Short Fiction

Jews

Posted by on 6:47 pm in ShortFiction | 1 comment

I knew these words in grade school. They were in the air, but never used in my home.

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Plum Beach

Posted by on 6:40 pm in ShortFiction | 0 comments

“We’re all goin’ ta Plum Beach. Doya wanna come, Carol Ann?” “Who else is goin’?”

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Shelter the Homeless

Posted by on 6:36 pm in ShortFiction | 0 comments

The commune started in the mid-sixties on two hundred acres outside of Ukiah. Meals were free.

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Feed the Hungry

Posted by on 6:32 pm in ShortFiction | 0 comments

The temperature inside the first freezer was 35 degrees Fahrenheit; inside the second it was zero. Alex didn’t move his arms; he had pinned them to his body.

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Bury the Dead

Posted by on 6:47 pm in ShortFiction | 0 comments

Bubba John rolled over. “Hey, Little Man. How about some help here?”

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Heal the Sick

Posted by on 6:42 pm in ShortFiction | 0 comments

The fifth member of the group of homeless people at the band shell the others called “The Doctor.” Phillip Turnowski was originally from Duluth, Minnesota, and had a successful ophthalmological practice until some bad investments left him bankrupt and without a wife.

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Ransom the Captive

Posted by on 6:31 pm in ShortFiction | 0 comments

“Shugah, show you be my little man. You my little man. Mama love you. Always gonna love ya, little man.”

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That’s Not Who I Am

Posted by on 8:57 pm in ShortFiction | 0 comments

That Saint Paddy’s day, we were up in the attic, Liam, Bernadette and me.

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The Scientific Sit Up

Posted by on 6:32 pm in ShortFiction | 0 comments

Joey Muscles could throw the farthest and the hardest. None of us was fast, but maybe Vinnie was the fastest.

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The Death of Rob O’Rafferty

Posted by on 6:30 pm in ShortFiction | 0 comments

On a Sunday, you’d see them lined up on the sidewalk, waiting for the oldest, Sean, to lead them to St. Ephrem’s and the nine-thirty mass.

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