A Hero’s Life

Sitting at his keyboard, Caulfield could not see around the soft, gray walls of his cubicle. But when he rolled back and turned to his left, he could see across the aisle into Johnson’s. He could see Johnson’s shoulder, the arc of Johnson’s back, the chair under Johnson’s ass. He could also see out the…

Settling In With Ghosts

I had almost forgotten about the ghost. I hadn’t seen her since Moving In With Ghosts, and I could come in from the garage late at night without needing to glance up at the window above the back door to see if she was peeking out. But in the back of my mind, she was…

The King of the House

This is not the beginning of the story. The story begins in this place, at another time. Or perhaps in another place, at this time. Whatever the case, our entry point is this. In this place, here and now, but not at the beginning, is a man age 73. He is the king of his…

The Words She Brought Home

Days of the week… Days of the week… These are the days of the week. She brought the words home from kindergarten. A song they had sung. Her face was pale. The bags under her eyes deep and dark. We thought it was the storm that had been hovering over us all week. The thunder…

Georgette Is With A Client

Georgette had said it would take a week to ten days to get the cremains and death certificates back. After fourteen days, I phoned to ask why the delay. “Georgette is with a client,” said the girl who answered. “But let me check. We just got some in.” I wondered what she meant by some.

Priests & Paramedics

A workboot pushes a shovel into earth. The blade lifts dirt over the grave digger’s shoulder. Dust falls on his white t-shirt, dissolves in sweat under his collar. He leans the shovel against the side of the hole. Smears his forearm against his brow. He blinks, distracted by beeps from a vehicle in reverse. He…

Moving In With Ghosts

Sometimes Emily wanders into our bedroom late at night while we’re sleeping. Could be a bad dream. Thunder. A pain in her leg. She puts her hands on the bed and calls our names until we stir, then climbs up. Eventually one of us will carry her back upstairs. I turned off the water and…

On the Veranda

A heavy fist rattled the door and a deep, husky voice said comin’ in. Thus entered the doctor, his long white coat parted by his belly, which preceded him into the room. Squeezing his fat forehead was a black band holding one of those silver metal thingies. He glanced at me, and then his eyes…

One Evening Aboard the Wrong Plane

For much of the flight, the gentleman in 13A noticed nothing out of the ordinary. He smiled at the stewardess. He enjoyed beverages. He made use of a pillow. The normal hum of the cabin helped him along quite nicely. In fact, he’d always found the normal hum of the cabin to be rather comforting.…

Mr. Erly’s Appointment ~ A Screenplay

Awhile back I posted a story called The Good Doctor. In that post, I mentioned I reworked that story into the opening scene of a screenplay. I did the same thing with another story for the second scene. That story was called Mr. Erly’s Appointments, I have not posted the prose version of that story,…

A Real Honker

“Darryl, honey,” Lucille said. “Why do you put that stuff in your mouth?” Darryl gave the can a few more pops, opened it, pinched some snuff, and stuffed it in his lower lip.  It was a real honker. “It’s my diet, baby.  Long as I got this,” he spit in his cup, “I know I…