Category Archives: short stories

talking to the dead

How would this look on a resume? Criminal psychologist, working as detective – seminary dropout– Irish Catholic background. I smile grimly because this kind of cynicism always contains a germ of truth. My mind continues to play at the game, running … Continue reading

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the grey lady

“An antique coach house? You’ve got to be kidding.” I was staring at Brett Waterston as if he lost his mind, but he just kept on smiling nonchalantly, happily munching on a submarine sandwich. Brett could be maddening, inscrutable as … Continue reading

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hill house

It was a day like any other. My life had fallen into a predictable routine of lecturing, punctuated by a two-hour midday break where I got the chance to be near Ev. Evelyn Hill was, like me, a lecturer in … Continue reading

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inward music

Autumn leaves were falling but it had rained all month. October was becoming a beautiful but pointless blur. I broke Mother’s heart dissolving my ties with Effie, disillusioned Father by deserting the Agency, and now Gray was at odds with … Continue reading

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can you feel my love?

I know you haven’t made your mind up yet But I would never do you wrong, I’ve known it from the moment that we met No doubt in my mind where you belong                                                 —Bob Dylan “It’s kinda sad, you … Continue reading

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somewhere in France

We weren’t sure about the house; admittedly, it was gaudy, but still eerily beautiful. Fran and I had inherited the Victorian row house in the Kensington district, not far from Bay Street and the Market. When I say Market, I’m … Continue reading

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a sunday kind of love

I want a Sunday kind of love A love to last past Saturday night And I’d like to know It’s more than love at first sight I want a Sunday kind of love                          —Louis Prima   Some people are … Continue reading

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diner

… I didn’t fall in love of course it’s never up to you but she was walking back and forth and I was passing through                                   ~Leonard Cohen   There’s an old diner on a street corner near a railroad … Continue reading

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