Christmas came and went. The weather got warmer and the snow melted off the front lawn, and some folks were even walking around wearing shorts. But still, the Patton family kept their Nativity scene up. January, February, March… and the little manger made of cast-off lumber remained, even though the straw had turned brown and the plastic animals toppled over.
“Yo,” I yelled to Vinnie. I didn’t think he could hear me with his head under water, so I pulled him up by his arms back into the boat. His perfect New York oily hair smeared with salt water and all the bloody chum I’d been dumping into the water since we cast off from Port St. Lucy. “I’ll say it again in case you couldn’t hear me, so get the saltwater out of your ears. What was it the Skipper called you back in the old crew?”
Denise never expected to find herself covered in camouflage holding her breath underwater in swamp water, but that’s exactly where she was. “Like, gross!” she says as she re-emerges from the muck and realizes her contact lenses are covered with swamp mud. She pulls herself out of the water and lies on her back trying to figure out how it is that she got herself in this Continue reading General Slaughter’s, Like, Revenge or Something by Melanie Browne
There was something magical about travelling through summer’s dusk.
She sat in companionable silence with him, enjoying his company. He had already started in on the bottle of gin and she knew that soon he would weep. But for now it was good. She felt none of the usual anticipation she usually had before a kill, and wasn’t sure why.
“She’s out,” Brookes said breathlessly as he ran into O’Malley’s bar that afternoon.
There was a storm building inside Ray’s skull. Waiting to break. And it was all because Ray hadn’t seen her for over a week now. Twenty-seven days and seventeen hours, to be precise. And he was starting to wonder if he’d imagined her. Created some kind of wish fulfilment figure. His stomach cramped.
“Dan, Dan, you uptight man, how does your garden grow? With no room for mushrooms, marijuana or peyote does your garden know it’s supposed to grow? Dan, every once and a while you just have to go to the john and smoke a joint. You strike me as the kind of guy who’s born with a tie on.”
When I got the call that Ray was dead, I was watching TV with my girlfriend of two years, Nicola. I hadn’t spoken to Ray in seven. Nicola had never heard of him.
“So the funeral’s tomorrow,” she said.
“Yeah.” I was still in shock.