My Craft Stories Tall Tales of Sin

Greyhound Arriving : Chapter 5

A man dressed in black shifted his weight in the far booth with the girls. Feather hung on him like a white dishcloth and her breasts touched his shirt. She patted his arm when he laughed. The man chewed on a twizzle stick and a baseball hat hung low over his forehead. Cindy saw the corner of his eye when he smiled at Feather. “They seem full of energy,” Cindy said. Bill looked behind him.…

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My Craft Stories Tall Tales of Sin

Greyhound Arriving : Chapter 4

Cindy counted the number of bubbles rising up from the bottom of the aquarium behind Bill’s head. A black and white fish floated through the bubbles followed by a yellow and blue. The black and white was missing an eye. Otherwise, each fish looked happy to be swimming in a strip club. “You should add a clown fish.” Bill looked over at her. “Like Finding Nemo.” “You are an odd,” Bill paused. “No, make that…

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My Craft Stories

Wine and Regrets

“Red, red, wine.” The gravel voice of the singer bounced around the empty bar passed Ruben, the bartender, and stinging the ears of Tony, the only person at the bar. Tony tapped the shot glass in rhythm with the music. Ruben dried a tumbler. He watched his customer waver in his chair. Tony stared into the mirror behind Ruben. “Now she’s gone and I can’t forget her.” Ruben set down the tumbler and whipped the…

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My Craft Stories

I’m The Dude, Man

From the TV behind his head he heard, “Look, let me explain something to you. I’m not Mr. Lebowski. You’re Mr. Lebowski. I’m the Dude. So that’s what you call me. That, or His Dudeness … Duder … or El Duderino, if, you know, you’re not into the whole brevity thing.” Brevity. If only. The guy with the gun forced the barrel next to his nose and punched it as if to emphasize, “You get…

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My Craft Poetry

The Gardener Longs for Spring

The gossip fails to interest him, Real housewives provide no whim, The endless chatter from the box, Never topping spring equinox. Transplanting flowers from the seed, Small, pale, helpless leaves proceed No April Showers, so May balks Never topping spring equinox. Finally, water pours over plant, The pail neck leaks but a scant, Of moisture fallen from shamrocks, Never topping spring equinox. Summer now, the garden delights, Hummingbirds dab on nectar flights, Still, he misses…

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My Craft Stories Tall Tales of Sin

Greyhound Arriving : Chapter 3

Bill DuPree watched Fremont Street for fresh beauty to keep the Glitter Gulch filled with long legs and shapely thighs. If they had a nice set of breasts, well, that was cream on the stick. As the manager, he had seen them come and go. A girl was going to need a firm foundation to attract the John’s, Dick’s, and George Washington’s stuck in the G-strings of the eye candy. Too bad the candy tended…

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My Craft Poetry

He Sees the Love in Her Warm Smiling Face

Riding behind in a long red wagon, He sits, he smiles, plays with the air, he watches Her ponytail bobbing in rhythm as she pulls The red wagon up the road in the pines   They stop at a library, he toddles up Children’s books about bunnies and ducks He giggles and claps at the animal Pictures while struggling to understand her; He sees the love in her warm smiling face   She’s older now,…

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My Craft Stories Tall Tales of Sin

Greyhound Arriving : Chapter 2

Cindy stood below the unlit neon of Fremont Street and thought about where to go next. Her list, while punctuated with a final stop, still required a place to start. “I’m looking for an evil man,” Cindy said aloud to no one in particular. She looked up at Sally, kicking up a leg in glowing orange and purple. The tall cowgirl smiled and rocked her outstretched leg. A glint of light flashed on her side…

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My Craft Poetry

Twilight Settled Around the Texas Spoon

I’ve got a tiger by the tail Its plain to see came a Buck Owens wail From the jukebox hidden near the bar In a West Texas dance hall far Away on a farm-to-market road Near a cotton bale load Hammer man tuned the piano, sunlight gave way to moon Barmaid dried the glasses, as twilight settled around the Texas Spoon A Post cowboy and a Hale Center mill man Rushed inside to find a…

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Conversations My Craft

Scouting for the Cook

The lieutenant’s horse swung in close to the Scout. He pulled up and stopped. Dust blew behind him. The Scout chewed on a blade of grass. “Report Scout. What are we chasing?” Scout twisted the grass in his mouth moving it from one side to the other. He paused and pointed. “See that butte?” The lieutenant covered his eyes from the sun. “Yes. Is that the hideout?” “No.” A silence hung between the men. Scout…

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