Mr. Boylston was a cute little man. He came down for the free breakfast each morning, already dressed in a wool blazer he’d probably had for thirty years. His scent was of Old Spice and hair tonic, and it evoked images of times when families took taxicabs uptown to do their shopping on Saturdays and …
Category: Fiction
The Lucky Break
The morning had already been bad enough. Five years earlier, Max Marberry had run the Crestwood office of the Warren Insurance Agency, that is, until Harry Warren had sold out to a Spartanburg agency owned by Leland Allin, who had installed his son as the manager of the Crestwood storefront. Now the elder Allin was …
The Lucky Break, Final Part
It wasn’t much trouble for Max Marberry to draw from his Master Card and get two thousand dollars at the Suntrust branch on the outskirts of Spartanburg. He couldn’t make the transaction at the drive-through window, though, and had to walk inside. He parked the car and instinctively removed the keys. It wasn’t because he …
The Lucky Break, Part Two
“How long you got?” Golightly asked as we pulled out of the city parking lot. “Well, as you may have known before I did, my position has been eliminated,” I said. “I reckon I’ve got to get my stuff cleaned out by the end of the day.” “I need a ride to Spartanburg.” “Great.” “You …
The Lucky Break, Part One
The morning had already been bad enough. Five years earlier, Max Marberry had run the Crestwood office of the Warren Insurance Agency, that is, until Harry Warren had sold out to a Spartanburg agency owned by Leland Allin, who had installed his son as the manager of the Crestwood storefront. Now the elder Allin was …
Where Might the Suspects Be?
Paralysis. Groping for some coherence. Doing menial chores just as a substitute for creativity, in the desperate hope that something will arise, something out of thin air or gray matter. Pairing socks. Washing dishes. Paying bills. Biding time till something, anything, happens along. He picked up his guitar, started strumming, but he wasn’t of a …
Broad Based Appeal
When Wyatt Posey showed up at work, the woman who spent all day behind the main sales desk – i.e., the receptionist – was wearing clear plastic gloves. Wyatt didn’t say anything, but he couldn’t help staring. “I don’t want to get Ebola,” Grace Northers said. “Has Ebola been seen?” Wyatt asked. “Well, no, but …
Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell
Claim you’re making / More than you are / Hitch your wagon / To a star / The truth is incidental / To what you gotta say / Those who can’t play ball / Are prone to fade away. Riggs Hellams completed his session with the fungo, and now all he had to do was …
Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell (Final Part)
The final series of the season was upon the Portland Loggers, and the opposition was the Los Angeles Dodgers, who, with ninety-three victories, boasted the second-best record in the National League. They were twenty games ahead of the Loggers and five up on the San Francisco Giants. The best pitcher in baseball, lefthander Clayton Kershaw, …
Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell (Part Seven)
Life is short / Give it your all / Keep your focus / On the ball / Be aware of all the detours in your way / And never be afraid when it’s time / To walk away. Three games remained in the regular season. The Los Angeles Dodgers were in town, division champions already, …
Nightrider's Lament 