Born in the Blue Ridge Mountains of West Virginia, J. Chris Lawrence spent much of his youth traveling and exploring the various cultural facets of American life. He currently lives in the Los Angeles area with his wife, two sons, and two cats. You can find more of Chris’s work online at jchrislawrence.com, or follow him on Twitter @JChrisLawrence and Facebook/JCLFiction.
I hate driving in snow, Margret thinks as she dumps a bag of ornaments onto the passenger seat of her car. She doesn’t even know why she does this. David’s been gone six years now, and their spoiled brat children… Continue Reading
— in memory of Antoinette Bolden — The Master didn’t play with Rocket as much as the dog preferred, but he knew he was loved. He was a good boy, after all. The Master said so. Every day, when The… Continue Reading
“You know,” said William, “I bought this axe years ago from that Mom ‘n Pop store down the road. Ran me about twenty bucks, but it’s eaten its fair share o’ wood, and it still holds an edge.” He flicked… Continue Reading
Ours was a curious love. He would come every day, spending his time working on what I heard him call his “Classic Chevy”; a gargantuan beast of rust and steel, he spoke to it like a female. And I was… Continue Reading
The red lights flashing through the windows reflect in my drink. The stories those shattered billboards tell are misleading relics of a dead time. It’s a shallow message, lost to the war that took my daughter, Sarah, and left of… Continue Reading