I park in my normal spot at the hospital and walk the short distance to visitor parking. I scan the area for Robin and I see her walking between two cars. She stops, looking around quickly, before kneeling and doing something to one of the vehicle’s tire. I hear a hissing sound whiz through the night as I head in her direction. Continue reading “Terminal (Pt. 7)”
“So, did you fuck her?” Philip asked, the light of the fire casting flickering shadows over his face. He looked like a child awaiting the ending of a campfire story; simultaneously eager and hesitant to hear the conclusion of Michael’s tale. Continue reading “Gentleman’s Game (Pt. 1)”
Kapper is a son of a bitch, Jacob Walters thinks as he opens the door to his home. The bastard had granted Edleman’s plea for a two day recess to assess the potential validity of the new witnesses’ statements.
It was a stall tactic if Jacob had ever seen one. Continue reading “Suicide Jack (Pt. 4)”
The drive home was mostly uneventful for Elise. It was a stressful drive, visibility was next to nothing and she had to drive her SUV at a sluggish pace despite the fact there was no traffic.
At night, Rowley was absolutely dead. Continue reading “Harbinger (Pt. 8)”
“My name is Rial,” the robed man says, staring at us with his strange pair of eyes. They’re now gray and hazy, but with a smattering of color lurking in them, shimmering in the backdrop like some sort of obscured rainbow. Continue reading “Ice Cream and Debauchery (Pt. 6)”
We’re driving through the narrow streets of Rosedale, an isolated town in the shadow of the Pocono Mountains. It’s quiet here, quaint even, but there’s a sadness laced over its initial beauty. The town, a former railroad and farming outpost, has been dwindling and decaying for decades. Continue reading “Ice Cream and Debauchery (Pt. 5)”
Mom sits at the dining room table, her usual perch, towers of old magazines and unpaid bills obscuring her cigarette smoking silhouette. She holds a shaky hand to her lips, where a cigarette trembles, her other hand holding a glass of wine good and steady. There’s a smattering of objects on the table around her, crumbs, dirty silverware, and a cavalcade of pills she may or may not have a prescription for. Continue reading “Ice Cream and Debauchery (Pt. 4)”