-1- The locals of Orem Crossroads don’t need a calendar to know when July rolls around. Snails shed their shells in the triple digit heat and Jane mows her yard every Wednesday wearing her best house dress, the floral long-sleeved cotton, cinched at the waist. She sweeps her silver hairContinue Reading
The alarm blared and the Governor’s eyes snapped awake in the darkness. No time to dillydally today. He picked up his phone, swiped upward, and turned off the alert. He lay there for a moment with his thoughts floating . . . floating . . . until they congealed intoContinue Reading
Just once I’d like to hear a criminal invoke something besides the “withem” defense, an accused’s way of explaining that he didn’t actually commit a crime but was in the vicinity of those who did and was technically “with ‘em.” I also wish it was illegal for a client toContinue Reading
King Frederick flashed his old, worried eyes at the queen as they stood beside an ornate wooden bed where the chalky Prince Laverlier lay. The young man’s condition was a mystery to the day’s conventional physicians. The prince had been bled, burned, and poulticed half to death, but, alas, nothingContinue Reading
Sara filled the air with a pitiful cry, from somewhere deep inside her chest, that even made her daddy misty-eyed. She clutched her yellow dog, Milly, around the neck, refusing to let go, and, when Daddy put his hands on her shoulder, she tightened her embrace. Milly’s body was cold,Continue Reading
Etta Langdon sat cradling her baby at a table on the back porch. In the distance, truck tires crunched atop gravel to a slow halt, and, after a few minutes, the driver’s side door groaned open and slammed shut. Reed had come home from his construction job. Etta grinned, wideContinue Reading
He was pale. Wrapped in a stark white blanket, cold and blind. The mother lay, one leg uncovered on top of the sheet, sweat dried along her forehead, resting from some sixteen hours. The child un-held. There was a father, outside in the desert cold, smoking. A witness to whatContinue Reading
The following tale, “Legend of Rockface,” can be found in Ivy Love Brown’s short story anthology, Mr. Lotman. “WHAT I’M ABOUT TO TELL YOU AIN’T NO TALL TALE. It’s true. Every line. I’ve fished this here water my whole life. I’ve seen every bit of ribbon that is theContinue Reading
The Dancing Fiddle was going to close down. It had stood at the corner of the main street since most anyone could remember. Bill bought it off the old man who had it before him, and now, as he was old in turn, he had no one to leave itContinue Reading