Microfiction — 007/365

What is this about? Some Kind Of Angle As the Nokia beeped out a lame rendition of “Push It” by Salt ‘N Pepa, he fumbled to muffle the noise. Could there have been a worse time for his cell phone to ring? He doubted it while noting to himself to change the goddam incoming call …

Microfiction – 006/365

What is this about? Five Minutes Left All things considered, the Chevrolet Impala is amazingly watertight for an automobile. I, for one and only, should know being as at this very moment I’m sitting in said same vehicle — the ’94 SS model — as it lists hard to starboard in the oil-slicked and murky …

Microfiction – 005/365

What is this about? Disconnect There was nothing but silence on the other end of the line. Not a sound. “Talk to me . . . ” he said slowly, and waited. Not a word. Not even a breath. Cabot sighed. “Look, I know you’re scared. I can feel it. It’s okay to be scared. …

Microfiction – 004/365

What is this about? Fool’s Gold Something at Buchanan’s feet caught his eye. Striding across a ridge overlooking the sunbaked and rugged terrain of the Black Hills, in the South Dakota territory, Buchanan stopped and backtracked a few steps before toeing a dusty boot into the dark earth beneath his feet, sending it cascading in …

Microfiction – 003/365

What is this about? Turbulence It was a puddlejump from Springfield to St. Louis. On a plane so small the cockpit door was a curtain and the passengers were distributed through the cigar tube of a cabin so as to best and most evenly distribute their cumulative weight across the aisle. If one could call …

Microfiction – 002/365

What is this about? Like Father Like Son With the butt of the rifle resting against the boy’s right shoulder, the small pumphouse a quarter mile away loomed large in the viewfinder of the Unertl 10x telescopic sight. As his father talked about something beside him, the boy could clearly read the grafitti that covered …