-+-{Lincoln's Pride}-+- .-'[Part 9]'-. "All right then, Link?" Bren asked as he came to sit by me on the ledge of the hot tub against the wall with a towel of his own. The cool tile felt nice against my warm skin. I looked up and saw Kamal and Samir had left us. Bren smiled at me hopefully. "Sorry I got you in trouble. I didn't mean to do that," I sai...
Long time no see. I know. I'm sorry. Things got hard, and it felt too strange to escape to a world where the power of the sea was such a romanticized thing while I watched so much of my country disappear into a hurricane. Anyway. Have some sailors, and remember love. Imagine what trust feels like when you carry it in a place deeper than your bones. Alte...
[This is a completed, three-chapter novella, which will complete posting by 20 December 2017.] ***** I had waited patiently through three watered-down drinks in the downstairs club on Chelsea's 22nd Street, waiting for him to come out to dance the pole. I had glimpsed him coming out to do his number the last time I'd been in the bar. But it had been late a...
I am fairly certain my father knew there was more to my being apprenticed to the Dutch munitions broker Fons Hertzog when I arrived in Cape Town from London then learning a merchant's trade. He was being protective of me, I'm sure, the Great War having broken out the previous summer in Europe with the assassination of the archduke. With the war only enlargi...
AUTHOR'S NOTE: You will probably enjoy this story much more if you have already read the series Chris Donaldson, as well as Chapters 1-2 of Mr. One Fifty-Eight. The characters' back stories are revealed there. All characters depicted in this story are over 18. ***** They stood in the airless trailer, sweating: the beefy, muscular, clean-shaven man, and t...
Things in the House of Shame get stranger and more extreme. But there's change here, as well as continuity. My first terror came when - after three months, Dean was paroled, and I was suddenly alone. There was no warning, no advance intimation, I just entered the dorm, and his bed was stripped, his things were gone, the sheets neatly folded and placed on th...
My name is Pete, and I'm going to tell you a story. Now, It might be long, but I like to think its a good one. The thing about most good stories though, is that you rarely know when when ones begun, until you're already in too deep. Chapters have unfolded, and you feel like you've almost reached the end. If you're lucky, you start to realize what it was al...
I stepped back from the sidewalk, hugging my arms close to my sides, and leaned back on the wall at the corner into the alley, raising one leg, knee bent, and my cowboy booted foot flat against the wall. The hole in the sole of that boot was worn clean through and the cold of the wall wasn't as cold as that of the sidewalk pavement. Besides, it was a good po...
"You need to eat more," Lynn said from across the table, slapping more potato salad on my plate. "You look like an Ethiopian poster child." "He is thinner than usual," Alan agreed. I stared down at my pale, scrawny legs drowning in Sid's baggy old swim trunks. Fuck. What a boost to my self-esteem. I moved the chicken leg to the other side of my plate the...
(Author's Note: The characters in this feature are entirely fictional. Any similarities to actual persons are coincidental and should not be construed as actual portrayals. That said, I hope you enjoy the story.) It was early summer between my freshman and sophomore years in college. I had met Dylan just four months earlier in Microeconomics class -- a subj...