Brent’s emails propagated like starving sewer rats. He didn’t need confirmation from dozens of emails to tell him that. With Old Man Bodnar himself upstairs in his massive fifth-floor corner office about to cash in his chips from stage four pancreatic cancer, Brent Hoyleman champed at the bit to replace …

“I can’t see anything in here,” complained fourteen-year-old Cliff, peering around the shadowy interior of the boarded-up house, his best friend Ed standing passively by his side. “You will in a minute!” laughed his six-year-old brother, running out of the house with his pal Sparks, slamming the door and locking …

Deacon clutched the wheel of the black Viper. It was a clear summer night in Denver. The job was a snooze, but it was Deacon’s last and that had him thinking. What he had going for him is most last jobs aren’t chosen, and he’d been pulling jobs for a …

The promise of cinnamon rolls had him in a good mood, otherwise he would have dropped the guy right there in the checkout line. Five people stood ahead of him, all staring at their feet and afraid to make eye contact. Only Sam had. Fucking moron. He’d looked right at …

She holds the gun in both hands. She has no idea how it got there. She hears the steps on the cabin deck. “Jo? It’s Matt. Can I come in?” There’s a smell in the air. She likes the way it tickles her nose and makes her want to sneeze. …

Music came from across the aisle. I wasn’t easily offended, but I was hyper aware. The spring clip that kept my sour cream and onion chips closed was a yellow duckie. “What?” she said. “Would you like to borrow these?” I asked. I had them in my hand. Earbuds. Practically …

I wipe beads of sweat from my temple, my eyes straining from the intricate task of chiselling the image of a little girl. It needs to be just right. When I work, time stops. The world around disappears; I’m blind and deaf. And there’s nothing like the feeling of turning …

The sun is blinding and my shades are just beyond my reach. A breeze kicks up and cools my damp skin. It feels good. The tree limbs sway and groan and through their leaves I can see some birds circling. Carrion birds maybe. They smell death. Just waiting me out. …

“It’s a beautiful day,” I muse aloud. “Couldn’t ask for better picnic weather.” The breeze floats lazily across the hillside as the sun beats down. We sit together beneath the shade tree, as we do every Sunday after church. “I know you always enjoyed the spring. It’s certainly been a …

The smell of body odor permeated the bowling alley. My date was looking good — magenta eye shadow and a green, glittery scrunchie holding up her hair in a wild side-pony. “So you work at Foot Locker, huh?” I asked as I laced up my clownish bowling shoes. We were in one …