The wheel rewarded 50 coins making her even. Excitedly, she spun again because you never leave on a win. And it hit again. And again. It must be luck. After 23 wins, the machine froze and faulted. The slot tech reset it and erased her wins. He shrugged. C’est la vie.
Category: Very Short Stories
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The Road to Kelso
Read more: The Road to KelsoThe bus broke down five miles outside Kelso on the Joshua tree road near where the train tracks hang on the yellow hills. The few tourists unloaded their bags deciding they would rather walk than stand in the heat. Sally smoothed her pettifor and adjusted her wide-brimmed hat. She would wait in the bus. Twenty minutes later a private stuck his head into the bus and offered a ride and Sally joined the bus driver in the army jeep as it sped past the tourists. Later, Sally sat in the Kelso Depot sipping cold lemonade and eating sardines on crackers.
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Heat and Tension on the Grapevine
Read more: Heat and Tension on the GrapevineThe drive-it-yourself moving truck stalled on the Grapevine, the mountain pass stopping the San Joaquin from spilling into Los Angeles. Sweat rolled down the backs of the three passengers resigned to suffer the heat. The truck lacked air conditioning, so there was no need to complain. The truck belched through the stall as the driver pushed into the lowest gear and rolled at a burro’s pace as a parade of cars followed. A single horn, then others, squaked displeasure at the lack of speed. The driver aimed the truck for a turnout, wiped his face, and waved the parade around.
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A Cooper’s Hawk Snags a Meal
Read more: A Cooper’s Hawk Snags a MealAfter sixty steps, he decided he made a bad choice to leave the car to photograph Joshua trees in the Nevada desert. He wanted a swallow of the water sitting in the passenger seat now getting hot in the light. The sun burned the bald spot he forgot to cover with a hat. He thought about going back. Then, a quail hawk lifted off its perch of evergreen bayonets and dove to the ground. It pursued its prey by half running and half flying until it snagged a meal. He snapped a series of pictures before sprinting to the car.
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Left Hanging on Craigmore Rock
Read more: Left Hanging on Craigmore RockHe dug into the rock face deeper with his right hand while he swung his left hand up to meet it. He now hung over the gorge too tired to pull himself up and too centered in self-worth to let go. He swung closer to the edge hoping to find a foothold. He swung back away from an edge too far to offer anything to grab. He felt the tension in his fingers.
[bctt tweet=”He looked down to the bottom. A hell of a drop.”]He looked down to the bottom. A hell of a drop. He began to release when she grabbed both arms and pulled him onto the canyon lip.
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The Double Chocolate Bar
Read more: The Double Chocolate BarHe brought out the candy and tore the top edge exposing the chocolate. She longed for it. He snapped off the end and brought it to his mouth. He felt eyes on him and looked directly at the girl. She sat across from him on the upper deck. She smiled, and turned away.
[bctt tweet=”Miss, can I give your daughter some of my chocolate?”]He moved the chocolate with his tongue and let the richness roll through his mouth. He caught her looking again. She smiled and buried her head in the sweater laying next to the window. He approached her. “Miss, can I give your daughter some of my chocolate?”
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The Sweet Smell of Rotting Flesh
Read more: The Sweet Smell of Rotting FleshHot breath touched her neck and she sidestepped left running hard until the sweet smell of rotting flesh faded. She landed in a hole and pulled leaves over her. She waited. The sweet smell drifted again to her nose. She stopped breathing and listened. Warm drool fell on her head. She drew into the hole and stifled a scream.
Now the sweet smell was gone. She sat listening. No sounds. She waited still before peeking out through the leaves. The black snout bared its fangs inches from her nose. Then the dog stuck out its tongue and licked her face.
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The Face Behind the Frame
Read more: The Face Behind the FrameIn the periphery, he saw children wearing uniforms crowded around an adult giving them instructions for the day. He neglected to smooth his tunic. No need. It never changed. He clinched his knee keeping his slender fingers straight. The letter balanced on the edge of the table. One errant breeze and it would fall. He hoped it didn’t land out of the frame. He stared into the exhibit hall waiting for the children. One curiously looked up. He realized she had missed him to examine a pastoral scene over his head. He glared more intently to catch her eye.
