The train to Hudson_My Lucky Day_Neon Babylon_Corey's Pieces
Catalog Guide:
The train to Hudson
It is a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenberg’s, and I don't know what I am doing in New York. Waiting for the train, I suppose. I always wait forwww.onedoor.cc trains like that, in a way most; people wait for death, not knowing when it will come. In the distance, the dazzling unfamiliar skyline and the vivid display of delicacies on hotel memos makes my stomach rumble. I love New York, even though it isn't mine. But every now and then, at the resounding aura of the metropolitan twilight I feel a haunting sense of loneliness stirring inside , finding itself in the faces of the sh...
My Lucky Day
“4 23 24 35 54 Power Ball 13,” I tell the overweight cashier behind the smeared plexiglass. My hands begin to shake as I get out the wallet from my purse and spy some mini bottles of Jack Daniels in the neat little basket sitting next to the credit card machine. My mouth begins to water. “And two of these,” I say as I push the bottles towards the cashier before my subconscious can talk me out of it. The cashier glances up at me, raising an eyebrow.“I.D.” he says.I reach into my wallet, pull out my driver’s license, and slide it over the counter towards the cashier. Even though I’m 28, I stil...
Neon Babylon
That’s the thing about this city…it ensnares you like a fishhook through flesh. This town is a sly seaman; he baits his rod with strong drinks and glitter, with aces high and uncovered nipples, with unfathomable ceilings and cigar smoke, with the grinning ghosts of Frank and Sammy. We—the daffy little fishes that we are—take one look at that spangled lure, our pupils dilate like pancake batter on the griddle. Dangling there in the sunlight is our chance to kiss inhibitions goodbye, to lap up fame and fortune, to wrap our lips around a fat stack of poker chips. We bite down, grinning into the s...
Corey's Pieces
"Ouch, darn, I'd better clean this mess up. Someone must havetried to break in here." Grundging out the words to himself, as he entered the old abandoned house on THAT day.....it was his porce date. Two years passed now. She wanted him to sell the place, so she could pay for her lifestyle, which was modest but comfortable. Corey managed to work as a mechanic, long arduous hours, but it paid well enough. Myrna worked at the department store, managing the kids clothing section, a job she loathed but....whatever, she was good enough, she loved kids."Nope, I am not selling, I may move in there s...