Flash Fiction: Bootleg

It was late and the waning moon was high in the clouds as the Hearse rolled into town. The truck’s headlights sliced through the fog. Thomas wiped his brow with the red pocket square plucked from his suit jacket. He was close. It was just then that a man strode down the center of theContinue reading “Flash Fiction: Bootleg”

Flash Fiction Friday: Running Away

Rick didn’t start panicking until he was 40 miles away from Flagstaff. He was now 20 minutes late for work and driving 80 miles per hour in the opposite direction. He intended to go to into the office as usual, but the moment he got behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition;Continue reading “Flash Fiction Friday: Running Away”

Flash Fiction Friday: Laundromat

Everybody comes to do laundry at the end of the week. Mostly women, often with children running up and down the rows of thrumming machines. They read paperback romances or poke at smartphones while the clothes spin. They come six or seven or eight loads at a time. One or two young men sit awkwardly,Continue reading “Flash Fiction Friday: Laundromat”

A Writer’s Identity

What makes me a writer? Is it the physical act of my fingertips hitting the keys in new combinations? Is it my pathological desire to collect and disseminate stories? Is it my tendency to stretch the truth in order to make it funnier or more dramatic? Is it the fact that I agonize over everyContinue reading “A Writer’s Identity”

Flash Fiction Friday: Out of Body Experience

The following character sketch was gleaned from graphite-smudged pages of my trusty old Moleskine: A young man is bent over a small, black notebook, writing quickly with a black pencil that has a black eraser. His black dress shirt has seen better days as evidenced by the white thread showing at the cuffs and collar.Continue reading “Flash Fiction Friday: Out of Body Experience”