Wayne stands in line at the service desk of his local box store. He bounces from heel to toe as he waits and fidgets with his mask, then remembers he shouldn’t touch it and rests his hand at his side. The lone woman working the service desk chomps gum (perhaps thinking her mask hides it?) … Continue reading Re-Entry
“Come here so I can lay my head on your shoulder.” Propped up in bed by a mountain of pillows, he rests his blue-lined, much-scared hand down on the comforter beside him. The other hand lies across his stomach, IV’s and plastic sprouting from it and running down the side of the bed. His wife … Continue reading Her Favorite Place
Robby unearths the small green stone from beneath a tough-packed hump of brown dirt in his backyard. When he brushes the mud from its uneven sides, it sparkles in the sun. “Alien stone,” he says, his eyes lighting up. He spends the afternoon cleaning the gem, wrapping it in wire, and suspending it from a … Continue reading Martian Boy
God, these people, Jay thinks. He tries hard not to arch his head back or roll his eyes. It’s bad enough that he can't keep the sneer of scorn from his lips. “Well, how do you like that, global warming people?” the minister says in passing. They alway take their hits in passing. Religious people. … Continue reading Holding Hands, Not Meeting Hearts
I started this story two years ago, just before the pandemic hit. It wasn't something I was in love with so I let it sit unfinished for a while. I've added an ending and got around a rough draft to share with all of you Prose Lovers. Enjoy! It is cold here. In the winter, … Continue reading Solitary Water
A teacher sits at the entrance of the school. Before her stands a table on which a book lays open. Behind her, the facade of the building frowns down from dull windows, reflecting a dull sky. The door to the school is shut and black--a heavy steel set of doors on which no glimmer of … Continue reading Cultural Education
I cannot shut off the voices.
The McKays gave a party every year at the beginning and end of summer, along with other lesser festivities book-ended between. At the beginning and ending parties the Who’s Who of society appeared, making the nobility of Stillbank look like unbecoming peons. A week of preparations went into both parties, but there was a fervor about the season opener that could not be paralleled.
A body has been discovered dead in the drive at the Club St. Claire. William Jay tells the story of what happened years ago on a fateful night deep in the swamps of Louisiana.
William Jay has come to the club St. Claire not only to reminisce about his life in the Louisiana swamps during the Roaring Twenties when the booze needed to be hidden and the men weren't always what they seemed; he has come to make his confession. "Part of the story," he tells his dinner partner, "you already know..."