My journal of big words and pretty pictures
Seymour bent over the passenger-side fender digging in the engine bay looking for anything out of kilter. He leaned back, hands on his hips, to holler into the open car window. “Fire ‘er up!” Seymour waved his grease rag over his head to signal ignition Cecil, hugging the steering wheel with one arm turned the … Continue reading Fire ‘er up
When you write about me later, and you will, please resist the urge to lapse into hyperbole. It will be easy to do, and certainly justified, but the common reader won’t be able to grasp my extraordinary circumstances and succumb to disbelief. We can’t have that. Better to under-play the details than to lose your … Continue reading Exclusive interview
“Not a big fan,” I turned away, shrugging through my critique. “What’s not to like?” Hannah danced around to face me, laughing, trying to make me smile. “Seiously? How much time you got?” My sarcasm thick with disdain. “What do you have against him?” Hannah frowned, genuinely bewildered by my scorn. “Again, how much time … Continue reading Not a fan
“So, what’s the skinny?” he’d drawl, his hat dipped low over his eyes. Dating Burt was like living in a hardboiled film noir. A Sam Spade wannabe, Burt threw around words like “copper” and "goon." He wore a sweat-stained fedora and crumpled khaki trench coat, drank cheap bourbon and smoked unfiltered Camel cigarettes. By “smoked,” … Continue reading Koi meets girl
Miss Clementine Fernsby was dressed inappropriately for the sweltering weather in her bespoken Weddington blouse of starched cotton, and ankle-length woolen walking skirt. Her silvery hair sat on top of her head in an orderly, coifed Edwardian bun. She and her secretary, Mabel, a plain and dowdy matron, were taking a stroll around the city’s … Continue reading An orderly life
The light turned from red to green and I slowly accelerated into the intersection, a glint of sunlight off a windshield my only warning Then the screech of tires, a smell of hot tar and diesel fuel, and the desperate screams of car horns assaulted me - or were the screams mine. In a split … Continue reading Intersection
