Tag: fiction

The Beds of Trucks

As Jimmy turns onto Highway 9, I hear the roll of the can and the ping ping of metal against metal as it comes to rest in the corner. I look back through the sliding window. “What’s that?” I ask. “WD-40,” he says, eyes straight ahead, not even glancing...

Trade Off

Randy punched me in the mouth when we were ten. He said it was an accident; I thought it had something to do with my baseball card collection and not loaning him my Willie Mays. My upper lip swelled on the right side and the inside was slightly cut...

Why Me.

I haven’t written in awhile. Most of my well-intentioned musings are stored in opaque jars on a shelf called, “I’ll get to it someday.” Occasionally, I’ll get one down, turning the dusty jar with tired hands, opening the lid and examining the contents as if it were a spice...