fiction

March 16, 2026

Always in Motion the Future Is

This is the first time I’ve ever put a title at the very start. Usually I will write out whatever it is that sits at the back of my mind and go from there. However this is a quote that is, one, very nerdy; but two, very true.

Before Charlie passed away he asked me if I was going to marry Josh when he was gone. At the time I was so hesitant to tell him yes. Instead I opted for some vague and uncertain, but always pointing to yes. I didn’t want him to think that our marriage wasn’t the one that meant everything to me or that he was replaceable. “Well, this husband is gone. Time to plug in a new one.”

My response was, Probably, why do you ask?

He responded first with that the cat was curled up next to him, which he loved. And genuine proof of his ADHD.

Then he said, just curious. I want you to be happy. If he can do that, I support it.

I should have responded with, “he does.” but instead we went off on a tangent about the cat. He made a comment about taking her with him. Which he didn’t do, but he did take both of the pups with him, shortly after his passing. They couldn’t live without him either, I guess.

In 10 days we are going to get married. We already bought our rings, which we couldn’t afford, but you want them to be monumental. I bought a ring that will sit on top of Charlie’s. Josh is always supportive of my love/life with him and what we had… I don’t know how I got so lucky twice. Genuinely.

At times I feel so utterly, unbelievably lucky, and others I feel so cursed. It’s the nature of life I suppose and what you choose to focus on. I’d rather look at how the horrible things in my life have literally led to the best parts.

My plan for our eventual nuptials was to have a proposal on his half birthday, May 2, and then get married some time in the fall or whenever after. I joked and thought that getting married on November 3rd, between our two birthdays, would have been kind of fun. But that also would have been entirely too close to Charlie’s and my anniversary, November 1st. (He wanted to get married on a day he would be able to remember.)

However, even with the plan, life has a different way of working out as the last five years would absolutely attest. So we are pushing it up.

On March 26th there will officially be two Joshua Hensleys in the world.

January 27, 2026

Silence is Complicity

Every day I reach new levels of rage within me I never thought were possible. Watching the countless angles of Alex Pretti and Renee Goode’s murders, are what I refer to as my “9/11 moment.” If you’re confused by that statement, I am referring to the wave of enlistments that followed that day. So many of my own friends joined to fight against “terrorism” after watching people suffer unnecessary and undeserved violence at the hands of extremists. If there was an opposition to the modern day gestapo I would join in a heartbeat. I will not allow innocent Americans to be murdered because some asshole white supremacists think that brown people don’t belong in “their country.”

Then our “government” gets on television and outright LIES to us about who was murdered. I cannot abide liars and grifters and every single person in this government is precisely that. They are there to fulfill their own selfish desires. Especially the wannabe dictator. He is causing all of this chaos because he refuses to let the truth of his heinous crimes come to light from the proof within the Epstein Files.

If you’re one of the ignorant few who think he is innocent, then why the fuck would an innocent man not release the information to prove that very claim? Instead he has refused a COURT ORDER to release them. He is outright ignoring the very government he swore to protect. To uphold. And then the MAGAt pieces of shit get out there and demand law and order, I guess that only applies to people who don’t look and sound just like them.

Then on top of all of that, I have family members supporting this fucking pedophile. I don’t understand how I could come from a christian family that can abide this. This is against everything I was ever fucking taught. But racism and elitism runs deep.

For so long I ignored how they treated my own father who they felt was “beneath them.” He came from poverty. From a horrific childhood that could have been avoided if he had been adopted by a family who would have loved him. However my selfish, self-centered “grandmother” wouldn’t give up one of her meal tickets.

And that doesn’t speak to the brokenness of our system, but rather the broken person. And to outright call for the end of government aid because of “one bad person” is equivalent to me calling for the destruction of all Republicans because of the man who regularly shits himself on live television.

If you know someone who does not, AT THE VERY FUCKING LEAST, speak out against the execution, the MURDERS of Alex Pretti and Renee Goode they are complicit in the destruction of our democracy. We are watching our leaders allow these masked nazi’s into our communities to terrorize them. To destroy them. That is not America. At least not the one I was SOLD my entire life that was a melting pot, a place where we welcome all no matter their past. If that never even existed, I will be damned if I do not make it a reality. I want the America I was “sold.” We DESERVE that country.

July 9, 2025

Fuck. My. Life.

I want to write more than I want to breathe, but my thoughts are so chaotic right now I don’t even know where to begin. It just goes to show me, once fucking again, that life can change in a single insignificant moment.

This past Monday, my boss waited until the end of the day to let me and my only other co-worker know that he is shuttering his business. He has tried to make things work but with his health issues he couldn’t keep trying anymore. Where he did (no judgement in that statement by the way) is by finding a job for himself. Last Christmas he ran into an acquaintance that dropped this opportunity in his lap. He and his wife debated whether they should. They have built up this business over the last ten years and they didn’t want to just “give up.” When he started having severe health issues they took it as a sign and kept going down this new road.

Granted, they had already started his application/interview process before the health issues arose. So severe were they that he had to have open heart surgery to fix 3 issues and, after a 13 hour surgery, he flat lined in the recovery room. Luckily they were able to bring him back.

This choice for him and his family is significantly better. He has two kids, one going off to college, and they’re both moving into the part of life where they are taking care of their aging parents. (Luckily, mine are all dead!) I’m glad he could get something that would lighten the stress of running a business. Having to constantly worry about making enough money for your employees and yourself sounds like hell to me.

I saw how difficult it was from my husband. He owned his own company and when he finally shuttered his, because the work did the same thing it’s done here, he was distraught. He felt like a failure and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. At least my hubby and boss both tried. It’s just the lack of opportunity and the fucking red tape that keep people from excelling. For El jefe it sure as shit was work flow though. He networks with the best of them.

That said… I am without a job.

That just means that the only thing left to take from me is my health. But if we’re going with the Job parable, it’ll probably be my house before that. I don’t have any kids, so they won’t be crushed when it ultimately collapses in on itself. At least I have that silver lining.

Even with the anxiety and the panic of this I could easily change my perspective. Yes, it is terrible, the menstrual “cherry” on the fucking top of my shit sundae. Y’know, the one the good lord has been cooking up for me these past 6 fucking years.

However, before me lies a plethora of choices. Three off the top of my head are: find a totally new line of work, start my own business and keep going, or take the fucking hint and move the HELL out of Nazi Germany with it’s American facade. While I would love to get the fuuuuuuuuuuck out of here, I feel like that would open up way more complications. So I’ve opted to start my own business and keep going. With any luck I’ll be picked up by ICE once they’ve made homosexuals illegal. (It’s coming. Don’t you fret. All outlined in Project 2025.)

Starting my own business is so overwhelming. I have a good idea where and how to start but… The real problem is going to be finding work. Now I can bid shit at a competitive price and maybe get the jobs. At least get SOME money versus no money. My boss was determined to charge Covid prices. Honey… not in Trump’s economy. They rather low ball you and then never pay you at all. lol (Oh, fuck… now I have to chase down my own unpaid fees. Ugg.)

That’s my life. I for one can’t wait to see what disease, famine, or torture is sprinkled on top of the sundae. Maybe I’ll just die? Nah… not enough suffering for god. He likes to watch you wallow in misery before he takes your life. It’s the only way he can cum.

September 13, 2024

2024 Flash Fiction Entry #2 – From the Depths

Welp… another tower fell on 9/11… my chances of moving onto the next round. (Was that distasteful?) Anyway, I genuinely was so proud of this story. I wrote it earlier than I ever have done so in previous entries and edited it from the passenger seat on the way to Santa Barbara the day it was due. Unfortunately I only placed 15th. I needed to get 8 or higher to have enough points to proceed. Oh well. I have never written an “action” style story before and, even though I am a novice in this particular arena, I really enjoyed writing this piece. From the commentary from the judges (posted after the story) they seemed to like it too. Their critiques were right on the money.

The challenge: Genre – Thriller; Location – A black-tie event; Object – A wet-suit

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“From the Depths”

Agent Joel Salvador blended seamlessly with the other waiters dressed in their loose-fitting wet suits, matching the nautical theme of the event. Carrying a tray with flutes of champagne, he snaked his way through the crowd of Washington elites toward the dais on which the presidential candidate Douglass Troupe was scheduled to speak.  

Smiling politely, he bowed and offered a senator a drink as he watched the last elevator of guests arrive out of the corner of his eye. Dressed in their best black and white attire, the twelve politicians entered the party as another server stepped inside and disengaged the lift. 

Just as they said, Joel thought, as he spun and offered another drink.   

The exclusive black-tie event was held within a wine bottle shaped hall of tempered glass, twelve miles off the coast of Virginia Beach. The elevator shaft, of the same make, rose up from the center of the room toward the surface of the Atlantic Ocean sixty feet above them. The sea water was thick and dark as ink just on the other side of the transparent walls. 

Regardless of the stock on their trays, the servers stood dispersed among the crowd as instructed by catering. None of the guests paid them any mind. Joel stuck to his position and waited. His heart pounded in his ears. He could feel the weight of the gun strapped against his left rib cage. 

Douglas emerged from one of the five rooms off the main hall and walked to the edge of the raised platform. Clearing his throat, he ran a hand through his thinning hair. The conversation and laughter echoed through the chamber drowning out his call to attention. 

Flicking his index finger against his glass, Douglas cut through the noise and brought them to silence.  

“Good evening,” he said with a raspy voice. “I want to welcome you to celebrate the already guaranteed win.” His bulging eyes surveyed the room. 

Half of the guests reluctantly applauded. 

“We have gathered you here to thank you. Your efforts swinging the election have been perfect. No one has ever been as complicit. We could not have accomplished our plans without you.” 

Unease swelled through the hall. The politicians looked nervously around the room at their peers. Some leaned and whispered to their neighbors. 

Douglas held out a hand and from the same room, from whence he came, in walked a feeble old man. His back arched forward, clutching a cane in one hand. The incumbent president joined his opponent at the edge of the stage. 

“You ready, John?” Douglas asked. 

Movements slower than a sloth, the president looked up with a wicked grin. 

Almost there. 

As John stood to his full height, he dropped his cane. The sharp snap made the crowd jump and drew all eyes to the two men whose features began to undulate. The candidates’ appearances morphed before the throng into lean, pale, human-like creatures dressed in Armani suits. Their amber colored eyes slanted down from the outside corner, reaching toward the tips of their wicked grins that revealed two sets of fangs in their mouths. Their tongues flicked from their bulbous lips like gasping tape worms. 

Shrieks filled the room and lifted into a crescendo as every waiter, but Joel, transformed to match the things on-stage. The politicians scrambled and rushed toward the elevator, but the creatures beat them to it and formed a line, pushing their prey back.  

“Don’t even try,” Douglas cooed with a new voice like silk, “the elevator is disengaged.” 

A chorus of panicked voices and cries rose up from the trapped politicians. The air in the chamber crackled with terror. 

“Shut up!” John cried out, “You got everything you wanted! This is just congratulations on a job well done. Unfortunately for you we shall reap the rewards. After we drain every one of you, we will be able to duplicate your appearances. We will rule this country.” 

The servers lunged at the nearest victim and, secured in their arms, plunged their fangs into a neck. Their tongues hungrily sucked up every drop of blood. The free guests scattered toward safety.  

This is it! 

Joel pulled his weapon from within his wet suit and fired a shot into each of the candidates’ hearts. With everyone distracted, he pressed the alert button inside the left leg of his suit. Joel backed toward the elevator. 

John and Douglas mirrored the other as they looked down at their smoking, bloodless chest wounds. Their lips parted into vicious sneers.  

“We’re shapeshifting vampires, idiot,” Douglas growled. “Bullets don’t kill us.” 

Joel pointed his gun and fired five shots, in a plus formation, into the glass wall. The bullets lodged halfway through. 

The people around Joel scattered, clearing a path to the lone exit. 

Joel got into the elevator. With his eyes fixed on the enemies around him, he yanked the set of maintenance keys hanging from around his neck and set the compartment to neutral.  

The creatures rushed toward him as the doors began to close. 

“You might want to look,” he said, pointing to the pierced glass, as the lift doors consumed him. 

From the black emerged the round nose of a grey submarine charging full steam into the center of his marks, shattering the glass.  

Joel crouched low and gripped the wood railing close to the panel, prepared for the abrupt change of pressure and the moment to strike. 

As the ocean water flooded the chamber, the escaping air pressure launched the elevator up the shaft and slamming into the facade of an oil rig at its end. 

The agent struck his hand out like a snake engaging the elevator brakes. The doors opened as the entire rig lurched to the side. 

Spraying up triangular wings, a speed boat rushed to the sinking platform. The craft pulled alongside long enough for Joel to leap onto the vehicle and then speed off into the night. 

“Another success?” the driver shouted over his shoulder. 

“Mission accomplished.” 

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”From the Depths” by Joshua Hensley –    

WHAT THE JUDGES LIKED ABOUT YOUR STORY –

{2038}  I enjoyed the concept of an underwater, wine bottle-shaped hall made of tempered glass. Joel’s move — marking the glass so that the submarine could shatter it — was clever. The ending lines brought the story to a satisfying close.  

{2320}  The reveal that we’re in an underwater complex was great. That immediately heightened interest and it deepened the danger that Joel was in (he can’t just walk out of the building. He’s trapped, so his plan has to work). “Spraying up triangular wings” was an amazing visual description for the speedboat’s arrival. It gave it the quality of an angel coming to rescue Joel. I was not expecting the twist that we were dealing with shapeshifting vampires, but it was a treat when we got there. The other waiters being vampires as well was a good choice. It makes Joel feel even more isolated (the harder you can make things for our hero, the better). I was nervous for him when the bullets didn’t pierce the glass, and the submarine moment was awesome. 

{2026}  What a timely and topical premise: vampiric creatures overthrow the corrupt American election during an underwater celebration party. With the talks of election fraud in the media, this story feeds into existing news and preys on existing fears. I especially enjoyed the shapeshifting nature of this piece, which is genre-blending and unexpected. My favorite part was the description of the setting–an empty bottle under the ocean. I can really picture it! The tension is high in this piece from the very beginning, and you do a good job relaying the layered dimensions of this for various groups present. Thanks for sharing your writing with us!  

WHAT THE JUDGES FEEL NEEDS WORK –

{2038}  I wanted some brief understanding of what was at stake here, politically — was the presidential candidate a member of the same political party as the current president? I’d suggest naming either Joel or John differently — having two four-letter names, both starting with “Jo,” made it hard to remember which was which. I wasn’t sure what Douglas meant by his announcement (“your efforts swinging the election”) — could you be more specific? Were these legislators who had gerrymandered their districts? Also, if they were helping Douglas and John to win, why would Douglas want to kill them? When Douglas and John initially turned into vampires, your description made me imagine them more as demons (I think it was the flickering tongues). Perhaps you could specify their nature, or cut the part about the tongues.  

{2320}  Small logistical question – if the shapeshifters already have the body of the “incumbent president” under their control, why did they need to rig the election? They already control the White House. Is this his last term? You might want to specify that. Keeping the vampiric nature of the targets a secret for some of the story was a great choice, but you might consider revealing Joel’s mission right away so you can play with our expectations. Usually, you don’t want to keep your main character’s goal shadowy because it can mess with pacing. If we don’t know what a character wants, we have no way to gauge the story’s progression. You might explicitly tell us that Joel is here to assassinate the candidate (so we know when the story ‘begins,’ if that makes sense), but mislead us about motivation. Rather than calling him “Agent Joel,” you could just call him Joel. That way, we’re in an unsteady place of not knowing if we should root for him or not. Why does he want to kill the future president? That question will keep us hooked and the uncertainty on our toes. You can still have your big twist, but you’re not hiding the character’s goal from us. If you reveal his plan to assassinate the man right away, then you can have Joel setting up, getting in position, weighing options. There was a lack of actions from him for a while in this story. He’s our POV character, but he faded into the background a little while the politicians were speaking. If we know his plan to kil them but not why, you can take us on more of the journey with him (again, without spoiling the reveal). You might want to diversity the names “John” and “Joel” more. They start with the same two letters and are the same length. This means that readers might mix them up a little at the beginning, mistaking who is doing what at a glance. 

{2026}  Although the premise is really topically relevant and charged for today’s readership, which is great to engage the reader, I wonder a bit about the set up. For instance, the speech opens with admitting rigging the election. However, this feels like a believability snag to me. This would be super hush hush if so, and wouldn’t ever be announced at a public event, even if all attending were involved. Caterers, for instance, might record or overhear and spread news to the media, risking protests and international intervention. Thoughts to consider for a future version of this should you choose to revise! For an optional challenge, consider keeping your word limit in place if you do revisit this.