Harry the Mountain Man – Part Two
Short Story THE TIME I ROBBED A BANK I must’ve been just about 25 at the time, WHOO that was a long time ago. Now, just about that time, I had fallen in with...
Short stories & poems for everyone from everyone
Short Story THE TIME I ROBBED A BANK I must’ve been just about 25 at the time, WHOO that was a long time ago. Now, just about that time, I had fallen in with...
Short Story THE TIME I CRASHED A PLANE INTO MEXICO Now, sure as the world is spinnin’, I’m a mountain man at heart. That being stated all truthful and all, a man can’t be expected...
Short Story THE TIME I SAW A UFO This tale begins in a bar, like most good tales, I’d reckon. Well, the rain was coming down thick, and it was thunderin’ like I had...
Short Story ADVENTURE IN MEXICO Ye may well ‘member how I told ye ‘bout the time I crashed a plane down inta Mexico. Well, this here be one o’ the following tales o’ me...
Serial The Butcher didn’t see direct assault fitted this delicate task. If the Brewer said ‘no,’ then what! He wouldn’t be opt to torture him, would he. ‘I am on your side and...
Short Story In which the baffling buffoonery of the Boonesvillian banditos begins Hiding in an alley across the street from Gitcha Goods, peeking around the corner, crouching in the darkness, and generally exhibiting shifty...
Contemporary Short Fiction Regarding our heroes stay in the little shack Months passed but the washcloths never did. As the sky warped from a drizzling gray to a sunny blue, it was unaware of...
Serial Fiction During which Boris is interrupted by and retaliates against libelers Pot smoke swam between the brick walls of the alley as the wind played with it, possibly a little high itself. A...
Short Story I woke covered in freezing dew, my teeth chattering. My first impulse was to go back home, to curl up in my parents bed, but I knew I could never go back...
We spent a month at a bookstore in the old Latin Quarter of Paris. The old shop had a long history of allowing aspiring writers to bunk there as long as they worked a couple...
We woke the next morning in the bookstore, pale and ill, my head in a vice grip, my left arm swollen and sore. Joanna’s hair in knots and mascara smeared all over her face,...
The summer came and went in a heavy gossamer haze. We spent days walking up and down the Seine and around the city and we often sat on the tip of the Île de...