Fishing lures attract more fishermen than they do fish. Tackle shops sell lures in every color from “Fire Tiger” to “Nuclear Watermelon.” It’s nonsense — you don’t need that stuff to catch fish. You can use the bowl of an… Continue Reading
She’d rather it was a tumor. Rachel drove her hands deep into the cool meat. When she squeezed her hands tight, she felt the soft thickness work through and surround her fingers. She set one hand free and cracked an… Continue Reading
Alb and I always call in for a pint after work on a Friday, our ritual to celebrate another week’s work. I mean nobody likes a dead end job in insurance sales but times are hard and money’s tight. I… Continue Reading
The view from the seventh floor is impressive. Tiny ants crawl over each other heading home from work, picking up their kids at daycare, or meeting spouses for dinner, no doubt. So average and mundane they are — so ordinary.… Continue Reading
I was dead. Lying on the floor thinking: why me? It seemed so unfair. There were so many things I wanted to do with my life. It was too late now. There was no one to give me the kiss… Continue Reading
He still has the taste of champagne in his mouth, this taste of apples cut with a rusty knife. His fingers are numb as they curl around the steering wheel, the smooth plastic steadying the slight tremor in his hands… Continue Reading
I swallowed the key to the door of your bedroom. It was the one you had given me years ago, slender and toothy and that rattled in the creaking brass lock whenever I slipped it in. When I looked in… Continue Reading
I sat completely still on the couch, a statue, my hand holding the winning lottery ticket. The machine had selected seven random numbers and rewarded my indecision with a new life. My wife Shannon came out of the bedroom and… Continue Reading
It was quite strange watching the blossom of blood on Mike’s shirt gathering up its petals and disappearing back down the small black hole. His knees rose from the ground dragging his body with them. His arms waving wildly, his… Continue Reading
In the early 1950s all sorts of salesmen came to the door during the day. Mrs. Patterson’s habit was to personally entertain as many as she could manage. It was said in the neighborhood that the Fuller Brush man had… Continue Reading