The rosary, if counted a certain way, shows much about the hands and character of the man who counts them. The beads themselves may point the way to deeds that are unspeakable to a man of the cloth. A symbol is a matter of time locked in a moment and open to interpretation. It is a sign of what is to occur in a latitude that Continue reading Ice In The Veins by Richard Godwin
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.”
Lord Wilton – Wiltie to his many friends, though whether they are fair-weather or not is up for discussion, but not perhaps during this story – lifts his head and looks at his tormentor. He cannot see very well, as one of his eyes is fully closed and blood runs from a wound at his scalp into the other. His face is a mess, and the blood has dripped onto his smart evening wear, Continue reading Whiff of Poe by Katy O’Dowd
Back in 1979 I lived in Bridgeport, Connecticut and worked the second shift, 3-11 in Norwalk, Connecticut. I took the train everyday to and from work. It took me approximately 20 minutes to walk from the East Norwalk station to work and 20 minutes from the Bridgeport station to home.
One night on my way home from the Bridgeport station two guys walked up to me and asked for some change. As I reached into my pocket one of the guys steps behind me, gets on all fours and Continue reading I Let A Man Live by Dan Tracy