108 0 0
|
"They can sew them back on, you big baby."
Gerri held a pint glass full of ice, two gray fingertips poking out of it like Vienna sausages.Not a drink you'll find in Mr. Boston's guide. Not one we serve at the Deuce, and we're a punk club.
|
9144
|
Firecracker. That's what I called the wife. A short fireplug of a gal with sass. A tilt to her hip and a look in her eye that'd freeze your jewels on the Fourth of July.
|
147433
|
Marie shrugs. “Maybe she’s just late. Come on, let's wait by the jungle gym.” She runs over and starts climbing. The jungle gym is closest to the path that goes into the woods and down into the canyon. She has to get him into the woods somehow.
|
142200
|
A human cop and a cyborg detective team up to solve a case. A sci-fi-pulp-noir-detective story.
|
38384
|
I remember my blood tasting the same then as it does now: Bitter and rich like Guinness. There was music in the way he hit me. My ears would ring well into the next day when he was sober enough to strike true. When the bottle robbed him of that, he made u
|
161500
|
That I own one of the world's largest collections of occult references, including a clutch of rare and ancient grimoires, ought to suggest I'd have been prepared for the shock. But nothing in my studies left me meaningfully prepared. . .
|
90121
|
The Fat Man took a sip of whiskey, then replaced his glass on the table next to his fedora. …
|
146863
|
She followed the husband. He headed north on seventy two for twelve miles, turned off at exit eighty seven b, slowed, turned, backed into a spot at a convenience store slash gas station, lights on, engine running. Precisely twenty seven minutes by her count,…
|
2078135
|
I'm somewhere on I-10 in Mississippi, barreling westbound at 80 miles an hour through a rainstorm on a late Wednesday afternoon. The last road sign I remember was for Beauvoir, some Confederate general's…
|
27162
|
By the time the temperature was fifteen degrees on a warm day, she still hadn't decided whether to use poison or a pillow.
|
99500
|
There was a bird on the windowsill, a sparrow, its silhouette backlit by a view of Uptown. She remembered many sparrows during her forced trips to Mercy Hospital...That was all over now...
|
107763
|
Her smile like fortune’s cannot be coerced but she opens her peignoir. He stares at the sullen bullethole between her breasts, dark blood welling slowly with each heartbeat. Does he bow slightly, turn away whole? You suppose not. She closes the door.
|
10562
|
Struggling with her on again/off again acting career, she had turned to adopting the Madame Vorka shtick she had once played in that regional dinner theatre.
|
122787
|
I usually idle by Spades Check Cashing on 8th Ave. and catch folks that way. The Homestead cops, they moved stations from a little up Amity to down on 7th, which is closer to Spades, but they leave me alone. I've drove jitneys almost ten years. Only been cited twice,…
|
145676
|
There’s not enough cigarette cloud to conceal her, malnourished and pale beneath blue and pink lights that summon 80s-era skate rinks. She saunters towards the center of the stage, asking her bored expression to convey detachment, while a DJ that fits the
|
