writing

Chasing El Dorado and Other Myths: Why We Hunt What We’ll Never Find

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From golden cities to youth-giving springs, people chase myths for centuries. But maybe the real treasure isn’t out there—it’s in living fully right here.

We humans love a good story—especially if it comes with a treasure map and the promise of glory. Take El Dorado, the city of gold. Explorers dove into jungles, swamps, and rivers chasing a gleaming dream that never materialized. Or the infamous Money Pit on Oak Island—two centuries of digging, drilling, and bank-draining later, and the only thing people reliably struck was financial ruin. And then there’s the Fountain of Youth, where countless hopefuls imagined sipping their way to eternal smooth skin. (Spoiler alert: the fountain is still under construction.)

Why do we persist? Because myths give us hope, sparkle, and the thrill of “what if?” But maybe—just maybe—the bigger challenge is letting go of the glitter and grabbing onto reality. Reality may not offer eternal youth, pirate gold, or golden streets, but it does offer laughter, love, and dinner conversation. And that’s not a bad deal.

So ask yourself: are you chasing a myth, or are you living your life where the real treasures hide—in plain sight?

Flash Fiction Monday: Don’t Trust a Psychic with a Shrunken Head

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If your fortune teller decorates with her ex-husband’s head, maybe it’s time to reconsider your life choices.

The life was being choked out me. I tried to scream my lips wouldn’t move. 

 I threw punches and kicked trying to break the strangle hold. His hands tightened around my neck. I was gasping for breath.

I suddenly woke, my soaking wet t-shirt glued to my skin. 

My sheet coiled around my neck and chest like a Florida python. My heart racing faster than a Space X rocket leaving the launch pad. 

Seven nights running. Seven times I lived through this nightmare. Me walking on the Vegas strip. Me grabbed from behind by a casino heavyweight collecting unpaid gambling debts.

I needed professional help all I could afford was Madame Xua (pronounced Shoo-Ah). Madame Xua, the psychic who contacts the spirit world. Madame Xua, the psychic who predicted the decapitation of my on again off again girlfriend Anita’s grandmother.

Two more recurring dreams later I sat across from Madame Xua staring at a shrunken head hanging from the ceiling behind her. The walls were covered with photos of rice paddies, Vietnamese tribal people, spears, and a large photo of Madame Xua standing barefoot in the middle of a bonfire, wearing a gossamer gown her eyes closed and a smile across her faced. 

I wanted to bolt. Before I could, she took hold of my hand and I felt an electric charge exchange between us.

“I’ve been waiting for you for two weeks, Henry. Why didn’t you call?” Madame Xua said.

What was she talking about? I made the appointment yesterday.

“I called you yesterday, not two weeks ago,” I said.

Madame Xua saw me staring at the shrunken head. 

“Pay no attention to Minh, my second husband. He did me dirty.”

“He did you dirty? What did he do? How did he die?” 

“He ate sushi I specially prepared for him. Soon after he had a stroke and was quickly gone.”

I wanted to leave but I didn’t want  I didn’t want Madame Xua thinking I did her dirty and placing my head hanging  next to Minh.

I turned away from Minh and stared at the Madame Xua’s photo. The flimsiness of her outfit left nothing to imagination.

“Do you like my body?” she asked.

“I was looking Minh.”

“Oh come now, Henry. Let’s not begin our session with a lie.”

“Okay, I was staring at your picture.”

“It doesn’t do me justice.”

I needed to change the subject. “Can you tell me about my dream. Is someone going to kill me.”

“I have intimate knowledge of your dream. Place your hands in mine and close your eyes.”

“Why are doing this?” I said as I placed both of my hands in hers and closed my eyes.

“Do not speak, do not open your eyes until I command you to. I am connecting with the spirit world. They get angry if they are interrupted.”

For the next ten minutes Madame Xua hummed an ancient Oriental sound.

She opened her eyes and stared at me. I thought I was looking into hell.

“It’s not good is it?” 

Madame Xua shook her head. “Do not return to Vista drive.”

“That’s the street I live on.” 

“I know,” Madame Xua replied.

“Will I get killed if I go home?”

“You can go home. Just do not go home by Vista Drive. That’s where it will happen.”

“We all die. Maybe you will die on Vista Drive. Maybe you won’t. The voices asked me to warn you not to go home by Vista Drive.”

I thanked Madame Xua and left depressed. Vista Drive was my only way home.

Twenty minutes later I was cruising down Vista Drive wondering where I would die.

My apartment building was two blocks ahead t. I hit the brakes and pulled to the curb. 

The three local TV studios were outside my building. I saw news helicopters circling. I got out of my car and began walking to my apartment. I heard a car stop behind me. I stopped and turned. It was a police car. The officer was putting a ticket on my car.

“That’s my apartment building. There are no other spots,” I pleaded..

“You’re parking in front of a fire hydrant. I’m having your car towed.”

“I’ll move it.”

“Too late. I already called the tow truck.”

I remembered, too late, Madame Xua warned me not to go home by Vista Drive.

Flash Fiction Prompt: Who Needs Coffee When You’ve Got Screams and Gunfire?

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A scream, a bark, and a gunshot crack the morning calm. Can your tough guy shave, think straight, and face the chaos outside?

✍️ Flash Fiction Prompt

First Line (grab hold):

I was halfway through the second pass of the razor when the scream sliced sharper than the blade.

Ensuing Paragraph:

I froze, lather dripping down my cheek like melting snow. Outside my window, the city coughed up its usual soundtrack—horns, heels on pavement, doors slamming—but this wasn’t routine. The scream was raw, high-pitched, human. Then came the bark, guttural and frantic, followed by the flat crack of a gunshot that silenced everything. I wiped the razor on a towel, careful, steady. I don’t smoke—never did, never will—so there was no cigarette to calm the nerves, just the steady rhythm of breath and the hum of blood in my ears. I slid the razor into its case and reached for the pistol I kept under the sink, cold steel against warm hand. In the mirror, a face stared back: jaw square, eyes tired, but not beaten. The kind of face that didn’t ask for trouble but never stepped aside when it came knocking. Trouble wasn’t just knocking now. It had kicked the door off its hinges, screaming, barking, and firing shots. And I had to decide whether to finish shaving… or start bleeding.

❓ Three Questions for Writers

  1. Who is the woman behind the scream, and how does she connect to the tough guy’s past?
  2. What role does the barking dog play—warning, victim, or witness?
  3. Does the gunshot pull him deeper into a personal vendetta, or into a stranger’s nightmare?

Good Things Find You: Start With a Morning Optimism Mindset

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What you expect greets you. Begin each day primed for opportunity, quiet insight, and the people you’re meant to meet.

When I wake up in the morning I expect a great day. I let the day come at me and knowing it’s going to be a great one. It will have unexpected opportunities. There will be unexpected people I will meet. There will be moments of quiet where I get an insight that will blow me away. I operate with a philosophy that everything will turn out OK if I hang in there long enough. Things don’t necessarily turn out the way I want them to turn out but they turn out OK. I know I have the optimism bug and it’s very deep into my DNA and will never leave. I don’t know where I got it. I can’t attribute it to my mom or dad or any other person who was close to me. It’s one of life mysteries for me. How do you feel when you wake up in the morning? Do you feel like going after the day? Do you feel like things will work out for you? I have a theory that how we look at our day and what we expect the day to bring usually comes our way. Is it time for you to change how you look at you expect your day to turn out?

So tomorrow morning, before your feet hit the floor, ask yourself: What good might find me today? The answer could reshape your entire day.

Critical Points to Ponder

  1. Expectation Sets Direction: What three good things do you expect today—and how will you notice them?
  2. Opportunity Radar: When a surprise appears, what’s your first question: “Why me?” or “How can this help?”
  3. Create Quiet Windows: Where will you schedule five minutes for the insight that “blows you away”?
  4. People as Gateways: Who will you greet or thank today to invite connection and serendipity?
  5. t Is a Win: When plans shift, how do you reframe the detour so it still turns out OK?

Flash Fiction Prompt: When Envy Turns Deadly: A Triangle of Love, Lies, and Betrayal

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Two women, one man, and a perfect marriage envied by all. But envy has sharp teeth—and this time, someone plans to bite.

Flash Fiction Prompt

Grab-Hold First Line:

“She always got the best of everything—until now.”

Melissa’s smile stretched wide as she watched her best friend laugh at her husband’s joke, the two of them glowing like a perfect advertisement for happily-ever-after. It was maddening. Rachel had always been the lucky one—the better house, the better career, the better man. Melissa had clapped, cheered, and nodded like a faithful friend, but behind her applause simmered years of envy. She had longed for a love that steady, a life that secure. Instead, she had scraps—men who vanished, promises that broke. But not this time. She studied her friend’s husband, the way his eyes softened when he spoke to Rachel, the way his hand rested gently on hers. She wanted that warmth, that certainty. She deserved it. And she had already decided: she would take it. After all, Rachel had had enough good fortune. Now it was Melissa’s turn.

Three Questions for Writers

  1. What inner conflict does Melissa face as she plots betrayal against her closest friend?
  2. How does the husband react—willing accomplice, innocent target, or something in between?
  3. What price will envy demand once the triangle collapses?

Why We Refuse to Learn: Pain, Falsehoods, and the Price of Clarity

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We cling to illusions until suffering rips them away. The question is—must pain always be the teacher, or can awareness guide us sooner?

Why do we not learn from our experience? Some people do and some people do not. It often takes a painful experience accompanied with much suffering to create a condition where we are willing to let go of our biases and our incorrect thinking to see more clearly what we should do. We can be victims of false information especially in this digital age. And as a victim we cling to falsehoods as strongly as we would cling to a life preserver if we were thrown overboard. When we cling to falsehoods it is only a matter of time until life will teach us a lesson. That lesson often is accompanied with much suffering. It doesn’t have to be this way. Yet, this seems to be the path of humanity. We have to suffer in order to continue to grow. Is it time to do a self examination and ask oneself if one is clinging to false beliefs that will only lead to more personal suffering? If so, one has the chance to change before it is too late.

Critical Points to Ponder

  1. Suffering as Teacher – Why do we so often wait until pain breaks us before we open our eyes?
  2. Falsehoods as Life Preservers – Are we holding on to beliefs that keep us afloat or drag us under?
  3. The Digital Age Trap – How much of what we accept as truth is carefully curated misinformation?
  4. Cycles of Humanity – Must humanity always repeat mistakes to grow, or can we break the pattern?
  5. The Courage to Change – What false beliefs might you be clinging to that invite future suffering?

Flash Fiction: Betrayal on the Line: Johnny Polati’s Impossible Choice

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When loyalty meets leverage, even the toughest code of silence can crack.

Grab-Hold First Line

Johnny Polati always said he’d never rat, not for money, not for freedom, not for anything. But he never thought they’d come for his mother.

Flash Fiction Prompt

Johnny Polati lived by one rule: never rat out your friends. It wasn’t just a street code—it was his gospel, the one thing that kept him standing tall in a world of broken promises and backroom deals. But Agent Nina Grace knew his weak spot. Sliding the folder across the table, she spoke with icy precision: “Your mother’s passport will be revoked by morning. No Switzerland. No treatment. Unless you tell me what Mazanno’s moving next.”

The room seemed to shrink. Johnny could hear his pulse louder than her words. His mother—the one person who had never judged him, who had prayed for him while he made every wrong turn—now depended on him breaking the only rule he had left.

Outside, the city throbbed with neon indifference. Inside, Johnny felt the weight of two lives balanced on his silence. He wondered if loyalty was worth watching his mother die, or if betrayal was the only way to love her back.

❓ Reflection Questions

  1. What weighs more heavily—loyalty to a friend or love for a parent?
  2. Can betrayal ever be justified as an act of devotion?
  3. How would you end Johnny’s story—with silence, or with surrender?

Want to Live Longer? Spoiler: It’s Not Kale, It’s People (Ugh)

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Science says relationships beat kale for longevity. Bad news: people are messy, annoying, and impossible to put in a smoothie.

There is a strong relationship between healthy relationships and longevity. According to the Harvard Study of Adult Development (running for over 80 years, the longest study of its kind) found that the quality of relationships—not money, not fame—was the strongest predictor of both health and happiness in later life. People with supportive, close relationships lived longer and healthier lives. Here’s the issue for lots of people and there is no way around it. Relationships are messy. From time to time we irritate each other. We can grate on another’s nerves. We can be hurt by others. If you want to live a long life get used to getting messy. Get used to forgiving other people. Get used to living with stuff that makes you feel uncomfortable. And, get used to not always getting your way. Of course, you can go in the opposite direction, fall deeply in love with the person in the mirror and make that person the center of your universe. Problem with that is that your circle is only large enough for one ego.

😏 Snarky Points to Ponder

Next time your best friend irritates you, just whisper: “You’re literally adding years to my life.”

Think kale is the fountain of youth? Sorry, it’s Aunt Martha who chews too loudly at Thanksgiving.

Relationships mean forgiveness. Yes, even for the guy who still doesn’t use his turn signal.

Falling in love with the mirror? Cute, but your reflection won’t visit you in the hospital.

Relationships are messy, loud, and sometimes maddening—but apparently, so is living longer.

The Tarot Reader’s Darkest Card: Can She Change Fate?

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When the future is crystal clear, terror replaces mystery. What would you do if the cards spelled out a murder—and the victim was your dearest friend?

Grab-Hold First Line

The final card she flipped wasn’t meant for her client—it was meant for herself.

Flash Fiction Prompt (190 words)

Her hands trembled as she turned over the Death card, not unusual in her line of work. Clients often gasped, whispering of curses and doom. But this time, the vision wasn’t theirs. It was hers. The image sharpened into reality: her closest friend lying in a pool of blood, the sound of footsteps fading into the night. She had always seen the future with unnerving accuracy—lovers reunited, fortunes lost, babies born. But never had the cards betrayed her with something so personal.

The clock on the wall ticked louder, each second pulling her closer to the vision she couldn’t unsee. She knew the place. She knew the time. And yet, the question gnawed at her soul: does knowing the future mean you can change it, or does it mean you are chained to it?

She gathered her cards, her heart pounding like war drums. Tonight, destiny would deal its hand. But for the first time, she wasn’t sure if she was the reader—or the fool.

❓ Reflection Questions

  1. If you could see a tragedy before it struck, would you risk everything to stop it?
  2. Are the cards prophecy, or a mirror of hidden choices already made?
  3. In your story, does fate bend—or does it break those who resist it?

Row, Row, Row Your Life (Even If You Forgot the Oars)

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Life throws us in the river without a paddle—and somehow expects us to swim, laugh, and maybe not swallow too much water.

Sometimes life feels like a great river that we are tossed into when we’re born. We seem to have no control where it is carrying us. There are days when we struggle to stay afloat. There are other days when the river doesn’t seem to be moving and we gently float along. All the while not really knowing where our destiny will take us. All the while we travel not knowing where and how our journey will end. Not knowing who we will meet along our journey. Our river seems to contain many great mysteries. And as we carried along some of the mysteries will be made known to us and others will remain forever a mystery. Where are you on your life’s journey on your personal river? Trust the journey no matter what type of water you’re in. You’ll make it through. You will look back amazed at how you navigated it all.

Humorous Points to Ponder

  • If life is a river, why didn’t anyone hand out floaties at birth?
  • Rapids always appear right after you brag about smooth sailing.
  • Those “lazy river” days? Usually followed by a waterfall.
  • Meeting strangers along the way is fun—until one of them tips the canoe.
  • Paddling in circles is technically exercise, so give yourself credit.

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