Ace Roman in a Different Breed of Trouble_Follow Duke_Black Coffee_Lower Your Expectations
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Ace Roman in a Different Breed of Trouble
It was just my luck; the Watertown gang was pushing out their territory again. I usually keep my nose out of politics, after all, I don’t much care who owns what as long as I can sit down and get a drink. But those Watertown boys look down on everyone who doesn’t live in a big house on the hill; especially if they go visiting canaries. I must say I’ve seen a number of sisters in my time and it weren’t a nunnery. So, I was laying low behind the 7-11 nursing a few fresh cuts. There was a tingle in my skin that made my hair stand on end. I wondered if the Watertown boys intended to bump ...
Follow Duke
Macy considered Duke might be leaving her, like everyone else, when the lanky Great Dane tore after a sleek grey cat into the woods. She considered turning around. She could sulk back to her dilapidated cabin, save herself the effort and inevitability. But Duke was all she had left, and that dog needed her. She needed him. Quietly cursing, she zipped her tattered raincoat and trudged off the deserted road into the woods.Soggy dead leaves crunched beneath her worn sneakers; the damp rot soaked into her socks. Macy should have felt nervous about being alone in the woods this close to sundown, bu...
Black Coffee
There’s 3 things you should know about Charlie. At any given moment that he’s speaking to you, he’s probably wishing he wasn’t. He spends his free time assembling puzzles. He hates traffic. Unfortunately for Charlie, he finds himself particularly fed up at the moment due to fact number three. Traffic means wasting his precious time off work sitting in a steel box when he would much rather be making a pot of coffee and taking off his shoes. In a sense, Charlie feels like he is rotting away in an urban prison. At least there’s air conditioning.He’s not sure why there is such an abnormal amount o...
Lower Your Expectations
You find yourself fettered to a table once . . . and the next time isn’t quite as special. Interrogation chambers were becoming way too common in my life, quickly losing their charm. A very gruff looking security guard stood near a metallic door on the other side of the room. A black one-way mirror covered the wall to my right and I was definitely on the wrong side of it. Yellow bulbs buzzed above me like bees, making the already uncomfortable room even less inviting, as if that were possible. “Got an E.T.A. on the investigator, Mr. Angry-Pants?” I asked the guard. He just huffed and mumbl...