Short Fiction
GOODBYE DICK His birthday gift to her, a set of full tang stainless steel kitchen knives, lay strewn about on the counter. He lay on the floor, his penis in her left hand. A peculiar thing, she thought. It can grow and squirm like such an altogether separate entity of the body. Its ability to …
The analogy I used to describe their difference in size was that of a titan to a pixie. Gathered around a table full of half-empty pitchers of beer and baskets of cheese fries, we’d joke about scenes of his cock splitting her in half; a massive elephant trunk punch to her reproductive system. I imagined …
On September 10, 2001 I was a virgin. (I am not intending to use that date as an emotional trigger, rather as a significant date in my life – at the time more of a stumbling, late morning saunter through the leering eyes of womanhood - inasmuch as a precursory date to a much greater …
I kept a pet-name for Kendall Falling in my mind; The Wide-Eyed Girl. Eyes that glistened and bounced around like pinballs; bold and brown. Those eyes searched over the cityscape and all therein; the passing motor cars and trucks, the glass and mortar towers, the walks and don’t walks, the hosed-over early morning sidewalks, the …
The past few days I’ve sat by the entrance to the ferry station on the Bay of San Juan. I like to catch the tourists retreating back to their hotels. They’ve seen the rum factory and that is enough for them. The barred-windows and flaking stucco walls make them afraid of what lurks inside. That’s …
She loved him. That’s why she left me. They had known each other before me. In a time in their lives when she was ready and he was not. I came along later. After what moments of fumbling lust and displaced emotions had expired, she escaped me and waited for him. He had been terminated …
The inside of the pickup cooks in the late afternoon sun. The dark maroon cloth and vinyl of the interior absorbs the rays as she sits on the passenger side of the bench seat and waits for her man. Dust and cigarette ash lingers like a dry fog and makes her cough. She doesn’t know …
Two co-workers sit at a bar top and stare up toward flat screen sports highlights. An act that is repeated in millions of dim-lighted, slick-topped bars where patrons play dj and the bartenders’ feet scurry from till to tap to bottle neck. All-the-while conversations are had for no reason and every reason, smiles are wrung …
Where rests the extinct Moorestown Locomotive Company - a weeded-over and corrupt brick campus of late 19th century design, inactive since its last use as a rubber stamp factory in the early 1960’s - locals say that if you go to Morgan’s Hill just over-looking the old grounds and now defunct railway leading from the …
At the age of 17, I ran naked through an empty baseball diamond with a Dark Eyes vodka-soaked tampon up my ass and two morphine sulfate pills in my blood. I am not telling you this to shock you; undoubtedly as a modern media consumer you’ve seen and read far more shocking moments than mine. …
