David Zinke aka ZINK
Bio
I'm 72, a single gay man in Tucson AZ. I am an actor, director, and singer. I love writing fiction and dabble in Erotic Gay fiction too. I am Secretary of Old Pueblo Playwrights I also volunteer with Southern Arizona Animal food Bank.
Stories (30/0)
Doolittle's Descendants
Doolittle’s Descendants Astronomically speaking, it was a non-event until multiple Earth based observers confirmed Hubble’s detection and calculation. An object appeared to be traveling at a rate surpassing the known speed of light. That speed (299, 792,458 kilometers per second) is difficult for the average human to comprehend but if one can envision the length of a football field and then, with the mind’s eye, lay down 11 fields end zone to end zone, one can imagine a single kilometre. Zipping past nearly three hundred thousand of those kilometres in a single second is the point at which one’s ability to imagine bogs down.
By David Zinke aka ZINK3 years ago in Fiction
A Grave Converstion
A Grave Conversation The scene is nearly idyllic. Fluffy clouds dot a deep blue sky while mountains stand in afar in all four directions. Shady Pines is a man-made oasis in the desert. Stately trees, some Oak, mostly Pine, dominate a square mile devoid of indigenous Mesquite, and Palo Verde, trees. Soft breezes play lightly through leaves and needles, whispering of peace and tranquility. Temperatures in three digits are not uncommon in areas between tree shadows. Underground temperatures are much cooler.
By David Zinke aka ZINK3 years ago in Pride
ANAMCHARA
Katelyn was blessed with a mane of flaming red hair which was also a bit of a curse for it aptly warned suitable suitors of her fiery temper. “That temper of yours may cost you your soulmate,” warned Seamus more than once. The prescience of his statement can be debated, but for Katelyn it seems too true. Katelyn Doneghan, a sturdy woman, was born of hardy Irish stock. Her father, Seamus raised her to know the ways of the world, its harshness, its cruelty; but he also instilled in her an understanding that love abounds in all creatures great and small.
By David Zinke aka ZINK3 years ago in Humans
Costume Jewelry II
That was not knocking on the front door upstairs, it was outright banging. Three young women stood frozen in place for what seemed an hour, expecting gunfire. Standing there in fear and dread, Barb replayed the moments they spent in that other dimension. Her mind could not process what they had just experienced. It seemed to her they had spent the best part of a lazy, carefree afternoon in that lovely, sunny meadow. She asked herself silently, “Why did my watch record only a minute of lapsed time?” The more she pondered the question, the more questions presented themselves. The banging on the door persisted, alternated with a heavy hand on the buzzer. The banging sounded like a hammer on wood. As suddenly as it began, the noise from upstairs abated.
By David Zinke aka ZINK3 years ago in Fiction
COME OUT, COME OUT, WHATEVER YOU ARE
First, Happy Pride Month everyone. I applaud every single one of you and I love you all. I even love me. I haven’t always loved myself. I was born in the last century, nineteen-fifty to be exact. I am the oldest boy of eight children. I am the only homo in the lot. My six sisters all have children and my brother took care of ensuring the family name would live on. I’m a great uncle to his grand son. As I said, I’m seventy and I live alone.
By David Zinke aka ZINK3 years ago in Pride
Costume Jewelry
Costume Jewelry News via Facebook; the government had been overthrown by enormous hordes of armed militiamen. The capital in Washington D.C. had been set afire and the Washington Monument had been toppled. Whoever had taken control of the government had also seized control of social media and news outlets. According to evening news, martial law had been declared, and a new president would be installed shortly. Cell phones would be suspended within a week. By the end of the first month email would be cancelled too. While phones still worked, we called Mom and Dad and our other sisters.
By David Zinke aka ZINK3 years ago in Fiction
King of Homesick Hill
King of Homesick Hill William Jackson got the letter two days after his eighteenth birthday, January 2, 1960. He’d been drafted. The war in Viet Nam had been plodding along for five years already. Neighborhood friend, Jimmy Dawson, who lived on Capital Street died in Nam a year earlier. When he got that letter, he considered his options which seemed few at best. Draft dodging was not one of those options in his family. A descendent of several generations of military glory, only one of them had been regular Army. He knew he could avoid the Army by enlisting in one of the other military branches. Jackson’s uncle, Terrence, had been an Air Force Pilot during the Korean War. The fact that Terrence was a jerk on top of his subliminal if irrational fear of heights, was enough to keep him out of the Air Force. His Dad had been Army, a Green Beret no less. To be like his dad in any way or shape or form is not in the cards. He and his Dad are estranged on many levels for many reasons. But that is a whole other story.
By David Zinke aka ZINK3 years ago in Humans
You Should Write a Mystery
You Should Write a Mystery Donald You should write a mystery. It was that simple. That was all she said. Donald reclines in Walter’s Barcalounger. It is mid afternoon on an August day in a small town in Wisconsin. Jack sits across the room in his mothers’ favorite armchair. Samantha is on the phone trying to get Mrs. Tucker to hang up so she can make a call.
By David Zinke aka ZINK3 years ago in Geeks
River Road Bridge
River Road Bridge Boys being boys His name was Bill. At least that’s what he said his name was. He said he was from Chicago. It was not unusual to hear someone say they were from Chicago, at least not in my small southwestern Wisconsin town. Heck, half the people who lived in Chicago had visited that town in the short time I had been alive. At least it seemed that way. My hometown was what some called a “tourist trap.” That he was from Chicago is not the most unique thing about Bill. Bill was a Black man. He was the first black man I ever talked to.
By David Zinke aka ZINK3 years ago in Filthy
Five Dollar Fiction
FIVE DOLLAR FICTION VOLUME ONE I know you got the email I sent out to everyone on my mailing list last February. If you didn’t see that email, you won’t see this one either. It’s probably sitting in your spam folder. So, I decided to post this email here on VOCAL in the hope that you have noticed my Facebook posts about the short stories I’ve recently had published. So, you came here to VOCAL to check them out, right?. Many of those short stories are the direct result of that February email.
By David Zinke aka ZINK3 years ago in Humans
DON'T GO THERE
Don’t Go There, The Elephant Between Them As a boy of six, Jackie was teased, taunted, and traumatized by his older sister; the apple of her daddies’ eye, his “princess”. From the boy’s perspective, Daddies’ little angel was no angel. One day, after egregious levels of terrorizing her little brother, the boy snapped. In desperation, he picked up his sisters’ favorite doll by its leg and threw it at her. The porcelain head of the doll (more specifically its nose) clipped her forehead, drawing blood. The girl screamed bloody murder and ran to Mommy. Just wait ‘til your father gets home young man. That was the first and last time Jack spanked his boy, emphasizing with the phrase, “Real men don’t hit girls, ever!”
By David Zinke aka ZINK3 years ago in Confessions
RIDE SHARE RANT
“Ride Share Rant” I’ve been a part-time ride share driver working on both Uber and Lyft platforms since I officially retired in twenty-fifteen. I hadn’t intended to become a “taxi driver” but when I bought my Twenty-fourteen Dodge Grand Caravan for the express purpose of camping and day trips I did so predominantly because driving had been my passion since nineteen sixty-six when I got my first driver’s license.
By David Zinke aka ZINK3 years ago in Humans