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”
A wee change. Review first, then explanation…Then a treat…A Saturday story!!
Let us first consider our stories of the week.
We only had one new author, that is a bit sparse of late but we never squelch on quality as our repeated writers continue to ooze talent.
We have the usual eclectic mix including clowns, a repetition, ghosts, a common fear and a musical machine that we all want to see!
They began to line up long before dawn. First in line was a man from Africa.
His name on the small yellowed sheet he had folded in half, then folded again and placed in the right front pocket of his pressed blue shirt was Mohammad Abbasi. The driver’s license in the brown fake leather wallet he’d bought from a man on the street had his name as Martin Fisk. So did the green card he’d paid fifty dollars for, too many years ago to remember.