Category: Fiction
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The Jacktown Trail, Chapter 4
FOUR: A nasty reminder Tritt had been uncomfortable about discussing any matters of future plans in public for good reason. There were many unsavory ears about in these rough pike towns, and you didn’t know who might be passing through looking for some unwholesome opportunity. One couldn’t be too careful about who he was and…
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The Jacktown Trail, Chapter 3
Tritt went across Jacksontown’s Main Street, the National Road, to a clapboard building that resembled a large shack that might soon tumble down. The only thing that identified it as a restaurant was a hand-written sign in a dirty window that read “EAT.” He sat down at a rough-sawn table.
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The Jacktown Trail, Chapter 2
The stagecoach slowly rolled into Jacksontown, causing a quite a crowd to gather as it did so, what with four dead bodies plain to see. The sheriff came over right away and nodded as he was told the details. He sent a deputy with several townsmen off on horseback to find the bandit who had…
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The Jacktown Trail, Chapter 1
The man on horseback had heard two shots and spied a dust cloud just past a hill to the east. It sparked his memory that he had heard the westbound stage was late getting to Jacksontown, or Jacktown, the town he had just left just 15 minutes ago.
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Three Poems
Here are some poems that I wrote recently in response to prompts, and some artwork from “back in the day” that I colorized recently that sort of go along. .
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The Baseball Player
Ed Davis, the Rendville Sun weekly newspaper editor, was sitting at his desk at the office one Friday morning in June, sifting through the slush pile of story ideas on his desk.
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The Battle
The men, all dressed identically in their olive drab Army uniforms and helmets, waited nervously for the enemy to attack in the darkness of predawn. They were situated in a rough line on a rocky piece of dirt facing the unseen foe.
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The Record Shop
An interesting thing happened to me yesterday, or maybe it was the day before. I’m running the cash register that afternoon at Howlin’ Wolfie’s Records on the strip up on campus. I had just put on Led Zeppelin IV, Side One, on the house stereo.
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The Reporter
Tom had gotten his first job at the town’s weekly newspaper, the Rendville Sun, only two years after graduating from high school. The meager portfolio of his high school newspaper work somehow had impressed the editor enough that she was willing to take a chance on the long-haired 20-year-old college student.
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The Ferry
Lawson trained his eyes on a white spot about 600 to 700 yards out. In the binoculars, the spot became a partially sunken sailboat with two boaters hanging on in desperation.
Dusty Tires 