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Showing posts from September, 2021

A man tries to connect unrelated stories through a ridiculous theory

     Gilbert rolled a half smoked Lucky Strike between his index finger and thumb while he stared at the corkboard that he had thumbtacked up the previous night. The whole room smelled like tobacco, old paper, and that funky odor that stink bugs give-off in self defense or when you smash one. During the fall months of New England, you find that stink bugs crawl up the corner boards of homes and nest in the attic until spring, and that’s just where Gilbert had set up.         Gil brought the cigarette to his chapped lips and took a deep pull, “This just doesn’t make any sense,” he said, exhaling the smoke which floated to the rafters where cobwebs lazily hung. “Make sense to you?”        Next to Gilbert, tied to a chair, was Lance. About fifteen hours ago, Lance was an Amazon Prime delivery driver. Gil had more-or-less kidnapped Lance and proclaimed he was his research assistant now.         “Lance?” Gil...
     Under a full southern Kentucky moon, off the banks of the Cumberland River and among the soybean fields, a creaking two-tone peppermint Volkswagen bus rolled to a halt. The stirring dust settled around the vehicle and the headlights flicked off. The side door swung open and the gang filed out.        First out of the van was Chet, the sort-of-leader of the group. He had dropped out of school three summers ago to work at the bowling alley in town on account of high-school being for squares. His twentieth birthday was next week, but he still hung out with a bunch of sophomores and freshmen, and they hung out with him because he bought them cigarettes and gave them rides.        Behind him, Alice hopped out. She had just turned 15 and told her parents a white lie that she was going to an after school function. Mom and dad, who were quite keen on the idea of being alone, insisted that if she go, she ought to bring her kid brother S...

Outlaw

     I reckon things were liable to get hairy, so I made sure to pack a spare six-gun inside my duster with a speed loader loose in my breast pocket. No one would raise an eye at the pistol on my hip, but the teller might not take kindly to the cocked long gun I had tucked in my waistband running down my pants leg. If I didn’t have to use it, they’d never know it was there, and I had no intention of using it. Bank robbin’ has been a risky business ever since it was a business, but I was outstanding in my field and took precaution. Last dent I pulled, I made sure to get real friendly with the deputy. He was sleeping like a baby with a bottle in his mouth by the afternoon. The sheriff was out breaking up some cattle rustlers in the badlands, so ain’t nobody round to say I couldn’t rob the place.        From Flagstaff, to Prescott, to Phoenix, to Tucson, and now all the way down to the southern Arizonan town of Tubac, I had stuck up every bank that was wo...

Gymbro Flash-Fiction

     Ronnie was killing it, he’d been curling in the squat rack for a good hour but admittedly, he was losing steam. Ever since he read an article in a Men’s Health magazine about the benefits of using dumbbells, he had almost entirely ditched the barbells at the gym. Reading was not really Ronnie’s forte, so most of the words didn’t make any sense to him, but he understood the gist of the article.    A guide on utilizing your stabilizer muscles.        His old routine was almost exclusively curling the Smith machine’s barbell. Since ditching the mechanically assisted machine and adopting free weights, Ronnie had to learn to employ proper form. He went from curling forty-five pound to a measly twenty-five pounds, but it was an honest twenty-five pounds, and he could feel the gains flexing in his biceps.        “Eight,” Ronnie said, breathlessly curling the cast iron weights until they were tucked under his chin. He pause...

Gymbro, UNFINISHED

     Ronnie was killing it, he’d been curling in the squat rack for a good hour but admittedly, he was losing steam. Ever since he read an article in a Men’s Health magazine about the benefits of using dumbbells, he had almost entirely ditched the barbells at the gym. Reading was not really Ronnie’s forte, he was a gamer, so most of the words didn’t make any sense to him, but he understood the gist of the article.    A guide on utilizing your stabilizer muscles.        His old routine was almost exclusively curling the Smith machine’s barbell. Since ditching the mechanically assisted machine and adopting free weights, Ronnie had to learn to employ proper form. He went from curling forty-five pound to a measly twenty-five pounds, but it was an honest twenty-five pounds, and he could feel the gains flexing in his biceps.        “Eight,” Ronnie said, breathlessly curling the cast iron weights until they were tucked under his ...

Like Father, Like Son

     Edwin Dutton was soon to be enjoying his favorite meal from his favorite fast-food restaurant, and god willing, it would be the last time. He ordered a triple patty Bacon Blitzer with a large order of curly fries and a large chocolate shake from the Dallas based burger-joint Tony Tolbert’s, the one place you can always go to ... Get a sack!      “Thank you, have a nice day, sir,” a young woman said with a soft southern draw as she handed Edwin a sack of grub.      “Yup,” Edwin quickly replied. His paw snatched the warm food, and his car was rolling away before his arm was back inside. Not one to risk stuffing himself while he drove, Edwin rode the throttle of his car into a parking spot straight ahead of the drive-through lane and shifted into park. He left the motor running with the air conditioner on full blast, but the window remained cracked for fresh air, of course.      Edwin Dutton fished a few of the golden...

Gun Pointed

       Having a cocked and loaded pistol pointed at Chuck’s chest didn’t quite feel the way he thought it would. All of the scenarios that he ran through his head while sudsing up in his evening showers involved a slightly more heroic Chuck.      For starters, it would likely happen in front of his girlfriend, and Chuck would be defending her honor. This robbery that played through his head would also take place somewhere in public, maybe somewhere busy too. Like in front of the Prudential Center where there would be a hundred sets of wide eyes, all watching with bated breath. Chuck would be calculated.       When the greasy pearl snatcher drew the weapon and took aim at Chuck and Tiffany, Chuck would command the attention of the robber and warned not to point the gun at Tiff again. A tense stand-off would ensue, like two steely prize-fighters with locking glares at a weigh-in. Who would crack first and look away? Headlights from ca...