“We are not descended from fearful men,” the box filled with wires and lights says to her as she sits, waiting, on the anniversary. She stares into its eyes. This is the sign . . .
Tag: Mondays Are Murder
Everybody has a right to life apparently. I disagree. Some people deserve to die. People like him . . .
Brown and mustard. I stared at the painted mushrooms on the wall, the same way I did every day. In the eighties, Brementown was living in seventies colors. Brown and mustard . . .
Angie made Ed jealous, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. She loved to drink and flirt. Drugs too, if somebody else was buying. But after Katrina it was different. Most of the bars were closed, most of the men gone to Baton Rouge, Houston, who knew where . . .
There’s someone dying on the side of the highway tonight because my daddy taught me how to walk quiet and how to use a peacemaker . . .
Big Lew’s ample hips flopped over the sides of the wooden chair. The lunch crowd hadn’t yet begun to stream in . . .
“Aren’t you hot in that?” She gestured at my sport coat. . . .
Bogo got the call from Sammy. It sounded all wrong. “Bogo, the bastard brought a crew to the exchange. They damn near killed us, but don’t worry, we still got the goods . . .”