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He didn’t quit, and we didn’t talk about that night in November again. We just lived in an uneasy tension for the next several weeks. On New Year’s Eve, the bar was filled with people, and we were too busy to be distant or angry with each other. By the time the ball dropped,…
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So, for the next several months I spent a lot of time at the bar working while Dickerson spent a lot of time at home working. It didn’t bother me much—I actually found I got more work done without him there to distract me with jokes and gossip and recaps of televisions—but it did…
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At first, everything was fine. Dickerson and I would start work around 3 pm, opening the bar around 4 pm, and working until 2 am, a few hours after last call. We worked 6 days a week. It was grueling at times, but it was also exciting. Some nights were slow, but others were…
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Everyone told me that there would be trouble if I went through with it, but I’m hopelessly optimistic that everyone will see my side of things, so I ignored them and forged ahead with my plans. Even so, I had to give myself a good talking to in the mirror on that morning I went…
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Lord, spare the dying From lingering too long While the people who love them Keep endless hours, sleepless, restless Sitting, ragged, by their bed. Lord, spare the dying From the pain of witnessing The weight of loss reflected In the eyes of the people who gather ‘round Singing, crying, grieving Even before they pass. Lord,…
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After he died, we went to the local Wal-mart And bought the nicest clothes we could find there What I would have worn, had I known, was in the closet at home. The brown corduroy skirt and striped button up Would just have to do. It snowed, Those enormous, wonderful flakes Falling faster than we…
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They were not called for another three days. The letter Frank was given was thick. As he tucked it into his pocket, he heard whispers in an unknown tongue. Corrupted. He tried not to think of it, but that only made me think of the words that had been seared onto his eyelids. Daag glash…
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Frank handed the letter with the strange markings to the captain once they got back to the camp. He tucked it into a folder without comment, then shooed him away, as he waited to the collect the next letter from the next soldier. Frank moved off slowly, wondering about what he had seen. He could…
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Harry was eating in silence that evening while the others chatted idly about the things they had seen that day while delivering letters. No one had believed Frank when he told the story about the woman eating his letter, until Fred piped in that he had seen it too. Peter and Jack had gone somewhere…
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They went out in pairs the next day. One was the driver, the other was the carrier. The letters were hand written, tri-folded then sealed shut with wax. They looked like something from a by-gone time. Peter went with Jack, hopping into the sidecar of the motorcycle before Jack sped off down the dirt road…
The Quick and the Dead
Short stories. Creative experiments. Ideas that might not pan out.
The Quick and the Dead 