Category: Fiction
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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.
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The Ferry
Bill Murphy woke up at his usual 5:30 a.m. on a Tuesday in August and got up from his couch in the living room in his bungalow in Marblehead, Ohio. A half-empty Maker’s Mark bottle sat on the coffee table next to him. He capped the bottle, retrieved yesterday’s Sandusky Register newspaper from the floor…
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Black Betty
The day after he went out on his first date, James made a firm resolution to buy a car of his own.
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Mo is For Movies
It was 7:36 p.m. on a warm summer evening, and Steve “Mo” Marlington stood for a moment in the corner of the concession stand of the Eastside Drive-In Theatre a few miles east of Rendville out on U.S. 20, watching a mountain of hot buttered popcorn sputter and grow within its glass enclosure.
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The Log Cabin
The man, who wore heavy leather boots and coat, and breeches made of heavy woolen cloth, stepped down from the wagon he had driven on the rough-hewn road. The roadway was heavily studded with stumps but there was a clearing in the forested country.
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The Baseball Game
Andrew Jenkins, or “Jenks” as he was called by his teammates, stood in left field gazing at the crowd in the stands. It had taken him a long time to get here, and he was going to enjoy every moment of it.
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Patience
It was a struggle. It had taken all the effort it could muster to push upward from under the ground, and still it was not enough. Strife! “Patience must be learned,” it heard whispered from somewhere.
Dusty Tires 