She used to march right in front of me, her feet waddling a bit as she remained one step ahead of me for one glorious hour after another. She played bass clarinet. I played French horn. And in my freshman year of high school, we marched in every parade. She had daisy blonde hair that … Continue reading A Sudden Change
Two Bravo Delta
When people asked Grant Lambert what he did for a living he always said this: "I do what other people don't know how to. And even if they did, they wouldn't want to." There had been that one time when a cop had pulled back his jacked to reveal a Glock holstered to his hip. … Continue reading Two Bravo Delta
Switchblade
Jack pushed open the glass door expecting to tell his crew what had happened. Instead, he met a wall of voices and clatter. Keyboards clacked, monitors blazed and people chattered on headsets. Branson was already on his feet, walking towards him. Jack rolled his eyes. Branson grabbed Jack by the elbow and pulled him back … Continue reading Switchblade
Tangerine
It was a damn mess. Jack Harley straightened his tie, but couldn't keep the November wind from flapping it to the side. He flicked his hands away in disgust, rebuttoned his suit jacket and walked briskly across wet pavement towards the flashing lights, yellow tape and cops milling around a Dumpster with flashlights. He forced … Continue reading Tangerine
A Hard Deal
Before he even rounded the bend, Grant knew it was over. Just from the ghosts of red flashing lights scampering through the bushes, he could picture the scene. She had been a sudden walk away and now it was too late. As he rounded the bend and the flashing red lights stabbed through his windshield, … Continue reading A Hard Deal
Helot
He walked into the house with his shield grip in his left hand and his Dory rifle in his right. A thin black crest of charred residue lined the muzzle of the Dory and smoke still seeped from the barrel. Dirt, smoke, blood and blast marks covered the weapon like a tapestry flung onto a … Continue reading Helot
box in snow
It was a box in the snow. It lay open beneath a tree, its flaps draped at its side, wrinkled and sagging with ice. Eagerly awaiting for somebody to put something inside. For this is what box did. The last time it had been useful, it lay on the floor beneath a Christmas tree. Prim … Continue reading box in snow
Michael J Lawrence 