Rusted Tin

“Therein lies the problem.” Sheriff Clay says pulling handcuffs from his pocket.”This is just a little private use liquor, John” Bill Wade offers.”Your parole is very specific. No liquor making. Period. Put your hands behind your back.” The sheriff orders.”Oh hell John. All you have here is some empty bottles. Old sugar bags and some

Interesting Times

The Pentagon talks of “motherships” in our galaxy. Tech companies tout the wisdom of AI chat bots.War and conflict so prevelent, it no longer makes the “news”.Science, political and fiction, have displaced rational thought.Quite peculiar.

Illusion

Like the baggage strewn about in a lifetime of risk taking and heartache, the snow piles up. The wind batters the face, striving to compete with the chilled heart. The bitter frost glistening on the trees, suggests to the mind that warmth, this day is merely an illusion.

Mexico, Sally

Memories lying cast in the snow and cold winter wind….Everything he has, except what is hidden under the driver’s seat of his old car, lays there. Like a bared soul, naked and vulnerable. All eyes on it, as the wind carries some articles across the cold yard.Her husband pulled his colt python from its place

Defeat in the Air

The way his body slumped, crumpling where he stood. Head down and his eyes seemed to burn the ground. I knew the news he received, even though I couldn’t hear it, wasn’t good. Even 20 yards or so away I could feel the defeat in the air, gnawing and burning. Leaving a wish that somehow

How

How might we express that timeA shared union, past tense sureReal and imagined, to some extentBound, yet also aloofWhole, complete, fulfilledAnd toxic tooOnce, that was usGone now, and for the best

common ground

disputeunderstandingnot only complainingconsensus can be fully reachedmaybeworkingtoward an honest solutionfinding a common groundto focus onagree

Justification

“Darlin…”, the devil said, with a drawl so pronounced, you could smell mama’s chicken and okra on the stove, “…if we are not permitted on occasion, to bathe in the pools of self pity, lathering ourselves with the soothing essence of misery, while washing our hair in the effervescent pearls of despair, then what pray

50 Word Thursday #11

This is my attempt at 50 Word Thursday #11 Thank you Deb Whittam   Along with the photo above, the following phrase serves as a prompt. ‘If I’d stopped to think I might not have done it, but fury is a great disregarder of caution.’ The rules are simple.  Write something, poem, short story, anything,

Day to Day

“Get these men to the river Sergeant!” the Lieutenant ordered. The relentless fighting has taken a toll on our boys. “You heard the man, haul it, before these bugs take over the whole planet.” the Sergeant barked. They advance cutting into the alien creatures with precision.