compo Photo by Unsplash

Jackson awoke with a start — well, more of a silent scream really. He patted his chest. Clean. There should have been at least a half a dozen bullet wounds there. But there were none.

“It’s happened again,” he muttered.

He gazed about. An alley. Trash cans knocked over, most likely by stray dogs, he thought, reeked of rotting garbage.

Beside him lay his fedora. He snatched it up and placed it on his head, cocked jauntily to one side. He stood and brushed the dirt from his pinstriped suit, complete with tab collars.

He could see people on the…

Photo from Unsplash

“You’re drunk.”

“And possibly throw up as well.”

“Yes, please go before you do one or the other right here on the bar,” Angie replied. Well, one or maybe both of her replied.

Trevor tried his best to walk a straight line to the men’s room through the crowded bar. The loud music and the cacophony of people talking, as well as the massive amount of alcohol he’d consumed, were throwing off his balance.

He finally made it to the facilities and staggered through the door. …

The lullaby of the waves rolling in on the beach and the salty aroma in the air partner up on me and I’m soon drifting off. I slide my ball cap down over my eyes, and together with my Blues Brothers Ray-bans, and the shade of this palm tree, the tropical sun doesn’t have a chance of keeping me awake. The ice and snow of Chicago are a million miles away.

Zzzzt… zzzzt… zzzzt… zzzzt…

Don’t pick that phone up. Let it lay there on your chest. Let it go to voicemail. Don’t you do it.

I pick up the…

Photo by Whereslugo

I still have all your pictures on my phone. I won’t be deleting them any time soon. Probably never.

I have my favorites. I know, I know I told you this. But I have news. I printed a couple of them. Framed them up real nice. One is them is from last summer at the lake, in the boat. I love how you pulled your sunglasses down just enough so the camera could see your eyes. I always loved your eyes. I know. I’ve told you that too.

The other is the selfie I took of us in the back…

Lit Up — June’s Prompt: Lucky sentence

Photo by Murbariz Mehdizadeh

“It was her boyfriend’s pale hand protruding from his sleeve.” — Memoirs of a Geisha

It was her boyfriend’s pale hand protruding from his sleeve.

Not actual T-rex arms. He liked to pull his elbows up into his shirt with just his hands protruding and walk around saying, “I am T-rex. King of the dinosaurs!”

“I’m dating an idiot,” she said, unable to hold back a smile.

“Thanks for telling me. Do I know him?” Damon replied, pulling his arms out of his shirtsleeves.

“Look in the mirror,” Tessa shot back as she stepped out of the room.

Damon gave…

A Father’s Day Poem from a father’s perspective

Photo from Unsplash

I watched you enter this world

Pink and screaming and beautiful

I watched them clean you up and place you at your mother’s breast

My darling wife and my baby girl. A family

I worked sixty hours a week to support you

I helped your mother teach you right from wrong

I put band-aids on your knees and flowers in your hair.

I read you stories till your eyes grew weary

I missed some of your moments growing up because I was busy at work

It’s a sadness I will carry with me but I had to do it.


April is Autism Awareness Month

I want to say I love you

But I can’t

My words have been stricken from me

Taken, perhaps is more accurate

Taken from me by Autism

The deepest love that I feel for you

Must remain forever unspoken

For I cannot form those three simple words

I love you

The fact that I can never tell the world

Of my boundless love for you

Saddens me beyond your comprehension

I may laugh at your jokes

And cry with you for your losses

But I am struck mute

And cannot utter those three simple words

I love you

I know…

“We could get married.”

“Oh, now there’s a proposal for you.” Jenna turned and showed Andrew her back. “That’s not exactly how I dreamed of this moment. Just so you know.”

“C’mon. What do you want me to say? They said only spouses. No girlfriends. I don’t have a choice.”

“Bullshit. You have a choice,” Jenna replied, her back still to Andrew. “You could say no.”

“And not go?” Andrew stepped around Jenna to face her. She turned her back to him again. In the glimpse he got of her face, he saw her tears.

Waterworks. Christ.

“I can’t believe…

Lit up Mad March Microfiction

Photo by John Michael

The nights are the worst. Every night I watch the sun go down and I curse the darkness. After so many years and so much therapy and so many different meds, you’d think I’d have this under control. But I don’t. Not even close.

The clock on my stand reads 2:47am and I haven’t slept a wink. Two double shots of Jack to wash down a double shot of Prozac sometimes will do the trick. Not tonight.

I’m no big baby who’s afraid of the dark. If you haven’t been there, you don’t get it. You see we owned the…

Photo by Alejandra Quinoz

Read Part I

REO Speedwagon was hot in 1981. So were Laura and I. We were one of the It couples of the senior class. From the moment we met, we fell for each other and fell hard. I’d never told a girl that I loved her, but with Laura, it happened fast and it just came easy. I can still remember the first time I reached for her hand as we walked to Civics class. She took it and gave it a squeeze and my heart screamed.

I would pick her up every morning, bring her to school and walk her to…

Pat Link

Writer of heartfelt tales.

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