The World's New Wardrobe_Egging the Black Chevy Camaro_The Medic_A Time for Heroes
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The World's New Wardrobe
Ralph threw the last carton on the shelf–glad to finish the final incoming load in the stifling home furnishings warehouse. He couldn’t wait to shower, change into “street clothes” that would let him feel human again and head for his favorite watering hole down Main Street. He believed that, after a few “cool ones” even the flea-bitten, fly-by-night boring rural outpost of a town where he had wasted much of his life might start to look good.After he finished getting dressed, however, the moving foreman couldn’t believe what stared back at him in the locker room’s full-length mirror. Althoug...
Egging the Black Chevy Camaro
CW: Mild Swearing"This is a bad idea." Tommy shuttered."Oh don't be such a baby." Clemons retorted.They stared down the street, searching for Richard Smith's black Chevy Camaro. Tommy's slim hands shook the egg cartons as Clemons search intensified."I swear to God that Richard lives down Simmonds Lane." Clemons said sternly, like he was scolding the street for not being where Richard supposedly lived.Clemons was the most attractive of the two, he had golden-brown hair that was cut quiff, and dark eyes that were shifty and cunning. Clemons always came up with the ideas and plans and trouble he ...
The Medic
She dreamt of this day since she wore pigtails and jelly shoes on her way to elementary school. The rolling fields of soybean, wheat, and corn passed by outside the yellow bus, as she tucked into the brown seat, leafing through a tattered book titled Twww.onedoor.cche Ocean. Turning the pages slowly, her eyes glued to the photos and words inside, she arrived at her favorite page with quiet excitement. Her delicate finger traced the shape of a large fin emerging from the water. She lifted her head from the image and stared out the window, past her reflection, and wondered if she’d ever see that in the wi...
A Time for Heroes
“Folks always called my daddy a liar.”The voice came low and sad-like from the 12-year-old who sat cross-legged on the concrete steps of the Williamsburg Regional Library on Scotland Street.Joshua Fry glanced up from the history book he was reading. His friend, Thomas Paine, could see the hurt in the young boy’s eyes.“He isn’t?”“Nope, he isn’t, but that don’t stop some people from saying he was wrong about our family history. My ancestor was a hero before George Washington.”“Washington, the Father of Our Country, helped build a nation—our nation.”“Not entirely,” Joshua said. “Not a lot of peo...