Mike wondered if Coach Phillips was just jerking him around. “You want me to pick a team?” Coach Phillips scratched his sizable gut. “That’s right, Zoner. You and Abrams. First in the alphabet and last.” Mike fingered the Star Trek… Continue Reading
PLIFF-pliff-pliff-pliff. PLIFF-pliff-pliff-pliff. LAP-twen-ty-one. SEE-the-boy-run. Yeah, me, Grant Matthews, Olympian. Never felt faster. Is it really the suit? Can ‘optimal thermoregulation’ make that much difference to a runner? DeSelbySuits sure wanted us to believe it, before the ‘fusion’ accidents. The apogee… Continue Reading
Al Whitaker thought he handled last night’s catastrophes pretty well. He only punched his office wall. It hurt like bloody hell when he broke his hand, but he didn’t need his hand to do this job. He needed Boyd Salazar… Continue Reading
Anyone who tells you blood tastes delicious is a liar. In fact, I can almost guarantee that they are telling you that to sound tough. The truth isn’t nearly as glamorous. Blood tastes like dirt and metal. I hate it,… Continue Reading
He remembers going to bed, tired after a long day of training, and he remembers noises in the night, the rush of cool air over his bared body, but he doesn’t recall how he got here; wherever here may be.… Continue Reading
The bell rang, and Petey stood up, knocking back the stool with his calves. “This is the fifth,” he thought. “Gotta watch for that left.” He flipped his forehead to the left to flick off the sweat, and banged his… Continue Reading
Lisa drummed calm fingers on the soccer ball, blue eyes narrowed as she followed the players on the field. The orange team was in control now. Movement shifted to the left. Lisa tensed her legs, ready to run. The white… Continue Reading
“It’s seven-forty,” she announces, with a tone that reminds me why I don’t cook her breakfast anymore. “Will you please wake up and listen to me?” I roll on my good shoulder and look into the bathroom. No eye contact… Continue Reading