Category Archives: Fiction

I Didn’t Do It

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Image: Unknown | Graphic Design: Greg Glazebrook @ GMGCreative.

I Didn’t Do It

It had been a long night. The club manager demanded she stay, a plaything for some VIP clients who were looking for more than drinks and dances. Saying “No” was never an option, at least she’d earn some extra cash but it meant her boy would be alone. The sitter couldn’t stay any later, she had to get to her own job in the morning. Hopefully, he’d sleep in and not notice she was missing.

Tired, sore and feeling dirty and used she pushed on the small door that swung inwards revealing the tenement flat she called home. Exhausted, she stepped inside and as she approached him, fear flashed in his eyes. He dropped the gun on the sofa and told her he didn’t do it.

Strewn across the milk crate coffee table and old worn couch she’d salvaged from the dumpster out back lay her old photo albums. The pages were torn and set adrift in a sea of unwashed dishes, an overflowing ashtray, and other shit. Every picture had been removed and hot-glued to the furniture and walls of their one-room prison. Surreal, the scene played like a 3D movie around her. Their tiny life illuminated in the orange and yellow glow of sunrise streaming in bands through the bars of the apartments only window.

“I know,” she said. How could she be angry with him, it wasn’t his fault. Her knees buckled as a wave of guilt and shame crashed into her, taking her breath and making it difficult to draw another. She wrapped her arms around her seven-year-old miracle and began to sob.

He squeezed back and said, “It’s going to be okay Mommy. Please don’t cry.”

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Dad’s Lessons

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Unknown / Post-processing by Greg Glazebrook @ GMGCreative

Dad’s Lessons

The summer of ’63. Jinny and I talk about running off in that old Sharknose Ford. God knows what we’d have gotten up to in the flatbed. Me, a sixteen-year-old life support system for a boner and Jinny completely smitten. Nothing good could have come from two teenagers high on the hormones of youth.

“Patience,” he’d say gripping the keys in his dirt-stained hands. “You’ll be the driver someday.”

God knows where we’d be if he’d let us run wild. Dad’s gone but Jinny and me still look something spectacular sitting in the front seat of that old truck.

Unknown / Composite image created by Greg Glazebrook @ GMGCreative
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What Are the Chances?

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0fjd125gk87 via Pixabay

What Are the Chances?

“Turn off the transporter beam Umek, and put this thing in cloak mode,” Temu said while shielding its six eyes and looking away from the lonely soul standing on the side of an old Earth road.

“What don’t you think he can see you?” Umek shot back, “You are a humongous moron.”

 “Whatever, just get us the hell out of here!”

“Awwww, come on, he looks like he needs a lift and we could use some company. Besides, if he turns out to be a dick we can just drop him off at the next galaxy.”

“Are you nuts, we ain’t no bleepin’ Galactic Uber service. Did you not read the sign we passed about a parsec back?”

“What are the chances…”

“…that he’s a bloody axe murderer! I’d rather not find out.” Temu interrupted.

After a brief pause, Umek continued, “…where is your sense of adventure, aren’t you getting sick of being trapped in this tin can with me yet?”

“You have no idea…”

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Contextus Indignus

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Unknown

Contextus Indignus

Thomas sat at the table with his head in his hands, years of hard work and dedication hung in the balance.

He was still the highest-grossing salesperson in the organization, his stature legendary after 35 years of service.

They called him Easter Sunday because no one could resurrect a lost deal like he could, bringing opportunity back from the dead as if it were Jesus on the third day.

Sure, he’d been handsomely compensated for his efforts, but he’d made more money for this Corporation than anyone could count; single-handedly lifting it from its Mom and Pop beginnings to a giant of the industry.

Defunct of any reason the Director of Human Resources stared at him with shame and disgust, they no longer saw him as a giant but an out-of-touch dinosaur.

He tried to explain that it was a simple misunderstanding, the word gay had once meant happy, but it was too late, the damage was done; guilty in the court of public opinion he watched as his life swirled about the room before being flushed down the elevator and out the back door – left holding nothing but a single box of his belonging.

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Missing

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Viktor Forgacs via Unsplash

Missing

Mary Two Rivers stood quietly in the place along the edge of the reservation she’d come to so often, the band Chief agreeing to one last visit even as the heavy machinery roared around her.

The pain had not softened in the years since her Emily, the dark-haired girl with a spirit set alight by a spark from the Creator’s fire, had been taken.

The worn and weathered doll she’d been gifted by the widow from the secondhand shop in town, herself long since dead, marked the last known location of the girl who’d vanished some 21 years earlier.

In a few short hours, the landmarks that provided Mary with the last links to her baby’s existence would be erased in the name of progress; another girl added to the list of the forgotten.

There is an epidemic across North America that has seen tens of thousands of Aboriginal women and girls murdered or go missing. In Canada that number is about 1200 since 1980 however it is believed to be much higher as many cases are never reported or reported incorrectly. Information on Canada’s Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls can be found at MMIWG.

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16. Revenge: The Captive Soul

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16-1. Revenge: The Captive Soul (Followed)

Inez always came to mind in the aftermath of one of his excursions. What would she say, he thought.

Across town, his former lover walked along the trail from town. She sensed its presence, a shiver running up her spine. The treetops rustled and swayed overhead as if something was tracking her, waiting for an opening to swoop down. She hurried her step…

Unknown

16-2. Revenge: The Captive Soul (Revealed)

Breathtaking, like the air had been removed. She gasped as it settled behind her.

Deleece Cook vis Unsplash

16-3. Revenge: The Captive Soul (Understanding)

Inez awoke in her bedroom. She could feel Charles’ fingerprint on the woman sitting beside her.

“I didn’t know!” She blurted out in fear.

“Perhaps, but you sensed the potential that lay within, even showed great enterprise in controlling it for a while” Lilith’s eyes darted to the beast. “I mean no harm but you have something I need.” She said as the beast set the box down next to Inez.

“The Ring?”

Unknown

16-4. Revenge: The Captive Soul (Secret)

Inez didn’t know the ring’s secret but she could see the beast, clad in its coat of mail, flinch as she reached for it.

“Yes,” said Lilith, “but it’s more, I need you to help stop him.”

The Revenge Series

<< 15. Revenge: The Morning After

17. Coming Soon >>

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15. Revenge: The Morning After

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Content Warning: Contains graphic sexual violence. Reader discretion is advised.

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15. Revenge: The Morning After

It was only 10:00am, but it felt like midnight. With self-loathing, he replayed every detail. Paralyzed yet conscious as each button released between his fingers, her body twitching as his hand pursed her thigh. Charlie had grown accustomed to the spasms, a side effect of the sedative.

He recalled the first time it happened. Startled, he instinctually pounced, wrapping his hands around the woman’s neck. Letting go after confirming she hadn’t woken and watching the bruises darken through the night. The next morning he could hear gravel in her voice as she fled.

The Revenge Series

<< 14. Revenge: Reluctant Voyeur

16. Revenge: The Captive Soul >>

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Vitamin D

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Unknown

Vitamin D

Edelman lay on the beach basking in the glow of the midday sun. I watched the suntan oil sizzling on his skin as he explained that skin cancer was a fallacy spread by big pharma and the government. Although unclear on the motive he insisted it was connected to vitamin D production and much more sinister than profits and corporate greed.

The conversation slowly turned from conspiracy to a sales pitch. I’m not certain what he was trying to sell but he insisted that he took care of himself and explained that his vitamin D was silky smooth and creamy like milk.

“Would you like a…”

I was certain he was going to say ‘taste’ but just as the words should have been escaping his lips a couple of spry young punks kicked up sand into his face as they ran past. I wasn’t spared as the spray shot across my mid-rift and into my bikini. As I moved I could feel the grit chaff against the tits.

Edelman was spitting sand (and venom) as he jumped up and took pursuit. He was a hulking man with muscles popping out everywhere and washboard abs that would make Dwayne Johnson swoon. What a marvellous specimen I thought as I stood up. I tugged at the bottom of my bikini top while bouncing up and down. Hundreds of lucky white granules fell to the ground as the related ruckus erupted just up the beach. Those poor lads weren’t going to know what had hit them.

I picked up my towel and headed in the other direction. Sure he may have been a smoke show but thank God I wouldn’t have to hear about vitamin D any longer.

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Love Assassin

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Unknown

Love Assassin

He peeked around the door frame, “Have a great day, my stud!”

I urgently pleaded, “Screw it all Evan and come back to bed.”

“I can’t, you know the re-election plan…” And with that, he locked me into his ‘closet.’

I pulled the sheets to my face and inhaled deeply, trying to salvage any remnants of last night.

Ka-chick! Ka-chick! Ka-chick! The silence was shattered by a thousand cameras popping like machine gun fire along the frontlines.

In the street, a fundamental conservative persona lay bleeding and battered. Did he really think I was going to keep him secret?

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Butch and the Illusionist (Part 2)

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Butch and the Illusionist (Part 2)

“A disguise?” Paisley queried. “You planning another job? Not this train, I hope.”

“Relax, nothing worth taking on this one,” Cassidy said as he turned to his sidekick and gestured for them to leave.

The Sundance Kid stood up, “Come on Etta, let’s get a drink while the boss talks.”

Butch and Paisley watched as Longabaugh and Place passed a drunk entering from the next car. He stumbled down the aisle, a flask of whiskey in hand. As the man got closer Paisley recognized him. Arlo Arbuckle, an old magician who’d been on the circuit for years before Paisley had arrived in the new world. Rumour had it he was once a highly regarded wizard.

Arbuckle raised his flask when he recognized Paisley. Jamison nodded back.

“He with you?” Butch asked as he watched the man drop into a seat three rows away.

“Coincidence, just an old wizard I know. He’s more about the drink than magic these days.”

Butch turned back to Paisley, “You know, I’ve done some things but I’m not getting any younger. Harry and I are looking to head south, like South America south. maybe Argentina or somewhere no one will find us. Etta’s getting tired of the fugitive life and Harry promised to settle down, maybe do some ranching.”

“So why the disguise?”

“You know, Harry will be fine but out there but the Pinkerton Detective Agency won’t let me rest.”

“So you want a new identity? Leave Robert Parker behind in America?”

“Something like that but I need to be dead or they will keep hunting. Even now they are getting ready to meet us when we disembark in New York.”

“I’m sure I can conjure up something crude to get you through the crowd undetected. Once we are somewhere I can work we can do something a little more permanent. You’ll be a new man by the time you board passage to Buenos Aries.”

“No Jamison, I need something permanent. America needs to believe that Butch Cassidy of the notorious Wild Bunch is dead or in prison. I want my end posted on the front page of every ink-stained rag in the Union.

“What did you have in mind, Butch?”

“I want you to conjure up a perfect copy of me, identical in every way. The slightest irregularity will sow a seed of doubt. When I, well my doppelganger, gets off this train the Pinkertons need to believe it’s me and the minute that unsuspecting sod flinches… well you can figure the rest out for yourself.”

“You are asking me to sacrifice another passenger? I’ve done some messed up shit Butch but even if it were possible, which it is not, I’d be sentencing someone to death out on that platform.”

“…and I’d slip out the back a changed man, free, never to rob another train or take another life again.” He placed a satchel full of enough money to take me back to Europe, or across the world to Australia on the seat across from him. I’d be able to escape the restrictive laws America places on witches and warlocks. Go somewhere I could use all of my talents. I’d be free.

To be continued…

Butch and the Illusionist

<< Part 1

Part 3 Coming Soon >>

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