Maple Springs was the sort of place that most folks passed through on their way to somewhere else. It was a small town situated ten miles from the Canadian border, quite a distance from Utah, consisting of just three buildings. Jailhouse, bell tower and a saloon bar. It had been Sheriff William Cain's home for the past five years. As Cain strolled into tow...
It was the place, hell the only place in town where you could get a decent bite to eat, a good stiff drink, or find a bit of music to dance to. Not a fancy place, but the wood plank floors were scrubbed clean every night and, believe it or not, each morning when it opened the kitchen sparkled. During the course of the day though, the incessant wind would bri...
I was alone in a corner of the bar, watching the foam slide down the inside slope of my beer bottle as I slowly tilted it down from a desultory swig, when she came through the door out of the rain. With red hair dampened from the weather and a gorgeously full bosom tenting the chest of her too-thin coat, she would have stood out anywhere. In the dim squalor...
This is an entry in Lit's Winter Story Contest 2006. It's more-or-less a Romance. There's some talk about sex, but the only real action is a fairly brutal fight. Consider yourself warned. == A weary Seeburg Select-O-Matic jukebox crouched beside the front door of The Rebel Yell. The tenth playing that evening of "Please Come Home For Christmas" was just e...
It is an unseasonably warm fall evening. The near full moon hangs low on the horizon, casting an eerie glow upon the earth. Long strange shadows dance about as a cool gusty breeze rustles the leaves in the trees. I am walking briskly to my car, hastily removing my camel hair sport coat and loosening my tie in an effort to bring closure to this hideous day....
I'm driving down the dark road in the early evening in an unfamiliar area of New Jersey, listening to the heavy rain pound across my roof and windshield. The CD is playing some old Neil Young and I'm singing along, slipping into a melancholy mood. As I cruise along at a very slow pace, watching for potholes and little critters on this very dark back road, I...
The Electric Dollhouse used to be a strip club in a rural area, not far from a large university. It was far enough off-campus that not many college students went there. They'd rather drink nickel beers and stare at the coeds than pay five bucks cover charge, five more for the beer and then have to tip a few dollars an hour or get the cold shoulder from the d...
I remember when I first met him and wanted him from the start. He would come into my mom's bar and visit with everyone while I was working. Then when my mom came to work in the evening I would leave hoping he would follow me out the door but he never did. Until one day I was sitting around the table and had to get up periodically to serve beer to the custom...
(sorry folks...this is the first part of the story..posted on another website and it got all mixed up.) Melissa stands before her bedroom mirrors admiring herself. Long ago, Melissa had covered all the walls in her bedroom with mirrors because she loved to look at herself. She is getting ready to go to Charlie's Bar. It's her Friday night ritual to help her...
Short and sweet for Summer Lovin 2020. It's my first ever contest submission and is inspired by a true story and some great memories. * Back in the Summer of '87, my dad took me and my brother to a resort in Wisconsin for a week's vacation. I was just a 13-year-old kid and wasn't really looking forward to missing sandlot baseball games in favor of fishing...