Short Story
-
The Dreamers of Fortune Street
Is it me causing all the ruckuses? Is it me blowing down all the brick walls? I went to the Centrifugal Theatre downtown because I wanted to watch a movie that made me spin. Halfway through the picture, an old black and white, the usher came up to me in his red uniform and monkey… Continue reading
-
The Liquid Lust of an Ordinary Day (2)
Sirens started to wail. Lights began to flash. Deep echoing booms rolled like waves throughout the facility as the inmates pounded like animals… Continue reading
-
Strawberry Safari
“This won’t be on you. I’ll take full responsibility. I’ve already written my family a certified letter stating that I may do something crazy in Africa, but it’s no one’s fault but my own.” Continue reading
-
This Ludicrous Life
The electric teeth motorcar humming on a vibe vine in West Hollywoodland and the nails of Dracula scratch at the sides of a red streetcar while people are trying to read. Continue reading
-
The Gravy Canoe of Wild Wyoming – 11
The Gould house smelled like Sunday dinner and the trappings of commercialized religion. Continue reading
-
Ms. Grundy and the Bone Ghosts (4)
Allison Grundy stood in her front yard behind the safety of a white-picket fence and a grouchy demeanor. She had binoculars set against her sour face and she was watching the chorus of children playing out in the street and the neighboring yards. The song of stimulating play played up and down the roadway. “Damn,… Continue reading
-
The Cowmen (Two)
The town’s name was Sudan and there was a smell of animal dung and sawdust and perfumed whores in the hot afternoon air. Continue reading
-
The Celestial Salad Bar (One)
The man in the red jacket pressed the button. The next thing he knew, he was standing at a salad bar built into an old western wagon. Continue reading
-
The Morbid Mind Correctional Facility (2)
The man plopped down into a soft sofa of sand. The waves out there before him were at medium. They churned and rolled and fell, the water a dark gray with whipped cream foam on the edges. Continue reading
-
The Liquid Lust of an Ordinary Day (1)
Rose stopped and turned to look back at him. He wasn’t bad, she thought. He was maybe about 20 years younger, dark hair, a warm Latino sheen, soft eyes the color of newly born mud after a warm rain in the desert. Continue reading
cereal after sex 