Ordinary Handsome: Night sounds

The wind had picked up a little, but I didn’t feel it. It was pushing the dry leaves around, moving the workshop door back and forth without sound.

I wanted to see if the floor was still stained. I don’t know why. In all suffering, there is blood, and I wanted to see if it was still there. I knew it wouldn’t be. Men like Kincaid always cover up their stupid excesses, and then trip over their vanities.

I heard a pickup truck rumbling a couple of blocks away and almost lost my nerve. But then it faded off, its engine misfiring, its muffler full of holes.

I walked over to the workshop. The sound of the old truck managed to calm me down. There was still life in Handsome, though it was fading out like a radio signal. I wasn’t all alone.

The grass was overgrown and I heard it rub against my shoes. The ground was spongy like a soft linoleum floor. There was enough dew on the grass to leave images of my footprints behind.

OrdinaryHandsomeII

Excerpt from Ordinary Handsome. Available at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00P46ZPA0

Free downloadable Kindle app also available.

Ordinary Handsome: Burial grounds

When he tripped over what appeared to be a ribcage, Ricky clutched his Nikon close to his chest. He saw the bones and wondered if a ground angle shot would work best. Maybe a shallow focus. The light was thin and the shadows were heavy, but….

And then he realized these were human bones. His first thought was that he had discovered a deer carcass. Up close and at ground level, he understood.

A few feet away, there were even more bones: a femur, a dissevered pelvis, a skull. The skull had been shattered, and the remaining bones were weathered and splintered, stained an ugly corrosive brown. They were scraped and punctured by teeth. The ground around him was a makeshift burial circle.

OrdinaryHandsomeII

Excerpt from Ordinary Handsome. Available at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00P46ZPA0

Free downloadable Kindle app also available.

Ordinary Handsome: Dreams

Time slipped away, like it always does, and life got in the way. And so it is with everyone who leaves a crumpled dollar bill on the counter of my bar. For every “trade her in for a new Cadillac, maybe next summer,” there’s another greasy sawbuck in my cash drawer.

And I can’t say I never had dreams for myself. I always thought I’d sell The Handsome when I reached a good age, build myself a little cabin somewhere (far away from Handsome) and give the rest to Euart. If he wanted that little plot of land to build on, that would be fine, but I wanted him to go to school and learn there was more to this world than a two bedroom apartment above a matchstick hotel.

Dreams, like I said, aren’t something you bank on, just something to get you through each useless day.

OrdinaryHandsomeII

Excerpt from Ordinary Handsome. Available at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00P46ZPA0

Free downloadable Kindle app also available.

Family Anatomy: Cousin Ruth

The fire at my grandparents’ home changed the dynamics of everything. Rooms were rearranged to accommodate Grandpa Wilson, plans diverted, schedules rescheduled. And with the arrival of Cousin Ruth, the upheaval was a little off-putting. I was shuffled to the smallest room in the house, a cramped storage room in the back that was reconfigured with a bed and a night table and little else. It was comfortable, but always dark as there were no windows. There was a small plywood shelf above my bed where I kept a few comic books and a flashlight. But otherwise, it still smelled like a storage room, of mold-stained cardboard boxes and old trampled-upon sawdust. Continue reading Family Anatomy: Cousin Ruth