“Tom Marley is a racing camel,” Ahmed said. “The fastest in all of the Sinai.”
“Tom Marley?” I asked. “Not Bob?”
Ahmed appeared somewhat surprised by my ignorance, but the stupidity of tourists is known the world over.
Ahmed patiently explained that Tom Marley, the racing camel, was named after Tom Marley, the world-famous country and western singer from America.
America, Ahmed pointed out, was my country.
He stopped short of accusing me of ignorance, but the implication hovered between us in the desert air.
I looked at my girlfriend, Bev. …
Balls to the wall has nothing to do with testicles. Neither does balls out.
Both expressions mean working at maximum effort or speed, and the balls in question are part of a device invented in the 17th century — the centrifugal governor.
Please, allow me to explain.
James Watt designed the most widely known centrifugal governor in 1788 to prevent his steam engines from running out of control.
On the diagram below, the balls (labeled #3) are attached to lever arms linked to a vertical shaft. The horizontal shaft is the engine’s drive shaft.
I published a digital chapbook containing 12 pieces of my best flash fiction. It’s a one-hour short-read available as an e-book and part of Kindle Unlimited.
Although short, Jim Latham’s Noon in Florida packs a punch. Each of these short stories illuminates an aspect of what it means to be human. From a son connected to the nuances of his relationship with his dying father via the beeping of a heart monitor in “Keeping Time,” to an “old guy” doing what…
If you’re like me, even a little bit, you’ve never finished the pain-in-the-ass that is peeling a pineapple and thought, Hey, I want another food-prep project.
Even if it was a pink pineapple sent directly from heaven.
What you’ve probably done instead is sucked the blood from a knife-jabbed finger, listened to your back pop as you leaned over to pick up a sliver or four of pineapple rind from the floor, wondered how the hell you got pineapple juice all the way across the kitchen, and swore to never again eat pineapple unless someone else cuts it up for…
As if coronavirus, heat domes, inflation, and murder hornets weren’t enough, now we have a new worry: moon wobble.
By the mid-2030s, every coast in the USA will be subjected to higher high-tide floods due to a wobble in the moon’s orbit interacting with rising sea levels, according to a new study from NASA and the University of Hawaii published in Nature Climate Change
Record flooding severe enough to damage coastal infrastructure and displace residents is expected. Over 100 million people could be displaced globally.
Low-lying areas near sea level are most at risk. According to NASA Administrator Bill Nelson…
“Gotta say, Ev, you look good, but you look like shit at the same time.” Phillip fiddled with a toothpick.
Evan swallowed a mouthful of peanuts. “Been dreaming all day and writing all night for a couple weeks now.”
Phillip kept fiddling.
“You got something to tell me?”
“Guard My Bed.”
“Yeah. She won. I was gonna tell ya, but with everything — ”
Evan ate a peanut.
“Did you look at the odds or just like her name?”
“Liked her name.”
Phillip shook his head.“You know the payout on thirty-to-one?”
“You’re not serious.”
Evan shouldered his backpack and grinned.
“I can’t believe it,” Phillip said.
“Me either. I’ve dreamed this so hard.”
“What’s your plan?”
“Start in southeastern Bolivia, where peanuts were domesticated. Travel through Peru and Ecuador and keep working my way north, tracing the spread of the plant and learning local recipes. Blog about travel and food.”
“That’s it. That’s your plan?”
“In a nutshell.”
Phillip groaned and pulled Evan into a hug. “Take care of yourself, little brother.”
“I will.” Evan walked into the airport.
Phillip turned to Guard My Bed. She wagged her tail.
“Ready to go home, girl?”