Reputation – A Friday Flash Crime Story

“I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
“I got that, Stew. Let this one go. No one is going to blame you if you let this one go.”
“This ain’t a buisness for sentimentals.”
“I am not talking ’bout sentimentals, dumb ass, I am talking about an infant. Why in the hell is there is hit on a freaking infant?”
“What do I know? I don’t ask questions. I have a reputation.”
“To hell with your reputation.”
“Hey,” he bowed up at his partner, raising his fist.
“Boys, quit it. No fighting in my living room. Not when you where kids, not ever. Got it?”
The answered in unisom. “Yes M’am.”
“Now what are you kids biggering about? You both have a job to do. Do it. Money is good, job is easy. Get it over with.”
“It’s a baby, Ma.”
“So? They grow up, do damage. Just look at you too. Go do the job, and bring the money. I send your little brother to get stuff for dinner. Got a special meal planned tonight.”
Bruce grinned at Stew. “It’s today, isn’t it? I almost forgot.”
“Well I didn’t,” Stews voice beaming with satisfaction.
“I would never forget the anniversary of her first.”
“Stop kissing her behind.”
“Boys get to work. Kill the damn kid, I want you home for supper.”

Copyright Claudia H. Blanton 2014

This blog post is a responds to the daily prompt “reputation”, which you can find here: 

The Paper


Everybody dreaded getting the newspaper. But like a good little herd of sheep, every morning, everyone who was old enough to read, stood in line in the three places the paper was given out – the central grocery store, the post office on the other side of town, and the largest church, adjacent to the state park.
Everyone hesitated to look at the obituaries at the end of the publication, but they all ended up doing so, no matter which ritual they compiled to get there, or how many distractions where in their day.
They all looked, just like my parents did, everyday, waiting until we were home, where we sat around the table. My father overlooked the procedure, being the one who quietly read each name as it showed itself upon that dreadful page.
No one wanted to see their name there.
No one wanted to see the name of a loved one there.
Because the paper knew.
It knew when it was your time to die.

This morning, like any other, he was reading quietly, sipping the cup of coffee Mom provided for, each and every time, freshly brewed, moved into the fine china our Grandmother had brought from Germany. The delicate handles never hid the slight shaking of his hand, and the smile of relief he gave all of us, when none of our names where listed.
Another day living without the burden of death.
His expression on this morning was different.
He starred at me, a deep stare, one what questioned but one that also knew that I had been watching him. Closely.
He quickly rose up, leaving the paper behind, moving out of the room, as I grabbed it, frozen by the words in front of me, in the silence of dinning table.
“Dr. Wayne Duncan, 52, will be put to rest at the Cornerstone Baptist Church, together with his wife Sherry Duncan 43. The couple will be missed by their three children, Mary, Jennifer, and Jackson.”
In a move to keep the sight from my younger siblings, I pulled it closer and turned it, only to be shocked by its headline.
“Two dead in murder-suicide. Prominent West-End Doctor beats his wife to death, then shoot and kills himself.”

Copyright Claudia H. Blanton 2014

This is a responds to the Daily Prompt post for today, you can find it here:

This Moment

This Moment – A Haiku

powerful moment
alive in the present dance
expansion awaits

Copyright Claudia H. Blanton 2014

Daily Prompt:

My Spiritual Answer to this prompt can be found here: 

The Portal – A Friday Flash Fantasy

Today’s Flash Fiction is based on the following picture prompt from


The Portal

“No, John. No, don’t.” The panic in her voice was as deep as the forest was vast.
“It’s okay, it really is safe.”
“I am not going through there.”
“A little late for that, or do you want to wait here in the middle of nowhere until tomorrow?”
She looked around, the imposing trees throwing darker shadows already, as the afternoon began to make space for evening.
Sighing she looked at her brother. “Okay no, I don’t.”
“It will be fun, I promise. There is really nothing to worry about.”
“You have done this plenty of times?”
“Six times, not including this trip. Nothing happened. I walked along the shoreline, collecting samples.”
Ellena remembered the collection of jars and baggies that cluttered his desk, leaving no space for anything else but his discoveries, the contents looking harmless, even if unfamiliar, in color and structure.
Taking a deep breath, she leaned back into the seat of their car, adjusting her dress to cover her knees, like any proper lady would.
The Portal through the tree was large and frightening, but a ray of sunlight engulfed the area, with such depth, calming her somewhat. How could anything this pretty be dangerous?
“Well then lets go. Time to see that new dimension of yours.”

Copyright Claudia H. Blanton 2014

Today’s Daily Prompt asked us to write about Heroes of our past – particularly at 5 years of age.

This is my interpretation:


I release the heroes of my past
as I make space – future at last!
Letting go of yesterday
Releases me to say
That my choices I now make
create what I want, my now at stake.


The Outsider


The Outsider

I was always the outsider, the lonely one, the one who was picked on, bullied, messed with. I was the one that everyone vented their frustration on, not only in school but also at home.
I was different after all, different in the many ways no one understood, and frankly, I did not allow them to see. They never knew how different I really was, not until, well, today.
They just went on their merry way, not considering for once in their lives how I would feel, what was going on inside of me, or how they fueled an untamed rage that burned so deep into my soul, that there was nothing left to save.
Nothing, nothing I did, say or how I tried to show them, that I was a human being, who needed a little dignity, and love was acknowledged, not even for the shortest period of time.
I had no one to go to, no safe place to be, walking from one hot plate of despair to another.
They made me.
They created the monster I had become
And for the first time in my life I was grateful.
The beautiful crackling and moaning, that escaped the building as it lost is structural integrity was more exhilarating than any symphony. The screams of the students running from their collapsing school, some still on fire, others dazed and confused by the thick heaviness of the smoke reminded me of an aria, no soul could imagine a more breathtaking composition.
I wanted to watch, embrace the dancing fire, engulf myself in the midst of the powerful creation that I, only I had brought upon them, but I knew I had to be careful.
After all, my work had just begun.

© Claudia H. Blanton 2014 Finest Craft Beers from America’s Best Micro Breweries- 300x250 banner

Allure And Obsession



her delicate charms
fragile rainbow colored eyes
fleeting enchantment

Written for today’s prompt:

Write about anything you’d like, but make sure that all seven colors of the rainbow — red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet — make an appearance in the post, either through word or image.

That above Haiku is a display of an innocent connection, but I am currently exploring a story line for a future project in which such an encounter turns into an obsession. 

I am very much looking forward to writing “Split”. It will be a lot darker and less magical then “The Historian” – Series. 

Have a wonderful day everyone!