Flash Fiction


Litbits was a wonderful e-zine for flash fiction. Unfortunately the zine is now closed and the website called “Litbits” has totally different content, which includes ads for Viagra.  It happens unfortunately; small-minded little pirates take over other peoples domain names and do nasty things to them.  My original domain was taken – so far nothing has been done to the site, but in time … who knows.

I had one story published on LitBits.  As you can no longer read it on the original site, I am posting it on this site.  (Click on the title above to go to the story)

Gay Flash Fiction

I am co-founder and webmaster of the e-zine GAY FLASH FICTION.  I also founded the Yahoo group of Gay Flash Fiction.


  • Five Minutes a Day
  • Family History
  • Pizza Supreme
  • I Keep Losin’ Me Rake
  • The Prodigal Son
  • Falling
  • Darkness
  • Love and Money
  • Hot



  • (c) Eirene Hogan 11 Nov 2001
  • Updated 24.6.06 (c) Alex Hogan

Originally published in Litbits online zine for flash fiction.

Night. The end of the Spring Cup Festival, in the Park, boy and girl, man and woman, pair off – like an ancient harvest festival – to celebrate the mating of the Goddess and the young god of fertility.

Tom was there, drinking the young vintage wine, and joining in the laughter with old school friends and young new friends, trying to find a nubile lover to take for the ritual, one with painted pink lips and long hair flowing over soft rounded breasts.

But there were none. For every beautiful woman he saw on the night, there was not one he really wanted to take home and undress.

He sighed. Oh well, the night had been enjoyable, laughing with old friends, drinking in the young spring air. As the night aged he was ready to end it quietly. Yawning and slightly tipsy, he made his way out of park. Then he saw him—Michael.

He was standing by the park gates, in the edge of the shadows, waiting, hands in pockets, leaning casually against the post, watching. How long had he been there? This wasn’t the place for him, this spring Dionysian festival.

Tom watched other festival-goers walk past. Beautiful people in their beautiful clothes under the beautiful night sky. He could smell the perfume of blossoms in the soft, slightly warm air. He hesitated – should he follow the crowd of men and women into the fertile night? Michael shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The lights from inside the park lit up his lean body, and glinted off his fair hair – but the shadows swallowed him again as he resettled next to the post. The couples streamed past Tom, and the women, alone, without partners, clothed in their tight erotic dresses.

Tom walked up to the shadows. He stood close to the other man. Their faces were at the same level, his green eyes looking into the brown. Hands in pockets, both of them, they simply watched each other.

“Come on Tom,” a feminine voice rang out from the outer, “come to our place for a night-cap.” Tom turned to look at the call; several faces beckoned him, young women, with their sparkling tinkle of high voices. But he didn’t respond, and the voices moved on.

Tom caught the faint smell of fresh clean skin. He looked back at the man in front of him; the Park lights outlined the fine chiselled features of his face. Michael gave a faint, tantalizing smile; the promise of forbidden fruit. Tom stepped closer, their trousered legs faintly touched – he slipped his arm around Michael’s waist.



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