An old black man walked by my house two times a day, five days a week, once in the morning and again in the evening. He wore a pair of patched denim jeans and a drab green field jacket. His shoulders slumped forward as he walked. I watched him go by for a week before I decided to do something. Continue reading “A Cup of Kindness”
Leona stared, unseeing, at the small grungy duplex. Her eyes fixed upon the fading gray door and penetrated through the walls to her past. That night so long ago came rushing back like a tidal flood and nearly drowned her once again in the pain of it all. She could see the others—homies, out for a good time and looking for themselves. They couldn’t abandon her fast enough when the cops showed up. Continue reading “Become New”
Photo Credit, David Niblack, Imagebase.net
There it was. Third window from the left, five floors up. The white lace curtains still hung down from the silver rod like a veil concealing the treasure behind it.
He could still see Larisa standing there that day eight years ago. He’d turned back one last time and cast a glance up toward her window. She stood, curtains parted, looking down at him with a look that sent shards of longing and remorse through his heart. Yet he’d gotten in his car and driven away. Continue reading “Third Window from the Left”
Photo Credit, David Niblack, Imagebase.net
The photographs scattered like blackbirds frightened from their forest coverture by a hunter’s gun. The flames reached up their greedy hands and clutched at the images, drawing them down into the fire where they curled and charred around the edges, turning black, catching fire and dying upon the blazing logs. Nina watched them burn until there was nothing left except for ashes. She glanced up at the night sky, watched gray clouds pass over the moon, inhaled a deep breath of the cool night air tinged with smoke. The smoke of her past. If only the memories could burn up and die as easily as the photographs. Continue reading “Made New”
Christmas Eve. 1941. Hong Kong.
A continuous bevy of shots from assault rifles and machine gun fire filled the air like a devilish percussion straight from hell. Mortars and grenades exploded around them like thunder cracks of mass destruction. Bullets, dirt, and shrapnel shot through the air. Men shouted and screamed as blood poured out upon the earth.
“Danny!” Joe yelled as he saw his friend take a bullet.
Crimson blood stained the front of his olive-drab field jacket as he clutched at his stomach. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground.
Joe bolted forward from the protection of the foxhole. Continue reading “Show Me Peace”
His fingers slid around the iron handle of the dagger beneath his cloak and he squared his shoulders, standing between his family and the men in the doorway
They were obviously foreigners, but, from their diverse appearances, they looked to be each from a different place.
Who were they?
The clothes that they wore were no pauper’s rags. They looked to be exceedingly wealthy, but that would beg the question, why were they here? Continue reading “God With Us”
“She’s a pretty little thing,” Eve said as she watched the young woman.
“She looks so tired,” Sarah commented.
The girl’s pale face and heavy-lidded eyes undershadowed by dark circles clearly reinforced the statement. Continue reading “Especially Now”
Doug made his way through the crowded corridors of O’Hare. His bag hung over his shoulder and the pain in his back letting him know that his body didn’t appreciate the long flight. He wasn’t so young anymore, but the sleepless nights had taken their toll and left him feeling far older than his sixty-two years. He trudged outside through the doors and a rush of cold air blasted him in the face. He pulled the collar of his coat tighter and glanced around. The sun had long-since set and the city was lit by street lamps and neon signs. Cold flakes of snow were just beginning to fall from the black night sky.
Doug waited for a cab, trying several times unsuccessfully to get one to stop. When he finally he got one, he slipped into the backseat and set his bag down beside him.
The young driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “Hey, where you goin’, pops?” Continue reading “Prodigal Christmas”