The old man lived in a big green house on a shady green street in a nice green neighborhood. Dave was shown through the house to the backyard, Dave lugging the heavy duffle with its strap digging into his shoulder.… Continue Reading
District of Columbia Chief Detective Comagee trudged into his temporary NYC office on January 6th. Little Christmas to some. There was one last stocking stuffer for him to unwrap to close out the holiday season. A fresh case waiting for… Continue Reading
Under a cloudless, moonless November sky, a little white Vauxhall bounced down the road, its nervous, inexpert driver grinding gears. Eamon, a round-shouldered giant who looked better suited to the University than the Provisional IRA, squashed into the backseat, stared… Continue Reading
Walking in, I wing my arms and strum the strings that line the walls. Dan’s racked his guitars by resonance, tinny to golden. Discordant yet beautiful, jangles the hum, like a gateway to limbo. I’ve suggested he tune them to… Continue Reading
The ticking clock accented the deep snores from beside her. She listened intently, making sure his breathing was deep and natural. Minutes passed. Then an hour. Then two. She worried he was faking it, that he could feel how frantically… Continue Reading
The drizzly rain hung in the air like a fine mist, dampening the already wet muddy ground. McArthur stood in the field in his mud splattered boots and weatherproof outer layers, inspecting his crops. He reached out and touched the… Continue Reading
Late to work, scrambling school runs, an urgent dentist appointment — every red light seems to burn longer than the last. But now, approaching a destination I don’t want to reach, the streets glow green. I miss the turning twice,… Continue Reading
The police detective opened the car door and stepped firmly into the puddle. He trotted out of the puddle into a singularly damp snowdrift. Cursing, he slogged onto the path where he waited for the sergeant to walk around. The… Continue Reading
No, I don’t want a cigarette. *** Everything was going according to plan. I met my contact in a dingy bar in the bowels of a low-class brothel. A cesspool of thieves and perverts looking to ply their sick fantasies… Continue Reading
“You know this isn’t a real holiday, right?” Klepto Bayley Klepac asked. “I know it’s not a real holiday,” I said, “But I like to celebrate it, so I do.” Bayley gave me a confused look, paid her breakfast check,… Continue Reading