Hello everyone! As part of Short Story Saturday, I have posted another short story, this one entitled Why You Never Celebrate in a Weird Bar. Please enjoy.
Waking up after a bender is never a fun thing but you can get used to anything if it’s done long enough. After a while, dealing with dry mouth and nausea became as part of the morning routine as wiping the crud out of your eyes. At least, that’s my excuse as to why I never bothered giving up staying up late drinking at random dive bars, but my latest experience and this sudden pain in my chest is beginning to change my mind. To think, it all happened this morning. Allow me to explain. Continue reading Short Story Saturday: Why You Never Celebrate in a Weird Bar
Hello everyone! As part of Short Story Saturday, I have posted another short story, this one entitled Christmas Eve in Utqiagvik.Please enjoy.
I’m sure most diners get out of town visitors all the time. Sure, I mean, I’m sure every eatery has their regulars but a stranger coming into the diner would hardly be a momentous occasion for most. The visitor would have to be quite the character to leave an impression. However, when you live in my neck of the woods, or should I say tundra, all you have are regulars so a visitor definitely leaves an impression. I will say, though, it is doubtful that anybody would forget the man who came in a few nights ago.
Hello everyone! As part of Short Story Saturday, I have posted another short story, this one entitled Non Morieris in Somnis Memorias. Please enjoy.
I’m walking through immaculate streets. Once vibrant and full of life, now sterile. The leaves blowing in the wind in front of me are its only occupants.
The ticks of a large clock tower in the center of town reverberate against my brain with each passing step, acting as a reminder of the inexorable nature of time. It can be seen and heard everywhere in this town. Its presence is inescapable.
I am exhausted. Not physically, mentally. Physical fatigue is impossible here.
Hello everyone! As part of Short Story Saturday, I have posted another short story, this one entitled Consumed With Guilt. Please enjoy.
I never wanted to be a criminal. Oh mama, what would you think of your baby boy now? A cop car is parked outside my home right now. He’s been out there for nearly an hour. He’s waiting for me. He wants to give me a chance to confess. I will, but only after writing down my thoughts so I don’t get flustered when I make my statement in court. Public speaking makes me so nervous.
If only I hadn’t lost my temper. If only I hadn’t done that terrible thing to that poor girl. She may have been rude to me. She may have ignored me. She may have taken something from me. But she didn’t deserve that. Nobody deserves what I did to her.
It was not a family reunion that should have ever happened. It defied the laws of God? Nature? Life itself? To think it none of this would have ever happened had I not been so covetous for fame. Such is the price to learn a lesson in humility.
I’m an author of very little renown, likely I’m nobody you’ve ever heard of but you may be familiar with my grandfather. If you’re a fan of his works you’ll know who I mean. I think about him daily.
Hello everyone! As part of Short Story Saturday, I have posted another short story, this one entitled An Amusing Tale of Scriptwriting. It‘s quite a bit less sad than last week’s story but hopefully just as enjoyable. Original writing prompt taken from https://www.writersdigest.com/prompts/one-shot
The click of the pistol’s hammer woke me. A velvety voice lilts out of my vision, “Give me a good catchphrase and I just may let you live.”
Hello everyone! Introducing for the first time a new feature on my blog called Short Story Saturday! Every Saturday I will be posting a short story for your perusal. While some may be connected to other stories, they are going to be, for the most part, one-offs. I hope you enjoy them. The first one is entitled A True Friend.
I gradually awake from my unconscious slumber. I’m lying on my side on the cold, damp muddied dirt on this foreboding night struggling to breathe. My chest heaves up and down deliberately as I take deep, measured pants of the air, each gasp sending shockwaves of pain in my chest as if tiny little knives were stabbing my ribs. An oppressive cold seizes my shivering body. The trees that surround me with their limb like branches that extend towards the heavens like giant, arboreal fingers shield even the most basic illumination making visibility an issue.