Bloody Marys (from a work-in-progress)

William and Lisa are having afternoon Bloody Marys, at a beachfront bar in Virginia Beach.

“I’d say that’s about right.” William drank his Bloody Mary. “You’re wrong, you know.”

“About what?”

“The chaser.” He pushed the Sprite to her. “You can have it.”

“I don’t drink carbonated beverages.”

“How come?”

“Unhealthy.”

“But you drink alcohol.”

“Yes.”

“You know, other people might find that a bit weird.”

“Other people can go fuck themselves in traffic.”

“Wow. Didn’t know you had such hatred towards other people.”

“Other people move through time like slugs, unaware of what’s passed until it is well gone. Have you ever been to a nursing home, William?”

He shook his head.

“I worked in one, some time ago, and you could see it on their faces. Eighty years on this world, a regret for every second. Most people’s deaths are a sham. There’s nothing left to die.”

“Bukowski. Impressive.”

“I asked a few what they regretted most about their lives. It seemed a reasonable question, and they were happy to oblige. I think I was the only worker who spoke to them like they were people, rather than dogs.”

“What’d they say?”

“I’ll tell you what they did not say. Not one of them regretted not buying a Lexus, not one of them regretted not getting a promotion at work or not putting in longer hours for more money and recognition. Time treats all of us poorly, but that does not mean we have to treat ourselves poorly too. Do you understand?”

William did. He’d never heard it put like that before. He finished his Bloody Mary, quickly. The way she mixed it was worth way more than a dollar.

“Hey,” he said. “Ready for the beach?”

New short story in The Colored Lens: ‘A Long Fall’

It’s here! Read my new short story, ‘A Long Fall’, in the Autumn 2015 issue of The Colored Lens.

When Patricia’s husband dies in a freak accident, she uses her living savings to have him brought back via cloning. But she soon learns that the clone is not an adequate replacement for the love she lost.

Check it out here! For only $2.99, you get to read not only my short, but many other talented authors as well!

New short story: ‘A Little Sting’

If you’d had enough of listicles and outrage porn, then check out my new short story ‘A Little Sting’ in the debut issue of The Unpublishables. Free to read, what kind of writing is it? Straight from the editor’s mouth:

I could give a fuck what a character looks like unless there’s some relevancy to it. Nothing I hate more than reading along and the momentum is stopes just to take out time to tell me what color their hair and eyes are. Fuck that! Just tell the Goddamn story. Who the fuck really cares what color someone’s eyes and hair are?

Read it here!

A small sample from my new book

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From my new book, The Pale Ancient & the House of Mirrors:

I run down a short hall. There are chalk drawings on the walls, lines, shapes of some kind, and when I step into a massive room of mirrors I see that they’re not shapes but a maze.

Mirrors face each other on top of the walls, on the ceiling, new mirrors that shine and ancient mirrors that are centuries-worn and eggshell-cracked, a legion that reflects nothing but takes everything.

For more on The Pale Ancient & the House of Mirrors, including its real-life inspiration, check out my interview at Ray Hecht’s blog.

A sample from a WIP (Four years married to someone who brings out your worst)

Lisa and William went to the kitchen and she opened the cabinets.

“Is it tea, coffee or hot chocolate?”

He shrugged.

She copied him. “That is a spasm, not a response.”

“It doesn’t matter to me.”

“What would you like to drink, William?”

“Hot chocolate,” he said, and it felt good to choose. Four years married to someone who brought out your worst could hide but ultimately not erase your best.