Spotting the Heretic | Frank Hubeny

Clyde knew enough theology to spot a heretic. He cursed them in capital letters. He exaggerated his words till they slipped through the nets of truth. He ridiculed without mercy. He wanted every heretic to feel just how hot hell would get.

During his massive heart attack Clyde heard a soft voice say, “What do you think you’ve been doing?” “I’ve been serving You, Lord,” he responded, but he realized, much too late, that he had been serving only himself.

No one expected Clyde to recover anymore than they anticipated the joy his revived words would bring when he did.


Frank Hubeny has poetry published in Snakeskin and The Lyric. He has published flash fiction in Whispers and Echoes. He regularly posts poetry, prose and photography to frankhubeny.blog.

Splashy | Frank Hubeny

Busy folk in the city paid no attention to the clouds splashing through the sky. The clouds got darker. They dropped thick, beautiful snow. The busy folk couldn’t get to work. The snow was so deep the snow plow driver didn’t see the sign to raise the plow in time. That made a mess.

People blamed the politicians who promised global warming. The politicians blamed the scientists. The scientists blamed Gaia. Since Gaia doesn’t exist, she couldn’t care less.

The clouds couldn’t care less either, because that’s not what clouds do. They splash through the sky dropping rain and snow.


Frank Hubeny has poetry published in Snakeskin and The Lyric. He has published flash fiction in Whispers and Echoes. He regularly posts poetry, prose and photography to frankhubeny.blog.

Gray Butterfly | Frank Hubeny

While walking through the prairie Joseph noticed the colorful butterflies moving from blossom to blossom. He remembered the satisfaction of doing purposeful work before his injuries.

Back on the street a carload of unemployed youth who called themselves the Retaliators taunted him as they drove by shouting, “Useless eater!”

Joseph’s accident may have been a curse, but how great were his blessings! That evening before lying in bed he kissed his wife and she smiled. Falling asleep he saw a gray butterfly sitting on a post waiting for him becoming as it few off colorful and bright.


Frank Hubeny spends his time between Miami Beach and Northbrook, Illinois. He regularly posts poetry, short fiction and photography to https://frankhubeny.blog.

Moon Song | Frank Hubeny

They sat outside our dorm singing the Moon Song. It was his favorite. Even she knew it. He sang, “Yadda yadda goo goo.” She followed, “Doodoo doodoo wah wah.”

This would go on and on.

I imagine them singing the Moon Song for decades even after a long, hard day of fighting and making up. When they grew too old to vocalize, I imagine them singing it to each other in their hearts.

Indeed, I hope so.

But we didn’t have air conditioning. My window was open. This was exam week. And that’s my lame excuse for shouting, “Shut up!”.


Frank Hubeny spends his time between Miami Beach and Northbrook, Illinois.  He has appeared in The Lyric, Snakeskin and Ancient Paths Literary Magazine.  He regularly posts poetry, short fiction and photography to https://frankhubeny.blog.

Five Second Rule | Frank Hubeny

Diane dropped a biscuit. She glanced at Brian to see if he noticed. He did.

“Five second rule!”

“What if I waited ten seconds?”

“Ten second rule!”

“What if I found it a month later?”

“Blow off the dust rule!”

When Diane picked up the biscuit she found another reasonably good one down there she must have also dropped. She tossed it to Brian. He ate it.

“Brian, you didn’t blow off the dust.”

She wondered. Was that a smirk on his face? When Brian barked, she stopped teasing and tossed him the other biscuit. “Good boy.”


Frank Hubeny spends his time between Miami Beach and Northbrook, Illinois.  He has appeared in The Lyric, Snakeskin and Ancient Paths Literary Magazine.  He regularly posts poetry, short fiction and photography to https://frankhubeny.blog.

Fresh Snow | Frank Hubeny

Jim woke from his dream with a message: “You’ve got ten years, maybe eleven. Count on no more.”  The “ten years” gave him hope he’d get through this winter after a fresh foot of snow last night piled onto two already out there.

Across the road Jim heard Beatriz scream at her dogs. He considered yelling, “Merry Christmas, Beatriz!”  But he’s been there, done that, and wished he hadn’t.

With only ten years left Jim felt he might as well plow the drive to her cabin, round up her dogs, and see if she needed other help with the snow.


Frank Hubeny spends his time between Miami Beach and Northbrook, Illinois.  He has appeared in The Lyric, Snakeskin and Ancient Paths Literary Magazine.  He regularly posts poetry, short fiction and photography to https://frankhubeny.blog.

Friday the 13th | Frank Hubeny

As a new convert to rationalism Bill proudly announced to Martha that he didn’t even realize that yesterday was Friday the 13th until he got up this morning. “And nothing went wrong yesterday!”

Martha wrapped her arms around him. “You’re cured!  You finally realize that the only days worse than Friday the 13th are all the other days in the month.”

“You mean today could be worse than Friday the 13th?”

Martha rapidly nodded her head, “Yes!  Yes!  Statistically today could be awful.”

“I wonder what could go wrong?”

“Well, for one, today’s Friday, not Saturday.”


Frank Hubeny spends his time between Miami Beach and Northbrook, Illinois.  He has appeared in The Lyric, Snakeskin and Ancient Paths Literary Magazine.  He regularly posts poetry, short fiction and photography to https://frankhubeny.blog.

Patience | Frank Hubeny

George tosses opportunities like an infant tosses food then cries for more. Parents are generally patient. After a mild paddling or time-out, they offer clean food and try again. Most children know what to do.

Unlike most children George is the kind of guy who keeps tossing nourishment expecting the sun to rise tomorrow since it’s been doing that for the past sixty years.

Patience keeps trying, even with the likes of George, but not forever.  George doesn’t know it, but he will be offered one last year to waste.


Frank Hubeny spends his time between Miami Beach and Northbrook, Illinois.  He has appeared in The Lyric, Snakeskin and Ancient Paths Literary Magazine.  He regularly posts poetry, short fiction and photography to https://frankhubeny.blog.

Unexpected Call | Frank Hubeny

After a decade Bill called.  He reached a level of intoxication where lunacy required an audience.  He also had a list of unforgivable people and wanted to go over it with me. Admittedly I’ve messed things up, plenty, but I was surprised to find my name on his list.

After an hour I told Bill I could hook him up with a good shrink, or an exorcist if he preferred.  That worked. He hung up.

A week later I called him back.  Bill was sober and I was tactful.  We joked some before I brought up the exorcist.


Frank Hubeny spends his time between Miami Beach and Northbrook, Illinois.  He has appeared in The Lyric, Snakeskin and Ancient Paths Literary Magazine.  He regularly posts poetry, short fiction and photography to https://frankhubeny.blog.