Jewel was a flash fiction I wrote several years back.  It was published with Piker Press.   This story has multiple layers to it, and would speak different things to each individual who reads it.  In the video, I purposely did NOT show the “rider” face as I wanted the readers/listeners to use their imagination of what he’d look like to them.



The Dentist


Back on June 2nd, I had all of my wisdom teeth extracted.  The surgery went without any issues, and the healing process was no where as bad as I thought it would be.  Then my imagination started to churn and I thought- what if things didn’t go quite so nicely?

Hence, this story.  Enjoy!

The Bench


September 11, 2001 changed America.  At least for me, I felt that it had.  Nothing felt quite the same afterwards.  I can still remember it all quite clearly even though it’s been almost sixteen years.

Sixteen years.

Every time I hear a plane fly overhead.  Or, enter a high-rise building.  Or, see a fireman walking past me on the street.  Certain images and sounds would transport me back to that fateful day.

In fact, I haven’t stepped foot on an airplane since July 2001.

As the events of 9/11 continues to haunt me, I decided to write a micro-story and then turn it into a microfilm, The Bench.   In a way, I did this to try and purge some of the feelings of intense sadness and of the anger over what we all had lost that day.  I wrote this from a fireman’s perspective drawing upon a specific story I saw on one of the many 9/11 documentaries.

I then realized I could not remember the name of this fireman.

For the next two days, I hunted online for his name as it’d been several years since I last saw his story.

Finally, I found it in this article:  Husband and Wife Survive World Trade Center On 9/11

Someone also took the iconic picture of him sitting on the bench when he couldn’t find his wife anywhere—







Although his story had a happier ending, I wrote my story with the thought of so many others who’d lost their loved ones.  And even worst, never to have their remains found.

So, let us never forget the sacrifices of all those who died on that day, and continue their legacies into our future generations.



I was in a dark mood when I wrote this one-liner.  It’s called depression.  But, each reader will come away with his or her own interpretation of the story as this is the way it should be.