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My Craft

A Diamond in Her Eye

By Michael Shawn Sommermeyer | by Michael Shawn Sommermeyer

[aesop_image imgwidth=”800″ img=”https://wordsmithholler.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/03/gangster-539993_1920.jpg” credit=”Pixabay” align=”left” lightbox=”on” captionposition=”left” revealfx=”off”] “You’ll never get me to tell you where the jewels are,” the child said. She leaned back and smirked. Too much television, thought the inspector. He sat down across from her rattling the metal chair against the table in the interrogation room. The girl leaned forward. She glared at him. The stare-off went on for a few minutes until he leaned forward. The girl pushed back pinning her arms…

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My Craft

A Moment of Pure Truth

By Michael Shawn Sommermeyer | by Michael Shawn Sommermeyer

Christopher stood over the maze of workday and eyed the sea. A thin fog cloud floated passed his perch on the 45th floor. On the docks, sea lions barked at tourists. East Bay traffic sought a faster path, ships hauled electronics in and almonds back out, and the blood-red sun sunk into late afternoon north of the Golden Gate. In the conference room, five people sat in executive chairs around a table. Their faces reflected…

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My Craft

Can You Hear Me Now, L.A.?

By Michael Shawn Sommermeyer | by Michael Shawn Sommermeyer

A loud sneeze sent a nose full of snot onto the steering wheel and the windshield. James held the phone away from the explosion; otherwise, it too would have been covered. “Are you gonna be alright?” Sally snickered through the phone. “Damn ragweed.” James looked around for a tissue. He also tried not to run his hand through the sticky mess on his steering wheel. “I’m either blowing my nose or snorting up salt water.”…

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