Gram and I used to watch Jeopardy together almost every weeknight. Our little “must see” TV date began at the dawn of my memory and ended with Gram’s death shortly after my twenty-second birthday; it’s already ten years gone by.
Continue reading “A True Daily Double by Leila Allison”
I outline payment schedules. Credit card bills, student loans, power, utilities. I draw up grocery budgets and lists, in my elegant cursive, something I’ve relearned in recent months. More onions, less TV dinners, and Diet-Pepsi, containing more late-night sleeplessness. A tomato or two, if possible. Some granola bars, even.
No beer, save for the occasional six-pack of Coors Light.
Continue reading “American Nightmare by Yash Seyedbagheri”
Some people in or about his circle of friends of Willard Coxby III, weren’t sure of his nickname, with choices at the start, whether it was “Tulips” or “Two-Lips,” both being cautions of the ear, the receptions, as if one served over the other.
Continue reading “The Code Master by Tom Sheehan”
Leila is back with Jennie Boyes this week and another scary piece. Grab a cushion to hide behind.
Continue reading “Literally Reruns – Rattletrap by Jennie Boyes”
It’s Saturday afternoon.
It’s Twelve O’ Clock.
And this is post 329.
I hated ‘Crackerjack’.
It was a kids show that ended with a quiz. If the kid got a question correct, they got a prize that they had to hold. If they got it wrong they were given a cabbage. If they dropped anything, they got another cabbage.
But on the bright side, the wee stupid weans would at least have coleslaw and soup to eat for a few weeks!
Continue reading “Week 329 – Remembering Stewpot, Wondering If Two Snowflakes Are Frightened Of Everything And China Crisis Did Some Good Songs.”
One day in March, I felt an excruciating abdominal pain, so painful that I fell to the floor. Because my wife Sally was out shopping and I was immobilized, there was nothing I could do. Within five minutes, the pain left, and I felt as if nothing had happened. I decided not to tell Sally, because I knew that she would freak and want me to see a doctor immediately. I thought it best to see how things played out, and see my doctor at the earlier of my next incident, or within a month.
Continue reading “Half by Doug Hawley”
I fucked up. I did. I admit it. I messed up bad. Some have even accused me of child abuse, and those accusations have come from members of my own family. You might have heard something about this mess already. Now, what I’m asking you to do is set aside whatever you heard and listen to what I have to say. I did mess up, but I wasn’t alone, and if you get the backstory, it might help you understand what went down.
Continue reading “The Name of the Game by Frederick K Foote”
Louis Pyne squats on his haunches beside the corpse. The boathouse is cold as a meat locker. A massive hangover is dancing a tarantella six-eight time inside his skull, and the two guys standing behind Lou are making him nervous. At least they’re hungover as well. Hell, even the corpse would be begging for aspirin if he wasn’t so dead.
Continue reading “The Fall Guy by Marco Etheridge”
In the still of night, I sneak into Dad’s Chevy Bel-Air. Slide into the front seat, the seat that was Mom’s. A seat that Dad has proclaimed will remain empty.
Continue reading “Front Seat by Yash Seyedbagheri”
Brenda Beal, “Worth a feel,” she’d said a thousand times since Jack had dumped her and two kids, without a car, without a washing machine, without a refrigerator that worked, without all the money from her bank account, owing two months’ rent and the electricity and heating bills including the A/C bill (but he took the A/C because it was new and worked better than he did on his best day): all of this too soon revealed in their marriage. Little Jackie was her reminder of the night in the back seat of Jack’s father’s car, at the lake, under the moon, in a soft breeze the Atlantic sent in over Nahant and Lynn beaches. And Jenny carried the memory of a three-week hiatus after Jackie was born.
Continue reading “Temporarily Unemployed by Tom Sheehan”
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