“It hurts.” Good. That’s good. “Hurting is good?” Don’t you think so? “I hadn’t thought about it.” Well, why don’t you take the opportunity to think about it now? “I don’t want to.” And why do you think that is? “I told you. It hurts.”

Just another day, so Randy thought, putting his last-minute notes together. Today they have a job scheduled at the farthest end of the city that just happened to be on one of the tallest buildings in the area. We got this he told Buddy, Linc, Parker and Gavon. It ain’t our first rodeo, right? Just our usual bunch of swings and roundabouts. GUTTER CONFUSION was our successful and highly reviewed b...

My new girl likes it when I call her a whore, and my brother tells me if these streets don’t kill us first, they’ll make us strong. He likes to iron money and wear 2XL tall T’s that drape long enough to cover his sagging jeans and conceal his tucked Glock 19, which he brings everywhere. The gun doesn’t have a serial number, and I’ve never seen him use it, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t or won’t. Rusty security bars cover our house's windows, and outside our front door is another door made of steel that’s so heavy and loud it ...

‘We’re running out of time,’ said the wiry youth as he looked out over an increasingly choppy incoming tide from his vantage point at the edge of the cliff. ‘I reckon we’ve less than ten minutes until the rendezvous.’ ‘We better get down there,’ Pedro instructed his three compatriots. They slung their weapons over their shoulders and, with the aid of a single head torch, squeezed into the narrow crevice in the rocks and into the tunnel below. Progress was slow as they followed the markings painted on the rock face.&...

Minor gore and some violence, hints of suicide and related themes“We’re running out of time,” he snarled. “Hurry up.”They lifted their head, wiping sweat from their brow. “Do you want to come dig him up yourself? You’re lucky I’m even helping you!”“Keep your voice down,” he barked, storming towards the shallow hole.Nothing but the moon and stars were there to see the sin they committed, and even then, he felt the world’s judgment. He knew God would never forgive him, but he had long since cared what He thou...

There it was in section 13A of the Times, a one-star review given by Mrs. Marlene Whatley. I pulled the paper close to my face so that I could read the tiny print. I read aloud, “Ed Bulwer takes us on a depressing, self-indulgent journey to nowhere.” My blood was boiling. I couldn’t read any further than the critic’s opening line. “That fucking bitch!” I screamed as I slammed my fist down against my plastic seat.I quick...

Mr. Leery’s hot dog stand greeted the visitors of Chameleon’s Circus with the mouth-watering smell of hot dogs and the eye-catching and colorful disarray of a dozen flags, all hung haphazardly along the cart. Mr. Leery was as colorful as his props, with a dazzling shock of white hair, mismatched socks, a protruding belly, and parachute pants that looked as though they might carry him away. Beyond him, Madam Cyris’ Fortune Telling Tent lay closed against the summer heat, occupied by Madame Cyris herself and one paying...

Madame Vadoma rushed to the door of her parlour, hastily turned around the Closed sign with trembling hands, and then shut it behind her, although the church clock had just rung six times. She stood against the door, trying to calm herself down. The wind was blowing like crazy and the waves crashed angrily against the few houses that dared stand next to the sea. This dreadful weather created more agony, more fea...