Stories tagged bar


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This was a dream in which I didn’t know fear.

Dog Horse Man

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His appearance had never suggested health, but his body had once been fleshy, his skin pale and soft because he never went outside in the daytime.

She Used to Have Nails

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...the job was easy, just pour and deliver, pour and deliver.


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your leather jacket zip has left a row of teethmarks on her arm


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I like him. I really, really like him in a way that I don’t like guys, not anymore, not after all the dirty lies into get in my pants, the dirtier lies to get out of them later, the indignities and the humiliations and the disappointments.

That'd Kill Ol' Bob

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I step over a big black dog that's sprawled, fast asleep, across the doorway. “Best to let sleeping dogs lie,” I think, but the snoring dog doesn't budge. Clouds of tobacco smoke hang in the air and mix with the glow from neon bar signs, illuminating the …

At the Christmas Carol Bar

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I’ll take my Christmas carols neat-

Into the Heart of the Night

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“Whatever,” Bill says, pulling on a pair of new jeans. “All I’m sayin’ is these are my lucky drawers. Then it’s straight back to my room and my water bed and rubber sheets with ‘Get Down’ written on them. You coming out with us tonight?”

Getting Stood Up

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"Sorry, I need to confirm the results." Sal turned to Paul. "Is it true that you got stood up?"

The Tragically Short Life of the American Barfly

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That is then and the devil reigns in the here and now. Tonight I am the barfly and tomorrow I die.

That’d Kill Ol’ Bob

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A monstrous black dog slumbers in the doorway, still as a volcano. I step around him. An old folk saying about sleeping dogs tickles my brain like a coyote yelping on a moonlit night. Strands of smoke curl into fluorescent gossamer in the neon glow and cast a…

Sunday Afternoon, Chez Ammad's

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And then the fists were flying and because the bar is so damn small, the bar stools fell over, and the tables caught them, and the drinks fell to the floor and the two men grappled, half in the bar, half on the street.


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The bar sounds grew (as bar sounds will) until everything rushed together -- clinking glass, tinkling ice, laughter and zippers going down then up.

Stuffed Shirt

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It was the losers’ bar in my neighborhood.


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A rose and two dollars. Where did they come from? I didn't know anyone who had visited my parents' grave recently, yet that evening I saw a white rose on my mother's side and two bucks on my father's. I took the money and placed my own flowers with the rose. It had to have…