Category Archives: Short Fiction

The paint on the metal railing is peeling. I look past it, over the revolving-bed hotels, by-the-week tenements, abandoned shipping terminals, to the sea. Calm today, the gray water fades into a hazy, blurred horizon, signaling an overcast morning marked by the unbearable heat … Continue reading →

The street crowd clapped their hands and stomped their feet as a man in a gray hoodie threw a jab a right cross an uppercut a hook at a non-existent opponent. A passing patrolman judged the man and the crowd … Continue reading →

I start to hum. A black tale of love found and love lost. Slow. Like a funeral dirge. The inmates in adjacent cells join in. Voices up and down the line add words and volume to the monotonous murmur. Guards … Continue reading →

Cutthroat men are slashing bitter boys are smashing their way through the city. Victims of their hatred mortals, objects sacred destroyed without pity. Is faith validation for human damnation and slaughter of the past? Is fostered cruelty behind brutality and … Continue reading →

(I’m not very good at writing about myself, so I thought I’d tell the story of Bob and why Bob is Bob.) I am from the middle. I’ve always been in the middle. Like my name Bob. B on each end … Continue reading →

The radiant rays of a reticent sun resolutely remain reclused behind a resplendent rose-colored cloud. They refuse to reappear as requested by the resounding roar of ritualistic revivalists who seek to recruit the reluctant rural residents with their reinvigorated regimen … Continue reading →