You know the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow story. A leprechaun named Fred, living in Iowa, taught my wife and me it’s true. Sort of. We were visiting our old haunts in Iowa City last March.… Continue Reading
Dust rose in stampedes, blocking her view of the oncoming car. She had a visitor. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she leaned on the rough wood fencing, one dirty boot up on the rail. Nobody had been out to… Continue Reading
The first time I threw a shoe at my shrink was right after he claimed I was “prone to fits of irrational behavior.” That was his opinion after a year of therapy. Considering his fee, I expected more than what… Continue Reading
Gold-flecked, hazel eyes locked with Dave’s and he felt like his blood had been replaced with liquid electricity. The man was sitting back in one of the massive, high-backed seats, one leg swung over an armrest. Dave heard the soft,… Continue Reading
His head hung low over the bar, bobbing like a turtle’s from its protective shell. He’d had too many shots of Wild Turkey, too little sleep. Through squinting eyes, he watched the barmaid. Tall, broad, and middle aged hard. But… Continue Reading
Becoming a hero is easy. It’s a magical process that takes place with — or more likely without — your consent and you go from a regular guy with a regular insurance job to someone who will save the world… Continue Reading
In the brothel, a tourist with a Newcastle accent asked if the beds had been curtained, or was everything done in public? Was voyeurism all part of the fun for the lusty residents of old Pompeii? Most of the visitors… Continue Reading
Gina knew trouble when she saw it: A black Lab mix nearly full grown and as unmanageable as her mop of blonde curls. But Lucifer was moments away from being put down at the pound where Gina volunteered. Against all… Continue Reading
Mom bequeathed me two things before she passed. First were keys to the Vermont Bed & Breakfast where I grew up. She managed the business with perfect elegance: polished woodwork, superbly manicured lawn, and spotless sidewalks every winter. At twenty-four… Continue Reading
When I got home from the quarry that night, Nanna had wandered off again. I could see the cottage from a ways down the path. She’d left the door open. It started before Christmas, her forgetting stuff, but she could… Continue Reading