Flashing My Shorts

Flashing My Shorts

by Salvatore Buttaci

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Overview

Writing stories under 1,000 words is certainly challenging. Called flash fiction, micro-fiction, sudden fiction, and postcard fiction, these quick writes have become quite popular today. They succeed in accommodating readers on the go who lack the luxury of sitting down for long periods of reading. Like patrons at a smorgasbord, they can taste a little of this fine dish and a little of that. They can leave the table without fear of being still hungry.
"With dry humor and a deep sense of irony, Salvatore Buttaci has delivered a book of sparkling gems. These quick stories make us laugh, think, and at times cry. They take us to the core of reality and at other times to the wonders of fantasy." -Kenneth Weene author of Widow's Walk

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780984259472
Publisher: All Things That Matter Press
Publication date: 01/28/2010
Pages: 166
Product dimensions: 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.38(d)

About the Author

Salvatore Buttaci is a retired English teacher who has been writing since childhood. His first published work, an essay entitled "Presidential Timber," appeared in the Sunday New York News when he was sixteen. Since then his poems, letters, short stories, and articles have been widely published in The New York Times, Newsday, U.S.A. Today, The Writer, Cats Magazine, and elsewhere in America and overseas.
In 2001, Pudding House Publications included his work in the Greatest Hits Series with his chapbook, Greatest Hits: 1970-2000. He was also the 2007 recipient of the $500.00 Cyber-wit Poetry Award. His recent chapbook published by Big Table Company is called Boy on a Swing and other poems.
His recent book, A Family of Sicilians..., is available at http://stores.lulu.com/ButtaciPublishing2008
Visit the author's site at http://salvatorebuttaci.wordpress.com
Buttaci lives in West Virginia with his wife Sharon.

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Flashing My Shorts 5 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 1 reviews.
Martha-A-Cheves More than 1 year ago
Flashing My Shorts - Review by Martha A Cheves, Autor of Stir, Laugh, Repeat When I picked up Flashing My Shorts I had no idea of what to expect. What I found was the creations of a man who can take any word, object or feeling and turn it into a short story. Reading Buttaci's writings was almost like reading poetry. In Two Worlds, Will Dennison lives two lives, one in the real world and one in the nightmare world. In Invitation President Clayton Powell is invited to be transplanted to Mars. Doomsday. We've been warned, now the world is dying around us. I Wish I Wish - be careful what you wish for. And then there is my favorite: Saturday at the Zoo Only a tall iron fence separated the two families. "That girl is wearing a red dress, just like mine!" said Missy, then made a move to get closer to the fence. "Behave," said Mrs. Jackson. "Keep your distance from the cage or we'll go home this minute." She took her daughter's hand and held it tightly. "Go ahead and read the sign, Missy. What does it say?" Mr. Jackson looked at her sternly. Missy had no trouble reading the official zoo plaque with its overdone list of synonyms, Do not annoy, badger, bother, disturb, harass, harry, heckle, irk, provoke, peeve, pester, tease, tantalize, or feed zoo creatures. Strict penalty for violators." The caged little girl with Missy's dress stared back at them. She too had a mother and father who held her hands and seemed to be warning her to stay clear of the fence. "Oh, the smell!" said Mrs. Jackson, pulling Missy back. "Why can't the zoo attendants give them a shower now and then. They're filthy, Quentin. I think we've seen enough," though Quentin nodded his head, he seemed in no hurry to leave yet. He watched his daughter staring bit-eyed at the other family. "Aren't they amazing?" he asked her. Missy heard him, but was busy now playing a game with the other girl. Missy would put her hand on her head and the other girl would do the same. Then Missy would stick her tongue out and wait for the caged girl to follow suit. "They are so smart!" said Missy. Her mother scowled, but her father smiled. Other zoo visitors were gathered in front of the lion's den, the elephant swamp, the monkey's tree, the cawing, chirping, whistling birds behind the very tall aviary fence. Only the Jackson watched the caged family in front of them. Quentin Jackson didn't allow the smell inside the cage to upset him. He inhaled the air and knew it was good to be on this side of the fence. Free. "They look like us, don't they, Mommy?" said Missy. "That little girl with the blond hair has a mommy and daddy like me. They need new clothes but they look a lot like us. I wish my hair was blond instead of this old black!" Then Quentin Jackson began explaining about the family in the cage in that deep voice of his which he usually saved for his students at the university. "A long time ago, believe it or not, we were the families in the cage. Oh, maybe not a cage in the zoo but in a cage nonetheless. The little blond and her parents belonged to the free families who kept the zoos, the churches, the governments. Civil war came many years ago; even before my own Granddaddy was born. Civil war raged between the True-pers, holding up their red-white-blue, and the Usur-pers demanding their rights by virtue of fairness and the injustice of slavery. "Who won, Daddy?" Now is when I tell you you'll have to read the book to see who won, wh