Some stories are meant to be short. If a short story stands on it’s own, complete from the the writer’s point of view, then it has met its destiny.
...Derner was bone tired and he had not had a shower for two days. Once his tractor-trailer was safely parked, he had to decide whether to eat first, or take a shower. He was so exhausted that he was tempted to skip both. Situated right behind his driver’s seat, his sleeper was very tempting. Then again, he remembered his bedsheets were stinky enough to keep him awake. Add one more thing to his to do list. No sleeping until he changed his sheets...
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Carrie opened her eyes and looked at the glow in the dark stars painted on her bedroom ceiling. Her mother did that for her when she was nine, a year before she died. She traced one of the stars with her finger, remembering what her mother said about them. “You can reach for the stars with your heart and your mind.” Her mother constantly encouraged her to be bold. She understood Carrie’s need to make her own choices, whenever the opportunity presented itself. Limited by her circumstances, she yearned for freedom. Self-doubt, a loving but overprotective father, and the facts of her life, made the kind of freedom teenagers took for granted, seem as unreachable as the starts on her ceiling.
She rolled...
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It was a cold morning in Phoenix, two days before Christmas. Temperatures had dipped into the low 30s, making the car, even with the few blankets they had, uncomfortably cold. Marvin Jackson and his wife, Melba were huddled together in the front seat. Melba’s feet, covered by heavy woolen socks, rested on top of the small cooler on the car’s floor. Their three children, girls 6, 9 and 14, were taking turns sitting in the middle seat, trying to keep warm...
Read More...When Lionel Labs offered the Wrights research positions only ten days after they successfully completed their PhDs, they were thrilled by their good fortune. Had they known they were entering a high stakes drama that would threaten to hideously compromise their work and put their safety at risk, they would not have felt so fortunate...
Read MoreOther than maybe on Christmas day, I never pour myself a shot of whiskey in the morning. But I did that morning. I had three shots, actually. The first one I sipped in a gentlemanly fashion. The other two I downed like I was sitting...
Read MoreRollo Baskies woke up in the darkness and knew immediately he was in trouble. He felt the cold concrete on his face. His shoulder ached from the floor’s unrelenting hardness. The faint glow coming from behind him, he realized was from a cigarette. He could smell the smoke now. He was afraid to turn over and look. What was the last thing he remembered?
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Jon Tucci woke up early Sunday morning. So early, in fact that it wasn’t light out yet. He looked at his watch. It was 4:30. His brain still foggy, he thought it odd that he wore his watch to bed. It should be on the nightstand. Since it was late June, sunrise wasn’t far off. He stretched his body a bit and became aware of something totally unexpected. He was also on the wrong side of the bed. How did that happen?
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