“What’s in a year?” she asks me.
Strange question coming from nowhere. I look up. She’s young, not that young, but younger. And pretty. I’m not dead.
Everybody’s younger than me, seems. She’s wearing jeans; designer, naturally; and a tight tee shirt accentuates her jut points. She’s a bottle blond. Oh well.
I think all you need to become common is do what everybody else in your crowd does. Wonder if she knows that.
It’s late in the day, the sun about to set, and…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on May 28, 2016 at 8:18am — No Comments
Harry sauntered down Brooklyn’s Spencer Street with his hands in his brown corduroy pants pockets. His new blue shirt felt a little scratchy under his parka, but it looked super. That’s what Mama told him. One of the tails of the shirt hung out a little. Mama said he should hurry, but the nice day with blue sky and a few white puffy clouds slowed his steps. He could see the boys playing catch or something way down at the end of the block. They looked like little sticks, like ants.
Added by Richard O. Benton on May 21, 2016 at 8:40am — No Comments
Ten years. How time flies. I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear you are dying. No one deserves it more. I almost didn’t write you, but soon enough I would be left to my regrets and you would be in the ground and all I could do is spit on your grave. This is better because I can stick it in your craw while you can still feel pain and you can’t do anything about it.
Hope you believe in Hell, Sarge, because personally, I hope you rot there. Just thinking of the…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on May 14, 2016 at 4:47am — No Comments
July 12th dawned gray, and with the prospect of rain my mood likely wouldn’t improve. My brain didn’t let me sleep much, something I dealt with pretty much daily. I knew what was coming.
I eased out from under my covers, glanced at Lori’s womanly form on her side, a bulk of smooth hip under the green floral spread raising the covers like a rounded hill of grass that deepened into a valley only to rise subtly, dip and rise again. Mussed gray hair peeked out, cupping her lined but…Continue
Added by Richard O. Benton on May 7, 2016 at 8:13am — No Comments