Category Archives: Writing

He sat alone in the tiny, rustic one-room cabin near the crest of the mountain, looking out toward the higher snow-capped peaks across the valley below. It won’t be long, he thought, until winter takes hold. Had there been a pane of glass in the … Continue reading →

Virginia O’Malley got in line to buy a copy of the band’s latest album, A Christmas Musical Lexicon. The band’s concert was scheduled to begin just two hours later, but that left plenty of time to get the album and find her … Continue reading →

My violent end could have been predicted, and very probably was, by my first grade teacher, Regina Scoop.  She could have told you, and I suspect she did, that I was destined, first, to infect the school and, then, the entire … Continue reading →

Stella wasn’t a light sleeper, but Kitchener worried that the sound of jangling keys might stir his wife from her sleep. He took care to minimize noise as he fumbled for his wallet and his keys in the dark. When he was … Continue reading →

Liam felt the blade of the knife rip into his left shoulder. The experience was not what he expected, if in fact he ever expected to be stabbed. There was no pain, just the sensation that his skin, and then … Continue reading →

Micah Blaine’s childhood in Lafayette, Louisiana was typical of Acadiana, at least it was typical of Acadiana of the last quarter of the twentieth century.  By the time he was born in 1972, Cajun French was not as widely spoken … Continue reading →

Pauling and Donaway were grilling trout from the morning’s catch over a driftwood campfire, filling the air with the sweet scent of salt and smoke and charred fish. The sun slipped low in the sky. With the last fish off the grill, Pauling … Continue reading →

The quality of his penmanship had declined since grade school. By the time he started keeping a journal, the only way he could assure himself he could read what he had written was to print his words in a slow, … Continue reading →

July third started like most days in Laredo. The sun crept slowly over the horizon, turning hot darkness into brutal, heat-drenched daylight. Estella Garcia woke, steeped in sweat, just as the pink gauze of heat began to fill the sky. Her son, Ernesto, liked to … Continue reading →

For ten miles, ice filled tire ruts in the road, making it damn near impossible for me to stay on the highway. When I reached a town, I pulled into the gravel lot of a post office to escape the sleet and freezing … Continue reading →

Quinn’s son, Garret, and daughter-in-law, Lynda, stood beside him at the counter. Garret said “Dad, let me pay for breakfast,” but Quinn, always the patriarch, responded with “Not this time.” Sharon, Quinn’s wife, gave Quinn an exasperated stare; she wished he … Continue reading →

He swallowed the mouthful of god-knows-what, the food intended to cover the razor blade and dull the pain as it sliced its way through my throat and into his esophagus. It did its job. He paid more attention to the flavors of … Continue reading →

The Greyhound bus slowed and the driver coasted toward the intersection.  Finally the diesel-belching beast came to a halt. The driver, a guy I’d swear must have been pushing eighty, pressed a button and the door swung open with a loud … Continue reading →