What You Think You Know—Short Fiction #9
He didn’t see the dog until it was too late. The shaggy beige stray darted across the highway right in front of his car. He felt, rather than heard, a sickening pop, and saw the small body rebound off the
Everywhere I Go—Short Fiction #8
Everywhere I go, I see them. I can’t get away from them. Last night when I was bathing Mama in her tub, she said Go close the curtains, son, I’m in my altogether. So I went to the bathroom window
The Wrong Man—Flash Fiction #7
Rain sputtered like grease on asphalt still hot from the July Texas day. The black ribbon with the double-yellow line wound out, a miasma of blinks and blurs from the downpour. It was five till midnight. He drove, the wipers
Elsie-Bellsie—Flash Fiction #6
That thump again, in the hall. Like something thudding against the other side of her door. “Elsie?” I call. No answer, of course. Just another drum beat against the wood, like marking time for a dirge I can’t hear. “Elsie-Bellsie?”
Sell Phone—Flash Fiction #5
It’s fuckin cold out here. I can feel every hair on my arms prickin up like a goddam dog’s ears when he hears the kibble bag. That buzzin fuckin streetlight over there is pissin me off. Stupid orange glow from
The Best Fall Ever—Flash Fiction #4
After my heart attack last year—the doc called it ventricular fibrillation, a fancy name for a reliable old muscle moving to the bad side of the tracks—Barbara wanted the two of us to get in better shape. I saw it
The Gift – Flash Fiction #3
He cut the ribbons with the precision of a surgeon. They had to be perfect. They must be perfect. If even one ribbon was out of place, she would be unhappy with him. He cut the wide strip its length,
“Cutting Corners” — Flash Fiction #2
I’ve got corners in my throat. I don’t know how else to describe it. Like an empty room, the empty room in an old house, the people long gone, dust-balls swirling around in the drafts coming in around windows shrunken
“Trappings” — Flash Fiction #1
I’ma take off my jeans. No, now, don’t go a-fussin’—it’s for your own good. You see, these here jeans, I don’t know where they been. They come a-strollin’ in four-oh-six in the ay em this mornin’, all smug as you
Russia Houses and Dragon Tattoos
When I was a lad, and throughout my life, I have devoured the greats of mystery/suspense/espionage: Ludlum, Clancy (of course), Robert B. Parker, Sue Grafton, Elmore Leonard, Hammett, Chandler, many others. And more recently, Patricia Cornwell, Kathy Reichs, and Tami
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