And yes I’m the one responsible for this daily shape shifting. Of course by now – after my 108th “confession” of who I really am, I suppose the vast majority of you are going to be skeptical beyond belief. If you read through “Broken Record Technique” you’ll see that the flash fictions on this site are a reflection –albeit pale and adumbrated – of my more polished narrative experiments but that is because I’ve only given myself fifteen minutes everyday to whip these up. This “behind-the-scenes” apology is an attempt to unearth some truth in order to establish some trust which leads me to the observation: isn’t it funny how we need some foothold into the facts before we can suspend our disbelief? 

   Enjoy today’s story and my new novel (plug plug) will be coming out in August of this year. 


Water-Slide Boy


   Most of the residents of Surrey were almost happy to have a super-hero making their streets a little safer. On the night of May 11th, a gang of aspiring hoodlums broke in through the back door of a house on 80th street. They had been keeping tabs on the houses on that block for weeks, driving an ice-cream truck around and around and through friendly chit-chat they’d gleaned essential info for their B and E purposes. “We’re going to Disneyland on Friday. We’re going to Disneyland on Friday,” the children from 7287 shouted as they crammed ice-cream into their mouths as if to shut themselves up from the painful impatience of youth. And so on Sunday night the ice cream truck returned but this time it was black, shelled in large pest-control decals. The B and E was swift and thorough and soon the three criminals (Pete, Ted and Tom) were backing out of the driveway when they were stopped by a sudden thump. “What the..?” Ted, the driver – the most articulate of the three- shouted. He pushed his foot harder on the gas and they backed up into another thud that jerked their necks forward. A third time proved to be no more successful and so Ted drove forward. “Get out and see what that is,” he shouted at Tom and Pete who challenged him with blank stares. “See what it is !” he shouted a little louder and lurched towards them and yes he was the biggest of the three. Tom opened the sliding door and was halfway out when he was knocked over and unconscious by what appeared to be a waterslide that snaked around the front of the truck and then disappeared from view. It was followed only by a trail of high-pitched laughter. On the second trip around the water slide coiled even tighter to the truck and the next morning the police had the criminals all wrapped up like a gift. The clean up of the waterslide which lay like the cracked skin of a giant snake all the way up 80th Avenue took three days. Traffic was held up that Monday morning and call in radio programs were slammed. “We have streets in Surrey. That’s what we have. They need to be kept clear and safe. This Water-Slide boy is the real menace.”  And on and on and so it went but the Water-Slide Boy continued laughing and riding his waterslide through it all.