Who is going to make you laugh? Who is going to laugh with you when you crack your silly redneck jokes? It's not going to be me. A week you said. No contact at all you said. Think about if I want you as you are now and let go of you as I want you to be, and you will think about whether "us" is still something you want. I only ever wanted more of you. Is that such a bad thing? A circle. We keep circling around it. It's me...

She fled. The tears tore not just from her soul, but from those who took the time to notice her escape. "How could he cut me that deeply? Preying on my insecurity, preying on my pain," she asked herself. It was a crowded throng. She had thought it was just another date and a walk along the boardwalk, but then..... She fought through the tears back to her car. What went wrong? What did she do? She cries herself to sleep an...

Joyce tapped a pen against the IRS Auditor’s desk nervously. The dark haired auditor was quietly reading from a stack of papers. “So, this year you have worked in twelve states, earning $448,227 dollars from 37,000 some odd hours of work this year.” The pen tapped faster. “Yes, that is correct.” “How many identities have you sold this year?” The pen rattled against the table now. “Just five.” Joyce stopped beating the tab...

This is a public announcement:Spiders are everywhere. You will have no doubt seen them, crawling about. They may appear normal, but they’re far from it. Many of them have evolved to understand our language, and due to our sensitivity about them, are gearing up to wage war upon us. Spiders normally aren’t harmful, until you hurt their feelings. It is the emotional hurt that makes them into monsters. They get angry and atta...

Her face was like thunder. Her familiar open smile was replaced by a thin, grim line of compressed lips and eyes which usually sparkled now flashed like lightning.  Fittingly, rain and unseasonal hail bounced off the restaurant windows as she stared intently into my face. No, she stared at me with piercing blue eyes. I offered a tentative smile and shrug of shoulders. “I mean it,” she said, colour rising to her cheeks. He...

I reached over and turned the radio up as I drove toward the office. At 5 am it was too early to even be awake, much less headed to work, but the boss had called. As his assistant, when he called I answered, anytime of the day or night. Annoying as it could be, the pay was worth it. On this day, I thought about the vacation I had coming up. A friend and I were going to the Bahamas for five days of summer sun and fun. I st...

Rick and I hit it off from the beginning. I first took notice when he was involved in a discussion about cars. Well, not really cars, but a car. A town car. It was an average Thursday crowd with the regulars coming in from work. Dave's Place is near several professional buildings, and there are plenty of computer geeks and engineers that need a drink. "I got her a town car!" he emphasized. He was a new guy sitting with a...

The smell of oranges and roses never ceases to set me back into those years in which I thought I knew happiness. The two together are strange: their scents mingle and twist and frolic in a dance of the beautiful and the divine that I cannot find anywhere else. They weave around each other like daisy chains, flow in and out like calm streams, turn and twist and braid like the hair of a pretty girl I knew once upon a dream....

I have a weakness for pretty girls named Isabel. Not Isabelle, with two l’s slashing through words like paper cuts, nor Isabella, who’s softer sound makes me think of meek and doe-eyed children. Isadora is acceptable, but not preferable. Isabel is the perfect blend of all of these, a gentle tongue-caressing name that swirls around my mouth like pink candy, leaving the taste of sweet sugar on my lips and the scent of child...

She makes me so frustrated it’s almost inhuman. I hate that she smells like strawberries and winter and her complexion is the color of rosebuds in springtime. I hate that she looks just as beautiful in my NFL t-shirt as she does in makeup and a Prada dress. I hate the way her blonde hair glimmers in the sunlight like gold. I hate the way her sea-blue eyes sparkle when she gets happy. I hate the color of her eyes, blue and...

The days leading up to Mother’s Day were miserable. I was about forty months pregnant, or that’s what it seemed like at least. It didn’t help that my ankles were the size of my head and that I ached everywhere. Combine that with the intense heat that Texas was already experiencing and you had the perfect recipe for an epic pity party. I missed my husband. Robert was with the Army’s 1 st Armored Division and stationed at F...

When I was in high school I worked at a grocery store. It was actually closer to a general store. It carried dry goods too, like hats and shirts. Our town had about 500 people. Small town. Everyone knew everyone, eventually. I hadn't lived there long enough to know everyone yet. But I was learning. Ol' man Reed shopped there once a month. He always bought the same things. Mr. Purvis, my boss, had his stuff boxed up ready...

Patrick leaned against the inspector's big white truck. It was a Chevy with an extended bed and cab. "I sold Bruce this truck. I got it from this place where I used to work in Nevada, a place that grew onions. They sprayed the ground there with sulfuric acid. The acid worked against the alkaline salts in the the ground and made the soil so stuff would grow."  Patrick patted the truck as he said. "This was a spray truck. I...

Had it been three months since everything changed? Marcus remembered that day as if it were only yesterday. He got up that morning, same time as always, six sharp. He ate breakfast, fed the cat and took the dog for a walk. It was the same as every morning. The cat, Nemo was a gift from his ex-wife. They had a love hate relationship, the cat and he. Every time he tried to touch the damn creature, Nemo hissed and bit at him...

I love drunk writing because I say things I’d never say sober. I go home early from work because I feel like hell, nothing contagious, don’t worry, you won’t get sick . . . it’s just that monthly woman thing that makes me tired and cranky and pathetic, but beer and tequila makes everything feel alright. Have you ever tried Patron chased by a Blue Moon or two, yea . . . all my worries have faded into a blur of numbness, ye...