I parked my car three blocks away on Fern under a street light. My OCD kicked in and I rechecked the glove box and under the center armrest. Both were still empty because I cleared them out two hours ago. Sometimes you have to proof even your own work. I felt under the rear wheel well and the tracker was nice and secure. Continue reading A Mister and his Destiny by Bobby D. Lux
They would lay in wait outside of the shops at the mall in the afternoons. I would catch threatening glimpses of their vivid orange robes as they lingered in shady doorways, waiting for an opportunity to lure me away. I was already on their radar and I’m not sure how I got there. Maybe it was something to do with the weird phone calls; disembodied voices would ask for me using my name, Frank, and then refuse to speak. It felt as though they were trying to bait me, waiting for me to reveal myself to them, through my fear. Continue reading Paranoid by Sonia Kilvington
I was cold to the bone from the winter chill, and then there was that woman . . . her shotgun pointed at me throughout the drive. How she could travel along the snowy road just fine and hold her double barrel one-handed like so, with her other hand firmly on the wheel, I’d never know. Her little sister used to say she was skilled with a gun. I had no idea.
I fear the dawn. The night and its soothing darkness are my cocoon. They protect me from an unknown danger. But when the crepuscular insects and I rise with the savage light of dawn, my fragile heart begins to pound. Thump! Thump! Thump! The pounding gets louder and faster. Soon, my hands tremble and my shattered soul case-my mortal shell of flesh-shakes uncontrollably. I fear I will die! I pop a couple pills to calm my nerves. I black out. Continue reading I FEAR THE DAWN by Dr. Mel Waldman
One of the best pieces of advice that anyone gave me at that time, came from a Moldovan hooker. Continue reading TATTOOED EYEBROWS by Richard Godwin.
Pancho killed the bulls with flair. Continue reading The Matador by Catfish McDaris
“I want them gone. That’s the only way you’ll get her back.” Continue reading Three For One by Sean O’Grady
LeRoi always got pissed if you called him LEE-roy like some of the homeys do. “It’s Le-ROI,” he’d shout like you were deaf. “You talkin to the king!” Continue reading Once and Future King of the Projects by Walter Giersbach
The light from the full moon guided her way as Sister Lara walked down Roseberry Hill using her father’s rifle as a walking stick. Lara’s Day-Glo Dr Martin boots gripped the slippery, muddy surface. Her nun’s habit flapped in the night wind like a bat’s wings. Continue reading Nun With A Gun by Paul D. Brazill
It was two and one quarter hours into Hawaiian Shirt Day when it became clear that Margaret needed to die.