He’d seen her coming down the hall that morning, saw the invitation in her eyes. She’d been flirting with him for months and he’d done nothing to stop it.
He’d been happily married for eighteen years with a beautiful wife and two kids. He should have been content in his life. He should have turned down the lunch invitation. He never should have ordered an alcoholic beverage. He hadn’t had a drink for nine years. He’d never cheated on his wife. Continue reading “Playing with Fire”
“Come on, Lucas, you’re gonna get caught.”
“No, I’m not; this firewall’s about as complicated as a Pop-Tart,” he answered, fingers flying across his keyboard. “I’ll be in and out before anyone knows I was there.”
Jackson shook his head as he watched the codes streaming down the computer screen. “Dude, this is serious. We could go to jail for something like this.” Continue reading “HACK3R”
August 21st, 2065
Bosmat Compound, Tel-Aviv
“He’s American.”
Stein sighed. “He’s the best we’ve got.”
Pax cocked a brow. He made it sound like they were scraping the bottom of the barrel. But halfway into World War IV, Continue reading “The American”
Photo Credit, David Niblack, Imagebase.net
She felt his presence as he sat down beside her on the concrete step. He didn’t speak, and neither did she.
The susurrus sound of rippling waves washing in upon the shore mingled with the laughter of happy couples in rowboats. A sanderling twittered by the dock. An old woman by the parking lot was handing out roses for Valentine’s Day. Continue reading “Worth Fighting For”
Photo Credit, David Niblack, Imagebase.net
“What’s going on?” Lindsay asked, sitting down at the end of the bench beside her sister.
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Colin said coming up behind them and sitting down at the other end of the bench. “I was in the middle of a meeting.”
Sheena nodded. “I know, I’m sorry, but we need to talk.”
“About what?” Lindsay asked. Continue reading “Remembering”
Photo Credit, David Niblack, Imagebase.net
A warm sea breeze rustled through the palm thatch umbrella shading the table. Matt inhaled the salty air and closed his eyes against the glaring sun. The surf roared in his ears as the tide washed in over the hot sand down on the beach. Children laughed, playing in the waves. Matt heard the clicking of a bicycle and opened his eyes just in time to see Claire ride up. Continue reading “Letting Go”
The headlights glared through the rain. The trucker blasted his horn. Carter tried to swerve back into the right lane, but the bike laid down and slid across the wet, cliff-side road. The truck roared past him. The bike plummeted off the ledge and Carter followed it. Helpless to stop his descent, he plunged into the darkness of the canyon below. It was four hundred feet to the bottom. He knew he’d be dead on impact. His arms flailed, vainly trying to grab hold of something—anything. Continue reading “When Dawn Breaks”
I heard him before I could see him. It was the voice of Thomas Boyd, the octave of a freight train and commanding as an admiral. He didn’t raise his voice; he never had too. It was just that deep, authoritative timbre that told you the man knew what he was talking about and if you got in his way you were liable to get crushed like a grape in a winepress.
The man came around the corner, barged into my office, and commandeered the leather chair behind my desk as if it were his favorite recliner. Continue reading “How Much?”
Mason sighed. “Come on, Noah, it’s time for you to quit hiding behind that notebook.”
Noah glanced up from where he sat against the wall, scribbling in one of the pages. “I’m not hiding.”
“Yeah…you are.”
“Look, maybe I just don’t want to do it.”
Mason shook his head and stared long and hard at his friend.
“You’re a coward,” he said finally and turned to leave. Continue reading “Lift Up Your Face”
Jonathan’s soul burned within him as he walked, remembering his father’s words.
The quick, low chirruping of a sandgrouse in a cypress tree echoed across the plain. The morning clouds glowed fiery orange against the lightening purple sky.
When he reached the field, he stopped and turned to the boy with him. “‘Run, find out now the arrows which I shoot.’”
The boy took off through the prairie grass with the swiftness of youth.
Jonathan pulled an arrow out of the quiver at his back, readied it in his longbow, and released. It whipped through the air and landed several hundred feet beyond the boy. Continue reading “Saving David”
Whitney L. Schwartz 