"The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones" Mark Anthony/Julius Caesar, Act 3, Scene 2 * It was the dump truck that made me cry first. I just dropped off a pitbull puppy at ACS here in San Antonio, Texas, and I've been crying since I let her off the leash to the handler ther...
He sits upon the wobbly old picnic table, a cigarette jutting from between his lips. It seems that there is always a cigarette resting there anymore. He had managed to quit for six months before all of this had started, and had been rather proud of that. Now, all that work had been for nothing. He knows that he needs to quit again but he also knows that this...
The date begins with a long embrace and simple kiss where he is graced with the opportunity to briefly get to know the most amazingly indescribable lips. It provides a glimpse into what promises to be a very special night. They go out to a nice, romantic dinner where he sits across from her so he can gaze into her gorgeous blue eyes, like getting lost in the...
The ceremony was to take place on the hill crest on the manor grounds. Five black flags, each encrusted with gold etching were placed in a semi-circle around a similarly decorated alter. The alter was made to look like the bottom half of a coffin; a flattened body pillow covered in gold satin was placed on the alter top. Red rose petals were sprinkled on it...
It just stood there. Not a care in the world. Shamelessly soliciting its' wares. 'For Sale' it screamed. So vulgar. Had it no decency? What a slut. Grant stood beneath the sign. The description of standing may have been sympathetic. His legs gave the merest nod to the concept while his frame sought solace from gravity against the garden wall. A distant pass...
To the reader: There is no sex in this story. It's the story of a brief encounter between two men at the gravesite of the woman they both loved, each in their own way. Please remember, this is fiction. ******** "Grant your forgiveness oh Lord, to the soul of your servant Samantha that, being dead to this world, she may live now to you alone, and whatever s...
If you think you have a complicated life, you should really walk a mile in my shoes. A lot of people say that. I actually mean it. My name is Ramon Hamilton Costa. I was born in the City of Los Angeles, California. The son of a Spanish immigrant father and African-American mother. My father Ernesto Costa died shortly before my birth, leaving my mother Theres...
I bought a gun small enough to hide under the skirt of my sundress- and a lot of ammo for practice since I'd never actually fired a gun before. I had tried to go back to school after the attempt on my life, only to find that my "uncle" had been looking for me. Somehow Demetri knew I was still alive. So I took what little money I had and made plans to sta...
Disclaimer: This is a work of pure fiction. In tribute to Halloween, I have very loosely based the premise of this story on the cancelled Showtime TV show, DEAD LIKE ME, whose premise I always found witty and a quirky look at life after death. The characters in this story as well as the writing are all my own creation, however the basic ideas were adapted f...
Chapter 03: Shea "Room 147. It's right up those stairs. Take a left at the end of the corridor. Here's your key. Enjoy your stay." The lines came out of Shea's mouth automatically by now, her delivery monotone as she let the slightly bent key ring fall into the outstretched hand of her customer. The edge of her hand brushed his thumb for a moment, making h...