The J-Spot

 What color is the sun? Photo by Matthew Cabret on  Unsplash It was the most beautiful view you could ever imagine. That evening, my daughter and I were having an insightful discussion about the many different colors of the sun. “Some say that if you look at the sun just a little longer than is well-advised, you will see that there are two more suns hiding in there,” I said. The sun was still safely peeking through the voids in the palms as we walked the garden path toward the sea. It twinkled through in slivers above. She stopped and let go of my hand and just looked through the natural filter from the shade. “I see it!” she said. “It flashed from white to silvery pink. And there is a black one, too.” Morgan had been lucky to catch the sun in its full glory. It must’ve been taking a break from hiding beneath sheets of dark rainless clouds… The palms rubbed in the gentle air. I took her hand and smiled on our way. The soil was getting a little sandier now. The plum trees marked the en

Urban Flash Fiction Photo by Dan Gold on  Unsplash Even if everyone disappeared, Robin’s world wouldn’t be any quieter. No one is ever really talking to Robin, or they would have touched him — jolted him from his dream. Someone would be looking directly through him, gums flapping, fingers pointing, anger in their eyes, a curly black locke bobbing over a wrinkled brow as they approached in angst. But then he’d realize there was someone behind him, and a fight would break out… but that wouldn’t hold his interest. Things aren’t the same without noise. Noise use to attach itself to the important stuff. A car crash; high-pitched screech, always accompanied by the sound of shattering glass, followed by sirens. Or was it the other way around? Without sound, Robin’s attention was like the tip of a pen light. He either looked at something or he didn’t. And he never looked at things that reminded him of the power of sound. He , or maybe it was his eyes, would decide what was important and what