else for two years.” Mallik wiped his face again. “If that isn’t enough, nothing will be. By the Chains, we even volunteered for this. The lawyers did say the testament allowed for hiring of professional mourners to do the transportation.”

“No one but our family should be entering the Esterall Manor.” Melinda firmly resettled the blanket, tucking her curls under the corner covering her head. “I’ve heard what the mourners do. They just take whatever bedroom closest to the door and toss in the new casket without moving the older resident. Sometimes even dumping the body into,” she whispered the next two words, “a warehouse.” Her hand moved in a complicated pattern they both learned at the temple to ward off angry ancestors. “I could never. The worst are rumored to keep the afterlife clothes and baggage for themselves and consign the noble dead to the Reaper Fires like unclanned commoners. No, Baron Charles Degree, clanhead of the Esterall, deserved a proper escort to a necropolis. If not by his children, at least by family.”

“I’m right here with you Linda.” They had different mothers, but they were born twin close in age and nature. When the Baron had come knocking on the Temple of Comfort door for a trusted servant, the priestesses had recommended them as a pair instead of one of the others his sisters had produced before their deaths and the skinflint had surprisingly agreed. “Though I will be laughing on my death bed as the clan will have to have us taken to Julenheim now that we are full clan members too.”

“The family minimal stipend isn’t enough to live on, but it will be nice to not starve immediately when we get back.”

“You could—”

“Never going back to the temple.” The words were sharper then the cold wind.

“Yeah.” Mallik nodded slowly. “Me either, though I am too old for them to even consider except as a handyman.”

“And they have enough of those already.”

He nodded. After a pause, he lifted his head above the bow again. “I think I see some lanterns burning.”

Melinda shifted to her knees to see above the wooden edge of the ship. They crackled. Thirty-three years wasn’t kind to either the temple comfort children nor the bedside keepers, but her eyes and ears worked better than Mallik’s after his years of offering comfort and home care. The mists held sparks to either side of a darken port, she could make out stone houses walking up from the shoreline, cut into a cliff face. “Looks like we will be arriving in an hour.”

It ended up being closer to two hours as the fog had hidden a half dozen other pilgrims bringing noble family members to their final homes. The majority likely, like the six coffins below decks, will be temporary residents, having paid to be put up at the taverns and rest houses along the shoreline for a time, graining them forever entry into Julenheim proper.

Better to be a beggar in one of the Julen cities than ash in the wind between them.

But a few will be escorting family to one of the upper echelons carved into the cliffs. Meanwhile, tonight, they will be rubbing elbows at one of the Chainhouse island rest homes. It was bad luck to move into a new home after dark.

Their captain helped them check into Fate Foremost, though the cousins moved the casket from the boat to their room. Across the sheltered water of the cove, the necropolis rose sharp and colorful from those families who regularly came to repaint and repair their buildings. Mallik had attempted to get their uncle to spiff up the place in preparation of his death but was refused by the incoming clanhead who held the purse strings once Charles could no longer hold coins in his hands.

They were to note any repairs needed and let Evan know so he could arrange for them when the clan had to visit during the Julen Year of the Delen-to-Julen cycle in four years. Mallik and Melinda had specific order to only escort the old clanhead to the manor with his wardrobe and baggage and nothing else. He offered to pay them two weeks of coin if they didn’t unpack for the dead man. Evan and his father hadn’t spoken directly in two full DJ cycles, and twenty-four years gave him plenty of time to figure out dozens of different ways to spite his father’s spirit.

Mallik joined Melinda on the porch, breaking a cheese bun and then passing her half while their host prepared the dinner meal. They both stood though plenty of seats were provided on the porch. “We are getting close.”

“How much did you order?” Melinda took a bite with the left side of her mouth. Her right side was missing two teeth.

“The lawyers paid Captain Rilley up front for everything. We aren’t gouging anything.” He gave her a sideways look, with a grin, “They, on the other hand, are paid a percentage of the trip, so they got us the best accommodations in town. Cove crawlers, saltwater Whites, tangled greens. Everything on the list of mourner food will be on the table either tonight or tomorrow night. Breakfast will be a simple flat bread with aged cheese.”

“You are enjoying this entirely too much.”

“Yeah, well, with you in the sickroom, you didn’t have to deal with the vultures visiting and splitting the furniture and art, nor their comments about us and the rest of the de-clanned cousins.” He tossed the last of the bread into his mouth and spoke around it. “They were wanting to know, since I had the inside scoop, which of the rest of us would be good to buy back for house servants.”

Rubbing the skin between her eyebrows did not release the tension in Melinda’s forehead. “Did they say anything about us?”

“Yeah, we were too ugly and old. Too beat up, not worth the hassle of training us to be proper servants.”

“You recommended Lynnary, Tschel, Bluem, and Ringer I hope.”

“While I would rather not help out the others, I ain’t leaving clan behind if I can save them. Even recommended little Grunt, for all the good that will do once they see his face.”

“Misha and Avery, of course are nos.”

“They are too damaged for anything.” He turned around and faced her, leaning against the porch’s barrier.  “Want to tell me what happened to Chizel? You just asked for coin to burn her proper instead of adding them to the unclaimed bone pile.”

Melinda jerked her brown eyes from his green-edged ones, to stare off at the city of the dead.

“Ah, shit.”

“Leave this one in the hands of the bedside keepers.” Melinda’s voice grew softer. “Trust me on this one.”

“She was thirteen, would have been fourteen this year.”

“I brought a bag of her ash with me.”

“Now who is breaking the rules?”

“She was family.” Melinda nodded toward Julenheim. “They aren’t going to notice if the manor has more dust than expected.”

“Don’t tell me you have the rest of them as well.”

“I won’t then.”

Mallik grabbed her in a hug, engulfing her in his poncho. “Even my mom?” his voice stopped by Linda’s shoulder.

“Especially all three sisters. They deserve to have a least part of the family wealth they contributed to, even if it just in the afterlife.”

(Words 1720, first published 4/13/2026 – I think this story could be fleshed out into something real.)